#i wanna make it angstier

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Break 1)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.2k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys] {filler chapter? I just felt like Lance and Nando getting closer would make more sense if they spent break together + Mark}

last part - masterlist - next part

They had two weeks off and Lance had absolutely no plans, Nico was on vacation with his family to god knows where, Fernando had probably already arrived in Australia, and Lance didn't have any other friends on the paddock to worry about.

He had thought about going back to Canada but he just ended up back at his house in Switzerland. Spring had started by the time he got home so it wasn't like he could distract himself with snowboarding so he just ended up at home on his couch for the past five days.

Being alone was nice, but a part of him missed Fernando, oddly enough. They'd only ever hung out on the paddock but Lance had grown to look forward to the time they spent together, whether it was actually sitting and talking or just exchanging glances while in the middle of interviews.

As if it was fate, his phone began to rang. It was an unknown number but he figured it might be important, his dad had a history of calling him from random places just to check up on him, as if the 18 year old hadn't been left alone before.

"Hello?" He said, holding his (very small) phone to his ear

"Lancito, I am so glad you answered!" a voice on the other end spoke, a very familiar voice

"Nando?" Lance questioned "How did you get my number?"

"Is not important!" The Spaniard said, brushing off the question "Lancito, are you busy? If you are, cancel, come to Australia."

"No, I'm not busy." Lance responded, wondering if Fernando was really inviting him to Australia, wasn't he with Mark? Wouldn't that be awkward? "Is something important happening in Australia?"

"Si, You are coming, is important."

"Nando, I-" The younger boy laughed, not being able to wipe the smile off his face just from hearing the other mans voice "Sure, I'll come."

"Perfect, I'll send you the information, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay Nando"

"Bye, Lancito! Have a safe flight"

And with that the call ended and Lance wasted no time in buying the tickets to Australia (idk how people bought plane tickets in 2006...)

Lance got off the plane, trying to pat down the hair he could feel sticking up, he always slept on long flights and this one was no acception. It was weird being in Australia a week before he had to but he wasn't going to turn down Fernando is he wanted Lance there so bad, for whatever reason.

It was a Sunday morning and the airport was surprisingly busy, he eventually found his way out and got a taxi headed towards the address Fernando had texted him

"Just landed, headed your way now!!"

Lance stared at the screen before sending the message, just now wondering why exactly he was there, he wasn't blind to the media, especially when he was constantly being interviewed and asked questions fans were dying to know, he had heard the rumours, people saying Fernando was only talking to him to scare him, he was going to embarrass him, he had some ulterior motive, Lance hoped it wasn't true but now that he was blindly following Fernandos orders in another country while he was visiting his friend (who's seat he took) a part of him started to wonder if Fernando was planning something. He hit send.

They'd hadn't texted much, just Fernando sending him the information he needed and Lance thanking him before he got on the plane and turned off his phone, he wasn't too fond of it anyways.

"I am glad you made it"

"Is exciting"

"Tell the driver to go faster"

Lance smiled at his phone, excited to see the Spaniard again, even though he saw him not even a week ago.

"I shouldn't break the law yet"

"I just got here and my dad isn't here to bail me out!"

"I will do it, no worries Lancito"

He shook his head at the text, turning off his phone and waiting to arrive, not too far away from the location

He stepped out of the car, paying the taxi fare then walking up to the house, hesitating to knock. Maybe texting would be better? Or calling? Or anything besides knocking? Before he even had the chance to decide the door opened, revealing a slightly-taller-than-him Mark Webber and Fernando standing by his side, the two closer than he thought they would be

"Lance, welcome, so sorry about making you come so randomly." Mark spoke first, stepping back to invite Lance in

"It's no problem, I wasn't doing anything anyway" Lance smiled as he walked into the house, scanning what he could see

"I told you Lancito didn't mind" Fernando said to Mark, hitting his arm slightly "Is good to make sure you two get along before people start to speculate, ay?" Fernando smiled at Mark then at Lance, reaching up to flatten the hair still sticking up on his head

Lance wasn't sure why he was surprised Fernando was still calling him his nickname, he didn't know why he expected anything to change with Mark around, Fernando seemed the same, if anything he seemed happier around Mark. It made him feel bad, he was the reason Mark lost his seat, the reason Fernando's friend was no longer on the paddock, the reason Fernando had to settle for him instead.

"Well, Lance, I don't mind that you took my seat" Mark laughed, closing the door before putting an arm around Lance's shoulder "I was done with travelling all the time anyway, so don't beat yourself up over what people say"

Lance nodded, Mark was right, and he was pretty old so it made sense for him to be smarter.

"Now, how about we have fun now that we've dragged you to the land down under?" That made Lance smile, he was looking forward to spending the rest of his break actually doing stuff besides binging TV shows.

The next week went by so quick Lance was surprised when he actually had to go to the paddock, almost as surprised as fans when he showed up with both Fernando and Mark.

He hesitated when Fernando suggested all of them going together, worried about what people would say, but the older men made it obvious they couldn't care less so thats how they ended up going together, Mark having plans of doing interviews around the paddock and spending his free time in sither the pink or blue and yellow garage.

Being in Australia a week early was great, they were busy the whole time but Lance enioyed it, loving the time away from his phone and especially away from the media. It made him notice how close Mark and Fernando really were, he felt jealous at times but it was probably just because he was used to having Fernandos attention on him after quali and races, he felt selfish for feeling that way so of course he never addressed it.

"Where are you going first?" Lance asked, looking at Mark, both of them on either side of Fernando

"I was thinking of interviewing people first, it's gonna be weird being the one asking the questions"

"As long as you stay far away from me, we're good"

Fernando shook his head, pulling the taller man closer "We really need to get you used to the media, eh? All you do is complain" He sucked his teeth after he finished teasing Lance, earning nothing but an eyeroll from the teen

"Yeah, yeah." Lance smiled, not able to stop himself when it came to Fernando "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

And with that the race week started.

[whohasthecards]

Top Gun AU Idea -- Jake is Mav's son and grew up in foster care.

Jake only has a beat up picture of his dad and that his name was "Pete". He didn't know his mother at all, not even his birth certificate. He was abandoned and whoever abandoned him made sure that his lineage would never be traced.

He figured out who his father was during his first time in Top Gun.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

He also found out that his father was married to the COMPACFLT.

He didn't need a father anymore, right? And he wouldn't want to break up a family in his desperate attempt to maybe gain one. His father probably didn't know he existed. Hell, his father could even be the one that abandoned him (although why he would leave the picture makes that theory unlikely).

However, he did want to meet the one of the Navy's top pilots. It's all professional curiousity.

(He was in the same profession as his father, aviation is in his blood.)

He will become the best.

Maybe he'd meet Maverick once he's on top.

During his first air combat kill, Iceman was the one to shake his hand. The admiral gave him a clap on his shoulder and congratulated him.

The mission occured.

As a person, Maverick was not who he expected him to be.

As a pilot, Maverick was the best.

He was numb when Maverick and Rooster were shot down.

He never felt more alive and scared when he pushed his jet to save them.

He turned and walked away when he saw Rooster and Maverick hug it out, confirming his suspicions during training.

Rooster was Maverick's son, in every way that matters.

Blood doesn't matter, heck there isn't even a blood test that proves that Jake was his son. Only a battered photo with scripted handwriting.

Jake should let go.

After the mission, Dagger squad becomes a permanent squadron with Maverick as team leader.

Maverick got along with every single Dagger just fine, but there was an awkwardness between Hangman and himself that neither knew how to bridge. Mav never did know how to act around people who was just like himself.

Maverick acts paternal and caring to everybody, especially Bradley, and Jake had to swallow the growing jealousy (I don't need him, I don't need him, I don't need--). Why did everyone get a family and a Mav that would look their way for more than 10 seconds?

Why did Rooster get everything he ever wanted?

What did he do or not do that made him deserve this crippling feeling of jealousy and loneliness?

[caelanglang]

BEEP BOOP FIC REC

HELLO I RISE BACK FROM THE DEAD TO PUSH THIS TO YOUR PLATE

I've reblogged the author's original post a while back when the first couple of chapters were written but now I finally had the time to open ao3 again and finally caught up with the chapters... BOY OH BOY ITS AMAZING PLEASE READ IT! This fic may have come from the same idea as my little prince skk childhood au BUT it's a gem on its own and has its own beautifully crafted world and written characters PLEASE PLEASE READ IT ITS SO SO GOOD!

Everyone say thank you to @uneducated-author for this beautiful work! <3 ToT I love it so so much

[cathalbravecog]

Man... I can't stop thinking about the things that were talked about on the stream, especially the answer on my question - so... get ready for a ramble! its a long one. oops. i dont even know where im going with this, im just dumping my thoughts somewhere. half is about ttcc lore in general and the streams, the other half is about cathal and me projecting onto him deeper.

before i even hop deeper into this, it wasn't until early today that i learned that there was a whole drama about cranky's answers (regarding the graham and flint question and the whole "keep it sane" thing. i thought it was...off, but i understood it as 'do what you want people, just don't start any harassment because of ships and your favorite pairs'.

definitely could have been phrased better, though. at least we got a good response and an apology later from maven on twitter. but i legit did not know this was a drama until those twitter posts were made LOL. i dont interact with the fandom so i do not know how that answer was percieved by most. or if anyone except for me and my friends have had any thoughts about the question i asked that got answered.)

and what im tryna get to is that i get cranky isnt the one to be answering lore things, and probably didnt know what to answer... but it's still something to think about

because being told "cogs and toons just dont become how they are out of the blue" (paraphrasing here) as an answer to what cathal initially thought of seeing his dad be bet up and thrown off a tower is... confusing? he did say first and foremost that it has to be built upon before saying that. i understand that this is... a lot of characters! and cathal did have some focus on him thanks to the comic and they wanted to focus on other managers... but some have deeper, more intricate lore that's easy to grasp (especially the more, well, angstier managers like chip and misty.)

and we have gotten some extra lore for other managers like belle, mary, tawny.... thanks to thomas' rambles.

and it's definitely difficult for a team of volounteers working hard on a fan game together to make lore for all the characters, that are still very young in their *life span*, having been around for less than a year. despite ttcc being more character driven and focused on the cogs, it's still a game they have to run so they cannot focus on lore only and some game management has to be done first. there's a bunch of things they have to consider, like consistency and how fans may react, or possible themes or what they want the story to be...

and. yeah. its hard since. come on lets admit it. clash has an issue with how these are all given to us. hell, there's lore bits i still dont know about and im still learning because it's..so all over the place. a new player will not know about it. maven acknowledged this in the tweet and i really appreciate that, as it's honestly been my number one issue with clash, especially as someone who is there for the lore. (i mean, and the gameplay, i know some people who don't play the game itself much. well i sure do a little TOO MUCH because i have PROBLEMS. but im interested in the lore, too, yknow?)

some lore you cant learn from the wiki, and unless you interact with the community, you may never learn *where* all of this even is. if you werent live for certain lore there, it's hardly accessible to you. lore locked behind one time events, an arg website, wikis, discord chats... all that. it's hard to keep track of! i'm sure it's like that for both the fans and the writers. these characters are great, fun, and i love them, but the way we are given this information is... not the best. it's very easy to miss certain details.

it's especially bad if you're like me - only ever interacting with a close group of people you trust, (because people are scary especially a lot of... lore driven fans. yeahnoimeanshippers.sorry.and just big crowds of people in general) having only gotten back into the game recently AFTER most of the major lore events (first played once in 2019, then never again until january 2023) and also you dislike youtube and video content, so you dont watch it. something in your brain would rather if you step on a nail than watch a playthrough video (especially with commentary).

like in general it shouldnt be necessary to go through all these hoops just to know the lore! especially for things that may have little lore...

anyways, uh, back to cathal. i cannot stop thinking about this.

it definitely wasnt an answer to what i specifically asked - but possibly more so about... why cathal is the way he is? and despite what my brain and low self esteem during hard times may tell me - i do not believe that anybody is truly "lazy". i just dont think that exists. there's always some reason behind a person being unmotivated or lazy. even the little things!

but like... that's just kinda obvious. all toons and cogs have motivations. thats like... one of the basics of writing characters. have motivations for characters and reasons for why they are how they are. doesnt have to be anything tragic, just.... how they are as people.

it's totally unrelated to the question of what cathal thought about seeing his dad like that... but oh well! i asked that because i made up my own story around that already, and i just wanted to see what someone working on the game thinks about the same idea.

not to be Tumblr User CathalBravecog, but, of course I have projected heavily onto cathal. i have already stated how important cathal is to me as a character, especially with appreciating myself when im.. not exactly the most motivated. when im not doing much. taught me to appreciate breaks. hell! i keep preaching this myself. its okay to take breaks! and yet i often end up not doing it and i overwork myself on games and art and other things.

there's... a lot of things "wrong" with me that i don't have names for yet, especially due to not having a diagnosis for them, but they're very real feelings and they cause me to be unable to do things a lot of the time. various mental blocks and a new member of the gang... physical pai! hooray.

this... endless productivity we are forced and expected to do. it can take a toll on you. breaks are just as necessary and to say it's a thing that has to be re-learned is... sickening. hooray for living in a Corporate (clash) society, fellas.

one thing i can say is that i absolutely headcanon that cathal has adhd - though, maybe not the same type i do. i do not think he gets randomly hyper and wants to (and does) jump around everywhere and blurt things out randomly and impulsively. cathal here has the low energy, yknow.

i like that a lot of the content around him doesnt even describe him with the words "lazy" and "sleepy" instead.

every day is the same... even if his job is relatively simple, just watching over the camera feed - it's definitely boring... and having to do it every day is not rewarding. and being mostly alone and without consequence, he gives into wanting to do something else. he's got these huge screens and a room to himself, and he loves watching shows and cartoons... so he's gonna do that. it's more fun. it's stimulating. and especially with his dad being the one to give him his position, he knows that he's got nothing to really worry about there.

i also think it's a bit hard to be motivated knowing that... this war between the cogs and toons is just. endless. hell, again, he has to see his dad *everyday* be attacked by them. his body damaged after the fall - only to be fixed again. rinse and repeat. i would too, find it pointless. especially if you're like cathal, since i pointed out before that he is very kind and caring towards the other cogs. he's also thoughtful, noting that yknow... a lot of stairs to get to his room.

why do all that when you can chill... and feel good. do something that feels nice...

i don't have any names for this, but with how sleepy he usually is, that's definitely a thing to consider too. and just, from experience... being tired and/or sleepy it... dismotivates you even more. its so hard to start tasks even if you *want* to do them. and considering cathal mooost likely doesn't want to do his work on his own - then these tasks can be just. impossible to start.

like, i have struggled with this my entire life myself, just because of my adhd screwing with everything, but after getting covid and most definitely getting a form of chronic exhaustion from it.. things have been even harder. i pull myself through day and i barely have the energy to even start anything. sometimes i dont even do anything all day and... woops! still no mood or energy to do anything. i just work on random bursts of motivation and things that captivate me...

not sure how it relates to cathal, but, hey, if im personal here ill ramble about it too because WOW it has been biting me in the ass and i need to speak to Professionals About It

like... i dont think hes being "lazy" willingly, yknow? theres a reason behind it. it definitely is just... being sleepy, the comfort... the fun and stimulation doing something fun he's interested in (his shows) are just... stronger desires and way easier for him to get to. why struggle through something when it takes up all your energy, and then you feel no reward for it? yeah. exactly. even just "not feeling like it" is a reson. "not having energy" is a reason. hey, are these things to get better about if needed? certainly. i wish i could get help with this, it would help me in my life so so much. but should it be seen as ENTIRELY negative and as being a "hinder to society". hell nah. and i think thats swag. cathal is swag he can do this, good for him lmaooo. my brain is deteriorating i apologize.

there was... another thing i wanted to say, but i forgot. so i'll move on.

but just... yeah. i dont think cathal is just lazy. i dont believe in "laziness". he's got reasons for why he prefers naps and just... watching tv instead of doing his work. perhaps he does want to do these things, but gave up on trying. its not worth the effort, it does not feel good. its not stimulating enough to keep him going.

[hyperfixated-homo]

logicality au where logan is a popular serial killer and patton is a widely feared assassin. neither of them know that the other is a killer, because they do so many of the same weird things

chemicals in logan's basement? he's a scientist, that's normal. daggers in patton's cabinets? i mean, there are killers on the loose, of course you'd want to keep some protection around the house.

oh and the rest of the sides are completely normal people that dont suspect them at all.

i just think it'd be funny

[yesimwriting]

oh my god yes i'm very much interested in a drabble about my favourite besties kissing as besties do!!!!!!!!

the one that i really can't stop thinking about is the "i trust you more than anyone else" stuff like it's me and you against the world i'm such a sucker for that!! especially since felix is surrounded by people who wanna be close to him all the time and as easy going and open as he seems with anyone, it's of course on an entirely different level with reader

ugh the intimacy of it all makes me melt i love them😭😭

you get the vision!!

also had to start off a little angstier than usual bc the bestie kiss ™️ is only justifiable if both of them are upset enough to be more focused on being close than anything else, y'know

----

The taste lingers. The bitterness infects all it touches, poisoning you from the inside out as you down the drink that some guy pushed into your hand a few minutes ago.

A familiar warning briefly flashes to the front of your mind. Don't take drinks from strangers...especially not drinks that you didn't see them make. One of a hundred safety rules that you usually adhere to.

You've never really under the self destructive urge after drinking thing. Maybe it's just being tired. Maybe it's just this.

You wipe at your eyes with your palm, only remembering the products you had so carefully applied to your skin a few hours ago after the fact.

"Are you--" A familiar voice cuts through the music. You blink once, but it's not enough to force your eyes to adjust, so you try again. After screwing your eyes shut for a second, you can finally make out the person in front of you. Annabel. "You don't look like you're doing too good."

Your irritation has nothing to do with her, and yet seeing her standing there, effortlessly flawless with a slight edge that just fits here, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. But that's not her fault, so as stabiliy and politely as possible, you answer, "I'm...fine."

She regards you for a moment, eyebrows pinching together in uncertainty. "Why don't we find Felix, yeah?"

Why does everyone always assume that Felix is the solution to all of your problems? "I'm okay," you try again, voice a little more certain, "really."

Annabel still doesn't seem too convinced. She turns her head, scanning the crowded room. It doesn't take long for her to find Felix. It never does.

He's sitting on a loveseat that's been pushed towards the edge of the room. A few people are standing around him, a girl is sitting on the chair's arm, her legs swung over his lap.

"And he seems..." You force your face to remain neutral as your eyes finally land on him. "Busy."

Annabel looks back at you, her lips pressing together. Her expression only adds to your unease. "He wouldn't mind. It's you."

You shake your head, the motion adding to your slight nausea. Usually, you wouldn't think twice about sticking by Felix's side. Especially in this kind of setting, but after the words the two of you exchanged earlier, everything feels off its axis.

You're not used to fighting with Felix. It's such a foreign concept that the strange tension that had you walking away from him earlier probably doesn't even constitute an actual argument. But it's enough to make you feel out of place.

Swallowing once, you force yourself to focus on Annabel. "I think I just need some air." Annabel's still regarding you with uncertainty. "I'll be back in a minute, and if I feel sick or anything, I'll go get Felix." She doesn't move until someone calls her name. "Go. Have fun. I'll see you."

Annabel nods once, giving you a polite smile before leaving.

The door is near where Felix is sitting, which means there's no leaving without walking past him. There's enough of a crowd around him that him not noticing is a likely option, so you feel safe crossing the room.

You push your way through the room, eyes trained on the ground to help your balance. It's also a good excuse to not look at Felix as you reach the door.

There are stragglers--a group of girls chatting and giggling in front of the door, some guys doing shots, a girl in the middle of a phone call that looks painful.

You walk around the side of the house until you find an empty section of the sidewalk. The party feels far away here, even though the only thing dividing you is a few cars, a mailbox, and a streetlight. You sit and let yourself pretend that the bit of distance you've managed to create means something.

You could actually leave. Sure, this is a slightly off campus house party, but it's only a few blocks away from the street that'll take you to your dorm. You did walk here, but that was when you were focused, sober, and you had Felix with you.

But that's--you brought cash. You think. Maybe you should call a cab. It's not the worst idea. You drop your attention to the ground, instinctually searching for your purse.

Ugh. Your purse. Felix. You gave it to Felix.

Okay, you're still an independent person. This is probably for the best. It's never a good idea to leave a party without at least telling the person you came with, and this way it won't be a big deal. You'll ask for your purse so that you can call a cab. He probably won't even care.

You just need a minute to get it together. Then you'll be able to go back in, tap Felix on his shoulder, and get your purse. He won't even have to get that girl off his lap.

It is such a double standard. Felix completely forgetting about you is perfectly fine, but you talk to one person that isn't more Felix's friend than yours at one of these things and that must mean you're trying to replace him as a best friend.

Maybe you've been deluding yourself, convincing yourself that your friendship means more than it actually does. The thought makes it hard to breathe right.

"It's cold out."

Your palms press into asphalt as you snap your head to find the source of the sound. Felix. A lump wedges itself in your throat. "I'm fine." He takes a step forward. "I just wanted some air."

You turn your head, forcing yourself to stare ahead. Soft footsteps, the crunching of asphalt echoes, somehow sharper than the music coming from the house. Felix sits.

He's farther than he usually is.

You lift your hands, taking your time brushing your fingers against your palms to get rid of the debris that indented itself into your skin. "You um--you have my purse, right?" You fold your hands against your lap. "I need my phone. I--I need to call a taxi."

"What?" His voice doesn't come out angry, but there's a flatness there that burrows deep into the pit of your stomach. It almost feels disappointed. "Why?"

You squeeze your hands together, "I want to go home." You still can't look at him. "I want to go back to my room." Your voice starts to crack on the last word. Nails instinctually dig into your knee.

Felix sighs, angling himself towards you, "You don't have to do that." His voice is soft, cautious. "If you want to leave, I'll take you."

"No," you shake your head once, attention still focused forward to keep him from noticing the fact that your eyes are now watering. All of this feels so dumb, so small. Why are you almost crying? "It's okay, you're having fun, I can get back by myself."

He lets out another breath, moving his arm so that his hand sits between both of you. "You're drunk."

"So are you."

A beat of silence that feels like an attempt at admitting that he's more than just drunk. You saw Tyler--or Trevor, or maybe Timothy--wandering the halls. Some guy whose name you can never remember because he only shows up at the end of nights, when you're too out of it to do much more than just be happy. He's known for carrying--and sharing--harder stuff.

Not that you'd know. There's nowhere that Felix won't take you, nothing that he keeps from you. That's part of the beauty of your friendship, the lack of judgement. But Felix isn't fond of you participating in everything all the time.

If you ever show interest in anything on a night that Felix isn't feeling too sure about, he'll offer to get you whatever you want later, when it's just the two of you. Maybe you'd mind his concern if you cared about getting high more.

You can feel Felix's stare, the weight of his full attention. "You don't actually think I'm going to let you go anywhere alone, after drinking, in the middle of the night."

There's a patience there that makes it hard to sit still. You turn your head, finally looking at him, "I'm fine. I can--" You cut yourself off with a slight sniffle.

You wipe at your face with the side of your palm. Felix's eyebrows are pinched together. You don't know what to make of the way he's watching you. Felix lifts his hand, fingers finding their way against your jaw before you can move. "You're upset."

Pressing your lips together, you try to force yourself to look as neutral as possible. "I'm fine." He doesn't move. "You should go back to your party, Felix."

"The party?" His expression briefly contorts in confusion. "I don't care about the party." Your vision is starting to blur. "There are other parties. You're crying." Felix shifts his hand up your face, his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek.

You try to take a stabilizing breath, "It's not a big deal." You will yourself to move, to rely on him less. "I don't think I'm going to be any fun tonight, you should go, and I--I'll talk you tomorrow."

He frowns. "You don't have to be any fun." Felix shouldn't have to coddle you. Embarrassment and guilt further knot your stomach. "If you want to sit here, we can sit here. If you want to go inside, we can go inside. If you want to go home, we'll go home."

"Earlier," you manage, focusing on keeping your voice as even as possible, "When we--" Tears pool in your eyes, something at the back of your throat constricts. "I didn't--I don't know--"

You're not making sense, forcing out fragments of thoughts that don't work together. Felix seems to understand anyway, his thumb grazing against your cheek. "We don't have to talk about that now." You nod slowly. "If you still want to go home, let me take you."

You attempt a full breath, "But what ab--"

He tilts his head in a way that makes it feel like he's telling you a secret, "If you ask about the party again, I'm calling you delusional."

You roll your eyes. It's a relatively lame threat, but it serves its purpose. The corner of your mouth tugs itself upwards, your lips pressed together to hold in a partial laugh. "Okay."

Felix's hand slips from the side of your face and finds a new place against your shoulder. "Yeah? Let's go then."

He stands first and then extends an arm to help you. His stability makes it easier.

There is no laughter or pausing on sidewalks to try to hold onto each other. The two of you are quiet, but Felix does keep your fingers intertwined the entire way back to his dorm.

You don't think to question where he's taking you until you're in his room. "Felix." The walk had been good for you, the fresh air and time to gather your thoughts providing enough of a reprieve for you to get it together. "I want to go to sleep."

"Yeah," he mumbles, "I know, I'll get you your favorite shirt."

Your eyes focus on the ground. "I think I should sleep in my room tonight."

Felix sighs, turning away from the door. "You're trying to leave again."

The accusation only half makes sense, but there's a quietness to his voice that gets to you. All the nervous, alcohol fueled energy is coming back with a vengeance. "When have I ever left you?"

Felix scoffs, the sound bitter. "You left me tonight." If his voice was any less raspy, any less urging, you likely would have laughed. He's the one that got mad at you. "You just--you walked away from me. Like I didn't even matter to you."

The a thinly veiled sadness there that almost feels nervous. He can't meet your gaze. The pride encouraging you to stand still bleeds from you. Without its heat, its fire, there's not much keeping you stable.

You move forward, footsteps cautious. "Felix." You stretch a hand forward, fingers brushing against his forearm. He doesn't move. "Of course you matter to me. So much." Your fingers bend around his wrist. "You're my best friend."

He turns his arm. Your body tenses, preparing for his rejection. Felix's hand squeezes yours. There's a tension in his hold, but you embrace it all the same. "You walked away from me."

You take another step towards him, freehand finding his arm. "That's why." He sets a hand against you waist. The contact is firm, unforgiving. There's still hurt, but the only thing more unthinkable than holding on is letting go. "What you say means so much to me, because you're my best friend." His fingers press into your side. "And you were upset--and there were so many people--" Tears prick the corner of your eyes. "And I couldn't do that there."

"No." He squeezes your hand. "No, don't--don't cry, we're okay." As if to prove his point, Felix pulls you closer. The movement's too sudden for you to keep your balance on your own. You tighten your hold on Felix's arm. "Still my best girl, yeah?"

This is nowhere near the closest you've ever been to him. He has a hand on your hip, but that's far from the touchiest he's ever been. It shouldn't--he shouldn't be this distracting. It takes you a second too long to remember to nod.

He angles his head downwards, his cheek finding a place against your shoulder. Felix's breath is warm against your neck. "Wouldn't leave me."

You nod, moving your hand to rest against his back. Felix relaxes against you. It's not easy to stay stable with the alcohol still in your system and Felix's weight on you, but you manage.

"No." You mean it so much it almost hurts to get out. You'd never walk away from him. There's nothing like your bond with Felix. You could talk to him, be around him forever without feeling drained. "Of course not."

Felix turns his head, brushing his lips against your neck. "Stay over, then?" The question is soft, fragile. It'd be smart to create distance. If tonight's proven anything, it's that you're too attached to him. "Please?"

You smooth your knuckles against his spine. "Okay." He presses a kiss against your shoulder. "Yeah. I'll stay."

He hugs you even tighter. "No more tears, alright?"

You squeeze him back. "Alright."

For awhile, the two of you stay like that. There's nothing left to say, and that still manages to be comfortable. Silence is never uncomfortable with Felix.

He eventually shifts to place a kiss against the side of your neck. "We should get ready for bed."

You hum once in agreement. Neither of you move. Things are simple when you factor out the rest of the world. Things are easy when it's just you and Felix.

An overwhelming wave of fondness brings you back. As gently as possible, you start the process of untangling limbs. Felix pouts at you, expression drowsier than before.

Your fingers carefully brush his hair out of his face. "I need to change."

Felix fully straightens. His hand finds the back of your head. He pulls you towards him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Okay."

He lets go of you before walking towards his dresser. Felix opens the top drawer and finds your usual sleep shirt. You take it before entering his bathroom.

Going out outfits are cute, but there's something about the moment you get home that immediately forces every ounce of discomfort to hit all at once. You shed the restrictive layers before pulling Felix's T-shirt over your head.

You swear there's some kind of rich guy secret to keeping clothes this soft. A combination of fabric, fancy detergent, and some third thing that's reserved for those in the know.

You turn on the sink, ready to wash what's left of the night off of your face. Felix has never gotten rid of or moved anything you've left in here. What's left of your buzz has you more emotional than usual, making the evidence of your life in his space heavier than it should be.

The feeling is good and bad all at once. Your attachment to Felix is the kind of thing that can only come from fully understanding someone. But there's an inherent danger in knowing someone like that, carrying about them like that. Especially Felix, who has everyone so he doesn't need anyone.

You splash some more water onto your face, attempting to shake off any lingering angst. You don't want to dissect your friendship until it eventually falls apart into nothingness.

When you finally step back into his room, Felix is sitting on his bed, back pressed against the wall. He's managed to change into pajama pants, but seems to be struggling with everything else. His shirt's half unbuttoned, and his fingers are actively working at undoing the rest of them. Felix's movements are slow and clumsy as he tugs on the fabric.

Wow. Maybe you were right to think he was high. "Hey." He looks up at you, hands still attempting to pull apart his shirt. There's something endearing about the clumsiness. He drops his head back down to refocus."Do you--uh--do you need help?"

He angles his head to one side, a smile playing at his lips. "Are you asking to undress me?"

Heat burns through your chest, leaving you hollow. You approach his dresser, leaving your neatly folded outfit on the wooden surface. "Figure out your own shirt."

"No," his sigh is light, almost a laugh, "'M kidding." Your glare only seems to add to his easygoing mood. He smiles, dropping a hand to pat the space next to him. "Come here."

You give in with a sigh, crossing the room and sitting at the foot of his bed. He reaches forward, briefly squeezing your shoulder before returning to work on his shirt. It's hard to watch him stumble through undoing a single button, just to have to start the process all over again.

You pull your legs onto the bed, turning to fully face him. Your knee is pressed against his thigh.

"Lovie," he hums, as if your presence is some kind of revelation.

"Felix." He grins, hands releasing his shirt in favor of trying to grasp your arm. "Wait--" His fingers wrap around your wrist. "I'm--trying--" He pulls your hand towards him, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You laugh. "I'm trying to help you."

He tugs on your arm. His pull isn't harsh, but the unexpectedness of it paired with your buzz makes it enough to throw off your balance. Your freehand presses against the mattress in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Felix laughs, tugging on you again.

Fighting your own fit of giggles, you instinctually push yourself onto your knees in an attempt to regain some control. Felix gives you a second to find your footing. You gently pull his hand off of your forearm and set it on his lap. He frowns.

You extend your arms, placing your hands on his shoulders. Part of the reason for it is to help keep you stable, the rest of it is to keep him focused. He looks up at you, eyes pools of hesitant affection. "Stay still."

He lets you reach for his shirt. "Y'don't have to, I'm okay."

Shrugging, you continue to work at unclasping his buttons. "It's okay, I like helping you."

You unbutton the few buttons that are left. "Better?" Felix nods. "I'll get you a pajama shirt."

Before you can get far, Felix grabs your hand. "We're..." He focuses on bending and straightening your fingers. "Good, right?"

There's something soft about the question, almost shy. "Yeah." He turns over your palm, tracing the lines etched into your skin. "Of course we're good." You adjust, crossing your legs beneath you to sit down.

"Honestly, I was thinking about it, and part of the reason I was upset is because..." This is harder to admit than you thought it'd be. "You seemed really okay without me, and that--I don't know. It's dumb, because I really do want you to be happy, but it made me feel a little replaceable, I guess."

"What?"

You sigh, dropping your attention to your intertwined hands. "I know, I said it was dumb." You pause, eyes darting up to look at him. His expression isn't judgmental or like he needs space. You can't fully read his expression, but nothing about the way he's looking at you feels unkind. "I only mentioned it to be honest, I don't like the idea of keeping se--"

He pulls on your arm again, this time his hold a little firmer. You're closer now. Felix's other hand finds your hip, anchoring you in place. You're too confused to do anything but blink at him.

Felix lets go of your arm, fingers finding their way beneath your chin. He angles your head so that all of your attention is on him. Your lips part, a half thought out question is on the tip of your tongue when Felix leans towards you. His lips meet yours.

You're still, shock and something a lot more electric rendering you in capable of anything else. This isn't the first time Felix has pressed his lips against yours. He's affectionate, especially when drinking is involved. He'll brush his lips against yours after taking a shot together, or just because at the end of a long night. It's not an everyday thing, but it's happened from time to time.

This--this isn't that. He's lingering, lips parting so that his teeth can graze against your bottom lip. Felix pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. His thumb brushes across your cheek.

"You're my best friend." Felix's words are so urging, so pleading you nod before you can think. "Best mate. You're the--the only one that gets me. Really gets me." His hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you back to him.

Any sense of hesitance vanishes the second time he kisses you. He's all consuming, lips dragging against yours with a desperate patience that's dizzying. It's disorientating, the desire to be that much closer to someone when there's no way to get there.

Felix's hand finds your back. He pushes you towards him. There's no good way to oblige. You try anyway, shifting your weight back onto your knees. Felix pulls you forward by your waist. You're too focused on him to realize what's happening until you're on his lap.

He takes his time letting you go, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. "I trust you more than anyone." Felix leans back in, placing a quick kiss against your lips. "You're not replaceable." He squeezes your shoulder. "You know that, right?"

Still breathless, you nod. He's watching you with so much patience, so much care it's almost hard to bare.

His thumb smooths circles against your shoulder. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"

You lift his hand off your thigh to press a kiss against the back of his palm. "Yeah, lets go to bed."

He squeezes your shoulder once before letting you go. You move off of his lap carefully.

Felix sits up enough to push his shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes instinctually fall to his sheets. "Do you want me to get you a shirt?"

"Why? Distracted?"

You roll your eyes in an attempt to the fact that you are struggling to look at him. "Shut up."

He grins as he pulls back his sheets. "M'okay." You take the opportunity to slip beneath the layers of fabric. Felix waits until you're settled to crawl beneath the sheets. "It's warm enough, even with you stealing my blankets."

"I do not," the sentence is more of a mock gasp than anything else. Felix shifts onto his side before collapsing his weight on you. "Felix."

"What?" He rests his cheek against your chest. "This is the only way to keep you from taking my sheets."

You sigh, feigning annoyance as your fingers find his hair. "Rude. I'm a great bed sharer."

Felix lets out a partial laugh against the side of your neck. His hand finds your hip. "You are pretty great."

Your hand trails down towards his back, nails grazing against the bare skin. "You are, too."

Silence stretches between the two of you for so long you assume that he's already fallen asleep. Felix has a talent for drifting off in the blink of an eye.

"Lovie?" He whispers the term so lowly you almost convince yourself the sound is a figment of your imagination.

"Yeah?"

You can feel the shift in his breathing. "It's you and me--just you and me, when it comes down to it." His thumb brushes up and down your side. "You know that."

He relaxes as your fingers trail down the start of his spine. "Yeah. Of course I know that." A part of you feels naive for believing his words so easily. He's too adored to just be your Felix at the end of the day, and yet-- "Just you and me."

Felix leaves an open mouthed kiss against collarbone. It's the kind of warm that leaves goosebumps breaking out everywhere the contact can't be felt. "Good."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour. 

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood. 

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head. 

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning. 

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong. 

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-" 

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?" 

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over." 

*

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him. 

Even if she tied it to one condition. 

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat. 

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 

*

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends. 

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel." 

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should. 

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. 

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?" 

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday. 

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph." 

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell." 

This gets him a huffed laugh. 

"He'd love this place, it's really cool." 

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard. 

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself." 

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit. 

"Listen, your highness …" 

"Steve is fine." 

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick." 

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly." 

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?" 

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged." 

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets." 

Eddie frowns. 

"Dustin as in the kid or …" 

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon." 

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way." 

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow." 

*

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains. 

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?" 

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number." 

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[grandlinedreams]

This is totally calling myself out with (why I’m anon 😭), but would you be comfortable doing unexpected pregnancy trope w/ Law. Or just the pregnancy trope in general. I absolutely adore it, but I do know a lot of people don’t/aren’t comfortable with it

Ough i have a request in my drafts that I'm working on that's got a tad more of an angstier spin on this so I'm gonna use this one to give him the happy ending we all hope he'd get :')

[Heads up!: fluff, married!law makes me wanna gnaw my arm off, afab/fem aligned reader, I think Law'd do his best to be a good dad and I will die on that hill]

Truth be told, Law never thought he'd make it this far. There have been a hundred odds stacked against him, tipped the scales in their favor over his ㅡ and somehow, he's still here.

There are days where he wonders if it's worth it, if he's worth it ㅡ and then he remembers Sengoku's words about Cora's sacrifice for him.

"Don't ever attach a reason to the love you've been given."

He's been loved ㅡ by his parents, by Lami, by Cora. By his crew, his friends ㅡ and you. You, who've been patiently by his side this entire time, fighting for a future that's worth sticking around for.

And now he has it. The metal band around his finger is still new to him sometimes, and he fiddles with it when he's lost in thought, rotating it as the little stones shimmer. It's not anything extravagant ㅡ but neither of you had wanted that.

"Who cares about rocks and the money for them when I have you?" You'd said when he asked, staring at him with such conviction his chest hurt.

"Law?" Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, finding you standing a few feet away from where he'd been zoning out as he stared out the kitchen window over the sink. The house the two of you own is modest, but it suits the two of you and Law still has a tough time accepting the fact that he owns a house now, rather than just a submarine. (For man who's spent most of his life uncertain he'd get a tomorrow, he's settled into domesticity surprisingly well for the most part.)

"You were gone when I woke up," he says by way of greeting, catches the nervous fidget of your arms, tucked behind you as you rock back and forth on your feet. "Where'd you go?"

"Town," you answer and when he frowns, you sigh. "I wasn't there long, and I've never once seen a wanted poster. We're not pirates anymore, you know."

"Can never be too careful," he intones, watches you mouth the words with him in a way that suggests it's far from the first time you've heard him say it. (It's true. He's said it a lot.) "Does it have to do with what you're hiding behind your back?"

"Maybe," you singsong before you bring your arms out from behind you, a neatly wrapped box extended towards him. He blinks, then his brow furrows.

"Did I miss an anniversary?"

"No."

"Is it your birthday?"

"No."

"Is itㅡ"

"Just open it, Law." There's an undercurrent of nerves to your tone as he takes the box from you, watching him as he sits down at the table to unwrap the thin bow of red ribbon around it.

You wait with baited breath as he sets the ribbon aside, pops the lid off of it ㅡ and pulls the contents out. You know exactly what it is, having spent the last few days trying to come up with the perfect way to tell him.

Law stares at the cloth in his hands. It's small, made of soft fabric and little metal buttons at the bottom, spaced between where two legs should go ㅡ oh. Oh.

And all at once, it clicks.

"You're pregnant?" He doesn't mean for it to sound like an accusation, only that he's aware neither of you'd been really trying yet ㅡ content to take one day at a time, together.

You nod. "I'm way late on my cycle, and given how lousy I've felt recently..." You watch him stand, leftover nerves making you ramble as he approaches. "I mean I know we've talked about kids but haven't wanted to really try yetㅡ"

His arms wind around you, holding you to him gently. There are a thousand thoughts that race through his head, of what-ifs concerning your health, the baby's ㅡ the fear that he's somehow passed on the disease he's long since been rid of.

He exhales against the top of your head, pushes the worries and fears back. He can deal with those later. Instead, he focused on what he can handle right now. "How far are you?"

"Not sure," you answer. "If we go by cycle, a month or so? Could be earlier than that."

His grip tightens. "You're pregnant," he mumbles, almost to himself. "We're having a baby."

You nod, letting yourself cling to him the way he is to you. "You're going to be a dad, Law."

The thought of fatherhood both excites and terrifies him ㅡ what if he's a horrible dad? He knows absolutely nothing about babies beyond what he remembers from when Lami was born, which is hardly much of anything.

"It's okay to be scared, Law." Your voice is soft, whispered against his chest. "I am too. But we'll do this together, okay? We'll be fine."

Law holds you to him, presses his lips to the top of your head as he thinks of the future. You, him, and the little piece of you both, growing inside you.

"Yeah," he finally says. "We'll be just fine."

[inoreuct]

i mean- if youre willing to write the angstier version 🥺🥺

https://www.tumblr.com/inoreuct/738704605780885504/thinking-about-zoro-being-the-crews-main

more than willing 🤭 enjoy!!

everything kind of hurts when nami comes to.

she honestly can’t tell if she’s opened her eyes or not; it’s all pitch black, and her eyelids feel gummy. the lashes of her left eye are crusted together with what’s probably the same thing making her forehead stiff, so that’s most likely blood. lovely.

the back of her skull bumps against something hard and cold with damp as she cranes her neck around, trying to get her bearings, and she can bend her wrists just enough to confirm that those are chains wrapped around them above her head. it's still too dark to see but she can smell salty air, mildew and rust, hear the vague murmur of the ocean; her body feels sore and stiff all over but she can't have been hanging here long. her shoulders haven't started hurting the way she knows they can.

something moves within the shadows ahead, and nami deliberately keeps her breathing even as footsteps get closer to her. the person reaches the wall to her left and pries something away— a plank, she realises, as moonlight starts spilling through the barred window and the face of her visitor is thrown into sharp relief.

the man is pale, slim to the point of being gaunt with a greasy, grimy quality about him; she presses her teeth together as he slinks forward and clasps his hands behind his back and cocks his head.

“cat-burglar nami,” he begins, beady eyes blinking. "tell us your plans."

her eyebrows go up in a flash, lips pinching in bemusement. getting right to business, are we? "we don't have any," she laughs, and chokes when a fist sinks into her gut.

she admits that she hadn’t expected that as she sputters, coughing as her lungs burn. people usually work up to it; a little bit more forceful questioning and a couple of threats against, say, anything and everything she’s ever loved, and then she’d figure they’d start punching. this man, or whoever he represents— they’re desperate.

and he just proves her right, god, men are so predictable. "what do you mean, you don't have any?" he spits, jagged nails digging in as he grabs her chin forcefully.

nami chuckles again, weak huffs that make her chest heave. her shoulders are starting to ache. “we see someone that needs help and we help them. we don't plan anything."

another swing, straight to her solar plexus. "where's your crew?"

"you don’t… interrogate people often, do you?” she wheezes, and holds her breath as his fist draws back again. the pain bites and then blooms across her cheek, blood-hot and thrumming like an infection, and she works her tongue between tooth and soft flesh, the pocket around her lower gums as she bares a grin and turns her head.

"where is your crew."

this time, when nami's laugh flutters from her mouth, blood goes with it. "here." she takes great pleasure at the fear that singes the edges of the man's face before he tries to blank it again. it’s not very effective. "they're here."

"impossible," he sneers. "we're on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere."

it’s false fucking bravado and it fills her with a sick sense of glee as she smirks at him through sweat-sticky lashes. "impossible's what we're best at, if you haven't noticed." she has no doubt that her nakama have already tracked her down. it’s a matter of time before luffy takes the roof off this place or sanji kicks the door down with a flaming leg.

the third possibility, well— this guy better hope it’s not zoro that comes for her.

she watches as the man digs into his pocket, his breathing harsh. “fine.” the brass knuckles he slips over his fingers gleam in the low light, a pretty polished bronze, and nami’s mouth goes dry. “you don’t wanna tell me? fine.”

all she knows for a while after that is pain. hell, she’d never even been beaten this badly under arlong’s thumb, and aside from the occasional swat to the wrist her mother hadn’t hit her either. this, though— it’s slam after slam of metal into her gut with a hand pinning her shoulder to the wall. her entire body shuts down for a moment when the hard edges jab into her liver, and she chokes back a scream when she feels her ribs snap seconds after she hears them break.

the air feels too thick when he finally pulls back, damp with her own breath, her body hot all over and shivery with pain. this isn’t an interrogation— this is someone taking out their frustrations, and it’s confusing because she doesn’t even know one, who this guy is and two, what they did to warrant such a violent retribution because, and she reiterates, she has no idea who the fuck this guy is. if it turns out that he’s just a nobody who got too ballsy she is going to be relieved but so, so mad.

her entire body’s starting to feel like one big bruise. the joints of her arms burn as she tries to lift herself up, to take some weight off her shoulders, but a cold chill settles in the pit of her stomach when she sees the glint of metal. something else, as if the knuckles weren’t enough— silver this time, sharp and liquid, and she is gonna throw luffy in the godsdamned ocean for taking his own sweet fucking time because where the hell are they.

her new personal annoyance breathes a huff of a laugh as he slowly drags the knife down the front of her blouse (and thank god she’d decided to wear one today), grazing over the shiny buttons until there's a soft snck and the dull sound of the very last one clattering to the floor. "still not talking?”

…okay, that's it. time to get out of here. "fuck you," she says loudly, turning her face towards the window so her voice carries even as she keeps her eyes on the leering bastard in front of her. hello? she wants to yell, the voice in her head steeped in annoyance and fringed in just the tiniest bit of anxiety. i needed backup in here ten minutes ago? ring ring? anyone there?

she can see the looks on her crewmates’ faces. luffy would have that big sheepish grin on, one hand pressed to the top of his hat on his head as she reams him out for their tardiness before he blames it on zoro, the swordsman looking off to the side with a hand on his hilts, in a stubborn sulk.

the knife digs into her cheekbone, grimy fingers squishing her face, and nami grins as she chokes out the first name that comes to mind, under her breath and half-mouthed. "zoro."

he's here, she's sure. her crew is already here and he’ll hear her, he always does. she can feel it in her bones, in the blood that's dripping from her chin, because zoro's never let any of them down. he’s one of the first people who had understood the weight of guilt and unwanted responsibility crushed onto her shoulders, even through her betrayal, and he’d fought for her freedom without hesitation. he won't let anything happen to her. luffy wouldn't, sanji wouldn't, usopp wouldn't— they're gonna get her out of here and then she’s gonna see these bastards burned to the fucking ground.

nami’s a pretty thing, she knows. all short skirts and slender hands and freckled skin but she packs a punch, and she can take one too. she’s held out this long and she can do longer if need be.

she isn’t afraid to ask for help anymore, either— not since then, that faraway time when she’d pushed metal through the only physical evidence of her ties to the man who she’d nursed so much hatred for, hatred that she’d turned into strength.

the man pushes her face away and the tip of the knife nicks across her skin, a shallow slice down to the right side of her upper lip and then the knife is moving, a bright flash of silver, and her voice breaks when it stabs right into her shoulder.

it fucking burns. the tip wedges between the joint, slowly snapping cartilage as the man twists it with a cackle, and she seethes through her teeth. luffy had taught her that strength was asking for help. that admitting that you need someone to save you, if only in that moment, is the bravest thing anyone could do. zoro had taught her to wield it like a weapon, to withstand the strongest of the storms of her own creation—

and she grins, now, as the blade cuts through her flesh and blood drips into her mouth, eyes wild. “zoro!”

the knife drives deeper into her shoulder, white-hot. "cry all you want. they won't get here in time."

that pain is a reminder that she is alive.

her core tenses as she kicks off the wall and drives her boot into the man's gut, heel slamming into his spleen— it winds him enough that he doubles over gasping and nami smiles painfully wide, a wild, vindictive thing. "fuck. you."

“you’re gonna regret that, bitch,” he hisses, and he’s shaking, trembling as he drags himself upright and nami knows that by the gods, he’s only human and she’ll kick him again. she’ll kick him as many times as it takes. sanji would be so proud.

she huffs a laugh, mean and low and raw as she presses her cheek against her bicep and lets her head tip down. she’ll rest, just for a little while before she gets back to fighting and clawing like a bat out of hell. something flickers at the edges of her vision, warm orange bleeding into the peripheral even through her lowered lashes and a soft, whispering crackle that carries on the breeze, smelling of ash— fire. a resounding boom shakes the walls and the man’s head snaps to the window, to say something or maybe to yell—

nami doesn’t get the chance to find out before a blade cleaves him clean in two.

the vertical halves of his body stay frozen for a split second before they slide apart and crumple into a mess of pink and ivory, slick red on the rough-hewn floor. wado gleams wickedly in the moonlight as zoro flicks the gore off her blade, shining silver streaked with the same blood that drips from the swordsman’s face.

“witch,” he grits out, eyes blazing beneath his bandana as he pushes a seething breath through his teeth, and there’s clear worry in the way he uses the side of his hand to push her sweaty bangs off her face and tilt her head up. it reminds her of her mother checking her forehead for fever, and she almost laughs. “you good?”

nami’s eyes burn as she stares at him tiredly. “no. i’m not fucking good,” she deadpans. “get me down.”

sparks shower down above her head as zoro cuts through the chain stringing her up, and her stomach swoops when she drops before an arm catches her around the waist. she cries out as it hits her ribs directly and zoro swears, his sword clattering— and then nami's world tilts as she's leaned carefully against the wall and zoro's face swims into view.

"hands out."

"what took so long?" she snaps weakly, trying to catch her breath. her hair bunches against the wet, grimy stone, and now that there's nothing to worry about she almost gags.

"they weren't completely stupid. took a while to find you," zoro grits, voice tight, before his face softens. "now put your hands out."

it's a struggle to lift them but she manages, albeit with her arms lopsided. the iron shackles around her wrists and rusted and heavy, tight enough that the skin of her wrists is itching, and her arms ache something fierce as zoro slices through the short chain connecting them and then eases his blade through the scarce gap between metal and skin to pop them open one by one.

she hears a cannon boom again. franky, probably— the walls shake and all of a sudden she’s aware of the raw relief coursing through her system, so much that it hurts, like blood rushing back to a limb. she’s lightheaded with it. or perhaps that’s… something else, she ponders faintly, as a knee buckles underneath her and zoro hauls her up before she can fall.

"just hang on, witch, i've got you,” she hears him murmur, squinting at him in the orange light as she’s lifted horizontal, an arm below her back and one beneath her knees.

her own arm flops uselessly, blood soaking her sleeve and collecting in the crease of her elbow. nami reaches up to find purchase and digs her manicured nails into the swordsman’s trapezium. "zoro."

a pause in movement as he looks down. "hm?"

she pulls herself up enough (or pulls him down enough, she can’t tell) to look him in the eye and says, low and dangerous, "i can't do it myself right now, so— give them hell, but don’t kill them. make an example of them. make them a warning.” the last word is spoken quiet enough that she can barely hear it herself, and zoro’s eyes are deadly serious. “death’s a privilege i don’t want them having just yet."

she can tell that the idea doesn't sit well with him; he bristles like an angry cat and his nostrils flare, but she knows he understands when he jerks a nod at her all the same as they step through the busted door and past piles of bodies, all the way out until they’re graced by the last smears of yolk-orange sun across the sky.

somewhere, luffy laughs.

nami shifts and as far as she can see, her crew is going fucking ham. she watches usopp shoot a man point-blank in the face with something that explodes in a shower of red dust and sends him twitching to the ground. another guy goes flying as jinbei quite literally throws him, and a whole row of goons get slammed into a crumbling wall as her captain swings his arm.

“cook!” zoro roars over her head, and it’s barely a second before sanji’s cutting a path towards them, kicking enemies out of the way left, right and centre before he stops right in front of nami.

his mouth parts in a silent question even as his eyes grow stormy blue with anger, face darkening when his gaze locks with zoro’s, and neither of them need to say anything. sanji just nods, solemn, before zoro carefully hands her off and makes sure she’s settled. wado sings as he pulls her out of her scabbard, and he’s relatively out of sight with a spray of coppery red.

nami swallows, suddenly very aware of her dry throat as her temple thumps down on his shoulder, and she gets the sudden ridiculous urge to apologise for her half-dried blood dirtying his suit.

“none of that,” he hushes, and fuck, she must be more out of it than she realised if she’s speaking out loud. sanji chuckles tightly. “you're alright, my dear. we've got you now."

she cranes her neck slightly to check her immediate field of vision, counting off mentally. "where’s everyone else?"

"taking care of things." an elegant hand appears and curls around her broken ribs, making sure they don't jostle as robin walks calmly into view. her beautiful face is serene. “they hurt one of ours. nobody except our crew is walking out of this place.”

nami blinks at her, limbs leaden, eyes narrowing with an irritated sigh as she cradles her injured shoulder against her body. “somebody better get my fucking clima-tact.”

she passes out.

*

the world is a soft blur when nami wakes, like she’s seeing things through dandelion fluff. or pain meds. probably pain meds. she knows she’s in chopper’s infirmary; the smell of antiseptic is painfully sterile, and she is glad of it. she vaguely remembers being carried in, sanji’s voice pitched low, someone sponging the blood from her skin as chopper’s hooves carefully prodded her torso.

the mattress dimples under her fingers and she jerks a little at the sound of slippers pattering towards her, cutting off abruptly with a yelp and a few hissed words. luffy’s hat is lopsided, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

she slips back into unconsciousness with a smile on her face.

*

the next time she comes too, she’s still in the infirmary. she doesn’t open her eyes just yet— soft breathing fills her ears, slightly raspy, a soothing rumble like the earth itself is shifting. she knows it’s zoro. it couldn’t be anyone else.

sure enough, the swordsman is asleep next to her pallet, squished into a chair that’s slightly too small with his arms crossed and his chin dipped to his chest.

nami coughs loudly, immediately regretting it as her chest and shoulder flares with pain, and then deciding that it’s worth it when zoro nearly tumbles out of his seat.

they stare at each other for a while. nami raises an eyebrow after three seconds of zoro being wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “how long was i out?”

the swordsman recovers himself with a swallow and a hand scrubbed through his hair. “not long. it’s the second morning after.”

she hums. “who were they?”

“a bunch of idiots who got lucky. we just jumped in and beat the shit outta them like usual.”

a muscle twitches in her forehead because god, they really were just idiots with balls too big for their pants. “and where are they?”

“marooned on that island, s’far as anyone’s concerned. luffy and franky turned their ship to splinters.” the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth is a feral, satisfied thing. “ain’t no way they’re going anywhere anyway, even if they still had a boat. probably can’t even get their sorry asses off the sand. we didn’t kill them—” he says before she can get a word in edgewise, and nami closes her mouth, “but they’re closer to death than life, that’s for damn sure.”

a second’s pause, before she deems the answer satisfactory. “the others?”

“resting. or on watch.”

and it sounds to her for once like there’s nobody rootling around in the kitchens. “awfully quiet, no?”

zoro huffs a laugh, knowing what she means immediately. “the cook told luff to keep it down.”

both her brows go up at that. their captain is not one usually inclined to keep it down. “surprised he listened.”

“he does what he wants.” zoro shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “and he wants you to get better, so he listened.”

maybe it really is the simplest thing in the world. luffy is simultaneously layers upon layers and one thin sheet. he is so much and yet still so simple in the way that he cares. nami takes stock for the first time, vision widening to encompass the rest of the room. it’s early morning, early enough that the top of the sky is still dyed dark, pale blue and pink streaking the rest. her body aches all over, concentrated in her shoulder and ribs, bandages looped in layers beneath the soft, loose shirt that she’s pretty sure is sanji’s. there are dark circles smudged under zoro’s eyes and his hair is loose. her clima-tact sits on the table nearby, as does—

luffy’s hat glows in the early dawn, individual strands lighting up like spun gold. it’s old and battered and worn thin. it makes nami’s heart feel warm.

“sorry."

she blinks, turning back to zoro to find him with his head bowed, hands clenched tightly in his lap. “…hey."

"i'm sorry," he says again, taking a deep breath that shifts his massive shoulders as he sits back. "we should've gotten there sooner. they shouldn't have been able to get to you at all—"

"hey." nami pushes a palm against the mattress to sit up before the pain makes her decide against it, grimacing. "don't be stupid. you got there before anything happened."

zoro's eyes are blazing when he finally looks up. "that's bullshit. the fact that they got you at all is—” he bites off his words, chest rising with a measured inhale that she suspects doesn’t help much. “and something happened, witch. a lot happened. you're bruised half to hell. they broke your ribs. your shoulder—"

"will be fine," she stresses, rolling onto her uninjured side to face him.

“your face.”

“superficial.” nami reaches up to press her fingers over the bandage on her cheek, feeling the silhouette of stitches beneath. unbothered by the way zoro’s seething. “our doctor’s one of the best. at worse, now luffy and i match.”

“you’re missing the point,” zoro grits, fists and teeth clenched so hard they both creak. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. nothing like this. not with me around.”

she knows her physical injuries aren’t all he’s talking about. knows he’d noticed the missing button on her shirt. knows that it’s guilt that’s eating him up inside, staining his undereyes the same purple as her bruises and putting that haunted look on his face.

nami sighs. zoro's a dumbass on a good day and he's got the emotional awareness of a brick wall, but of course he has to get this of all things.

she says it sarcastically in her head, but the thought makes her want to curl up and cry. the way he’s staring at her, wide-eyed and waiting for her judgement, makes something in her ache so fondly that she sniffs before she looks down.

he looks his age, for once. not a child anymore but also barely a man. too young to have so much weight on his shoulders, but aren’t they all? the words would be easy to say. it’s not your fault. don’t beat yourself up over it.

but mercy towards himself a language in which zoro is still not yet fluent, so for now she’ll defer to a more familiar tongue. "i'm fine. promise,” she mutters, looking down like she doesn’t mean it with everything she has. like she wouldn’t say anything to make him feel just a little better. “but you keep up with this attitude and i'll add to you debt."

he sputters, weak but still incredulous. "i just saved you, you witch."

"so?" she swallows her heart as she arches a brow. "you didn't do it fast enough. what's your point?"

"you're a tyrant," he breathes, rolling his eyes and huffing a loud breath as he looks away.

nami smirks. "a tyrant who budgets for your liquor with our beri, might i remind you. now go get your cook to make me a snack."

"he's not my cook!" zoro hisses, half in shock, getting up on reflex like a startled animal to yank the door open and storm out.

nami can’t help it— she laughs as tears spill hot down her cheeks, and she swipes them away so her bandage stays dry. it feels so good to be able to banter like this again. she hears her crew now, their voices rising and falling as zoro breaks the news, the cheers going up against the still morning air; it warms her through like fire on a brisk winter’s day. the gauze wound around her torso restricts her movement, but nami eases herself back down into the pillows with a sigh and let the noise of her nakama wash over her.

it soothes the ache. they always do.

(zoro returns within ten minutes with a slice of tangerine cheesecake and a mug of rich, creamy chocolate. sanji's drawn a spiky, frowning mossball on the top with milk foam, and she giggles when she looks up and zoro's making the exact same expression.)

(later, before the sun is even properly up in the sky, her crew curls around her in the tiny room she’s temporarily calling her own. they sit on every available surface and take up every available space, in the infirmary, in her heart; luffy’s cross-legged at the foot of the bed, beaming at her with a mouth full of chocolate biscuit. robin’s hands lift her hair off the nape of her neck. franky’s knitting some sort of sweater with yarn that’s coincidentally her favourite colour, and jinbei’s voice is deep and calming as he chats quietly with brook.

zoro stands, a silent sentinel by the door, arms crossed and brow lowered, and when she catches his eye his face softens.

“you gonna stand there all day?” she asks, brow arching in expectation, and she scoots over to make space for him to squeeze in next to sanji by her hip. their lack of squabbling does not escape her notice, but she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth— she’ll enjoy her peace and save it for another day.

and there will be another day. she’s planning on sailing with this crew for a long, long time.)

(even later, after everybody else has filed out of the room, zoro remains by her hip. his face is shadowed and unreadable.

“they should have died for what they did to you,” he says, low and soft. not tightly, no, not when she’d already told him it wasn’t what she wanted— not a protest. just a statement.

“you already bisected the one who did it first-hand,” she hums with her thumb shoved halfway through the middle of a tangerine, oil misting into the air, pith gathered beneath her nails as she pries it apart. “isn’t that enough?”

zoro doesn’t look up as he shakes his head, hands clasped in his lap, and nami feels something in her chest soften because zoro, for every good thing he is, has never been one to address how much he cares, and this— this allowance, however indirect, for her— it means a lot. it means everything.

his head snaps up with a frown as the piece of rind she throws smacks him square between the brows, staring down at the slice of fruit she offers him next like it’s something alien.

he shoves it in his mouth anyway, and she bites back a laugh.

they don’t say much more. they don’t need to.)

[chaoticace2005]

You should like

Provide scenes for me to draw from the Anthony Hater Club fic

Ajcjehdh 😂

Okay so I’ve talked to @blackbumblbee about a few ideas.

I’m really open to any people interested drawing whatever scenes catch your fancy, although I do have a few ideas in mind…

-Niffty sobbing over them ruining her OTP. Absolutely everyone is confused. (Ft. Egg Boiz using coloring books cause they’re silly)

-them having an Anthony hate club meeting with the giant fucking board, making it look like they’re trying to solve a murder. (Think like the Pepe Silvia meme if you want 😂)

-Charlie, Pentious and the Eggs doing their best to cover up the board from a very tired/confused (and in Angel’s case injured) Husk and Angel

-the intervention (some highlights): everyone looking serious (minus Alastor who’s having a great time), Pentious about to shit out an egg boi to everyone’s horror

-if you want something cute then the confession/kiss between Huskerdust

-everyone realizing Anthony is angel (except Pentious), (“ You’re the one Husk is cheating on Angel with?!”“What. No! Pentious! I am Angel!”“You said you were Anthony!”“I am!”“So don’t lie and sssay you’re…oh. I get what’sss going on here.”“Yeah, Angel I am so sorry, we thought–”“HUSK?! YOU’RE CHEATING ON ANGEL WITH HIS OWN TWIN BROTHER?!”“Pentious! You can clearly see it’s me!” “I see nothing but a homewrecker!”)

-Alastor fully decked out in Anthony Hate Club merch looking like he’s having a great time and wants to eat Angel. Angel about to shit himself. ( @blackbumblbee is currently working on this one rn, if more people wanna do that that’s okay! Just letting y’all know)

-there’s also potential for angstier ones with angel thinking he’s gonna be kicked out (side by side comparison to when he was a human and his family kicked him out?)

[rqgnarok]

request: jamie x actress reader!

love your writing 💚

this turned out to be more a lil angstier that i expected but y'all KNOW ME

"You're nervous."

Jamie jumps, bow tie unmade and tangled in his fingers. "I- no. No, what? 'm not."

"Jay," your voice drips with sympathy, tilting your head to the side as you put on your earring. "I told you, you don't have to come if you don't want to. We don't have to do this if we're not ready."

This being announcing your relationship to the world. Somehow you'd managed to keep it lowkey, this thing between you, only your families and closest friends (and the entirety of AFC Richmond, of course) aware of how happy you and Jamie were in a relationship with each other.

But now both your publicists have given you the green light and you've been sitting on the announcement for weeks, figuring out the best way to do it. It was a matter of luck, or maybe a little nudge from the universe, that the Emmys came around just before Jamie had to be back in England for preseason. It was all perfect, a little too good to be true.

Which is why you're threading lightly.

You still his shaking hands by taking them in yours, leaving the bowtie on the table, and kissing his knuckles. "You know, I still think an Instagram post isn't the worst idea. Have you gotten your password back from Keeley?"

"No," Jamie shakes his head firmly, expression determined even if some nervousness lingers underneath it. "No, angel, 'm ready. Promise. I wanna be there to snog your pants off when you win."

"If I win," you smile at his relentless faith in you and the picture he paints. You can't say you don't like the sound of that. "And I'm not wearing pants. And you haven't looked me in the eye since we started getting ready."

Jamie's jaw tightens in frustration, meeting your stare just to show you he can, even if he looks away too quickly. You say softly, "Baby, I'm serious. I know you support me whether you're there or not. Whatever you chose, we've got each other's backs. A hundred percent."

"'s not that," Jamie mutters, slipping closer so he can press a kiss to your forehead without disrupting your hair or your clothes. Your stylist would kill him if she saw anything out of place after it took hours to doll you up. "I want to, angel, 'course I want to. I just- you have to be sure."

"You frown, reaching for him when he goes to take a step back, keeping him close. "What, about coming out together?"

Jamie shrugs, small and dejected. "'bout us, more like."

Realization dawns on you like a horrible, cold splash of water to the face. "I am," you say slowly, hesitating. "...Aren't you?"

Jamie looks at you like you're insane. "Of course I am, that's not what I mean. But if- after we do this there's no going back for you. No more secrets. No more take backsies. Everyone'll know."

"Take backsies," you scoff, glam be damned you cup his face in your hands and get real close.

"Honey," you say, soft and fierce all the same. "Look at me. Are you looking at me?"

"Yes, coach," he teases, and you barely refrain from flicking him on the forehead.

"I'm sure," you say and mean it. Falling in love with Jamie happened effortlessly but it was every day that you chose to be with him, a decision you haven't even thought of regretting. "You were never meant to be a secret, Jamie. And if I did something to make you think that was my intention-"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his previous restraint gone. Some things are more important than composure, you suppose.

He draws back, breathless, holding your chin in his hand and thumbing at the corner of your mouth where your lipstick is probably smudged. "You're perfect. 'm just being dumb, baby, I know you love me. I want you to be happy, 's all."

You frown. "It's not dumb if it upsets you."

"And I promise to talk about it tomorrow," he says as solemnly as you know Jamie's capable of being before he surges to kiss you again with the energy you usually associate with him.

"But tonight we're celebrating you. And every single one of those statue things we're taking home with us. Let's go knock 'em dead, sweetheart."

[buckyscombatboots]

I Wanna Be Yours❦

Part 1: Snap out of it

Part 2: Arabella - Coming soon

One stop off of heaven masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, reader is the side piece, hurt, brief mentions of childhood friend!Bucky, no happy ending (sort of), reader is used, no aftercare, all hurt no comfort, p in v, rough sex, hate sex, doggy style, hair pulling, slapping, biting, allusions to reader being infertile (can be ignored :))

Nicknames: My girl, whore, slut, Sweetheart, buttercup

WC: 4K

The Happier version: My Girl -Coming soon

A/N: This is the angstier version of the fic ‘My Girl’ and is the actually original version of the fic and more truly embodies what I was feeling when writing them both.

A/N: Ive been gone for a really long time (like almost 3 months) and I’m really sorry I’ve been extremely busy, because as a lot of you know I’m doing a PhD right now. Anyway, this is part of a series that I’ll hopefully finish when I’m not so busy. I also have a few requests to finish. Love y’all 💕

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀༺

You both laid in the middle of the hotel bed, your head nuzzled into Bucky’s chest as you held him tight, taking in the smell of him like it was the last time you’d ever be able to. Your mind burned as you broke down every note of his scent; Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted it like a recipe in your head, begging yourself not to forget it. Just in case you ever had to recreate it when he was gone, it was inevitable after all—It was reality, this world you had both created in this room was no longer tangible. Someone was going to find out, or they had already—and to make him keep risking it, running around with you at night. It couldn’t continue, the thought of it ending made your throat tighten and a smell similar to pva glue fill your nose. It burnt as you blinked the tears back. Even as you squeezed him tighter, closer, it felt like he drifted further and further away; you could just feel it. He was distancing himself from you mentally and now physically, to make it more bearable for you both; so that he could lessen the pain, but little did he know the more he moved away the more it hurt, the more your heart shattered into tiny, little pieces that you’d inevitably be left alone to pick up. You wondered if you’d ever be able to repair your heart, or if it had shattered so much into such minuscule pieces that trying would be futile.

You had one final night with him and here you were, spending it cuddling him trying to suppress your tears. You didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes if you shattered, if you showed how much this little love affair truly meant to you. You loved putting up the tough, emotionless bitch act but you couldn’t. Not now. Not if it meant letting him go, never feeling his rough hands trace your every curve, never having him to kiss every scar, never being able to hear his deep, silky voice. You didn’t give a shit about the sex, no matter how mind blowing it was. You just wanted him to stay, you’d become celibate if it meant he’d stay. You’d do anything. But you weren’t “his girl” no matter how many times he whispered it to you softly or made you scream it as he fucked you. You just weren’t his. Not in the eyes of the law and not in the eyes of any of your guy’s friends. She was and you hated her for it, you hated the nice girl who brought you ‘Welcome home’ cookies, who comforted you when you were crying, despite not know you were mourning your chance with her husband, the sweet, beautiful, perfect girl that would one day give Bucky the sweet, beautiful, perfect family he’d always dreamed of. You hated that you hated her, it felt immoral, this all felt immoral. But she had what you wanted; him. She had him wrapped around her tiny, wicked…pretty, well manicured finger, it was wrong of you to force him into this—Bucky had always been weak to you and you used that against him. You made him cheat, but deep down you knew a part of him liked it. He was just like you after all, he was broken and a collector—but instead of things you both collected bits and pieces of others and saved them up inside you, it’s what made you both feel whole.

His arm that had been laying flat under your head shifted, he ran his fingers through your hair, rubbing slowly circles on your scalp, caressing the base of your skull with his warm palm. His touch was too much, you didn’t deserve it. That’s what broke you. The burning in your nose got too much; tears began to stream from your eyes like water from a broken faucet and the knot straining in your throat gave way to heavy sobs as you scrunched the material of his shirt in your fingers “What’s wrong sugar?” He asked indifferently, but you couldn’t answer. The embarrassment from letting your walls finally fall in front of him and the pity you had for yourself, that you detested, jammed your throat. You tried to open you mouth to speak, to tell him it was nothing or that you’d had an awful day at work, you’d always been quite sensitive, he knew that, so the excuse of being yelled at in front of everyone at work would probably work, but no matter how much you tried to summon the words you couldn’t speak. The frustration just made it worse, the warmth from your emotional outburst and his natural heat made it hard to breathe. You pushed away from him, finally distancing yourself. But the implications of your action just intensified your blubbering, you felt like a child as you collapsed in front of him.

Bucky pulled you closer even as you tried to fight him off. You kept your face hidden behind your hair, but he started to peel it away from your damp cheeks. “There we go I can see you now.” He let out a halfhearted nervous laugh, smiling. His smile. Your chest tightened painfully, even through your drowned vision, the full intensity of his welcoming smile hit you like a pile of bricks. “What’s wrong, sugar pea? You can tell me, it’s just us.”

“I can’t- can’t tell you”

“Why not? We’ve know each other since we were kids, you can tell me anything.”

“You’re gonna- you’re gonna hate me.”

“I could never hate you. I’ve seen do a bunch of things and I’ve never once hated you.”

“I’m in love with you.” You blurted, your hands scrambled to your mouth covering it in fear of more words spilling out unchecked. The room fell silent and you heard Bucky’s breathing stop short. You’d ruined everything. Your whole chest ached as your heart beat ramped up, slamming against your rib cage, your ears ringing as the precious Eden you’d created with him began to crumble and rot. Neither of you said a word for what felt like forever, then he slowly pushed you away from him and he rose from the bed slipping on his shoes. “Wait, no don’t leave please.”

“You just had to go ruin it didn’t you? It’s like your specialty.” He turned to you sweeping his hand through the air as he spoke “ Y/N professional ruiner.” He scoffed as he returned to tying his laces “I mean God! You had one job! And it was to lay there and not talk, but you just had to open your mouth.” Every single poisonous word that fell from his tongue knived you.

You held onto his back trying to pull him back into bed “No please, please don’t leave me!” You cried, hardening your grip as he tried to stand.

“You’re so pathetically lonely, you always have been.” Bucky pushed you into the bed, holding your hands above your head as he glared down at you “You’re just like a dog you know that? A creature that can’t survive without its master. That’s what you’ve made me isn’t it? Your master. Well I can’t be anymore, the little doggy needs to realise that she can’t keep forcing people to be in her life, dragging people into her misery!” As he berated you you sobbed, trying to turn away from his scrutinising, to cover your ears. He was right, you were dragging him down into your misery. You were pathetic. You were harming him and his life by existing. “You know what? How about, as a parting gift, we do it one final time? Give the bitch what she wants? Would that make you happy? Would it finally fill that gaping hole inside of you?”

You nodded tearfully, gnawing down on your bottom lip to stop sobbing. It didn’t stop anything. In fact it just made the helpless feeling inside you fester.

He began tearing your clothes off, tugging at your shirt harshly making it catch your ear as he yanked. You resisted the urge to yelp, you didn’t want to anger him further. He tossed it carelessly and gave you a light slap on your cheek before squeezing your face in the palm of his hand. “You’re so pretty when you cry.” He let out a dark chuckle as he scrunched your face “You are pathetic aren’t you? I can’t believe it took me this long to realise just how pathetic you truly are. You can take off your skirt can’t you?” You whine out a yes and start to undo your skirt, but your eyes are drawn to Bucky undressing above you. You watch the muscle under his slightly tanned skin stretching and tensing as he removes his clothes. Once he was nude he looked down at you expectantly, catching your wander gaze with a stern scowl “Why are you still wearing clothes? I just told you to take your skirt off. Do it.” You scrambled to unzip your skirt, fiddling with the zipper. Bucky tutted, grabbing the sides of the fabric and tearing it apart “Simple.”

More tears filled your eyes as he yanked off your panties. You closed your eyes and thought back to the other times you were together in different hotels, how gentle he was as he stroked the soft flesh of your thigh and nibbled at your skin, whispering promises and praise as he approached your core. He’d stretch and tease you till you begged him for more and even then he’d be so very careful as he entered, pressing his skin against yours as much as possible just to feel even closer to you.

A searing pain shot through your scalp, making your eye shoot open, as he pulled your hair wrapped around his strong vibranium fingers “Face down, ass in the air.”

“Aren’t you going to prep me first?” You asked sheepishly, your voice not going above a whisper.

“Why the fuck- No. Just do what I told you to do. I’m hard, I want to fuck you.” He scoffed, clearly tired with your constant hesitations and questions.

Hesitantly you sat up and presented yourself to him, hoovering your face above the pillows. He pushed your head down, your heart jumped, fear blooming in your chest; for a brief moment you thought he was going to suffocate you, the reminisce of his smell on the pillows filling your lungs. He released your head, you lifted your face from the pillow slightly “Stay down.” He ordered sternly, sounding bored as his dripping tip pressed against your entrance. You did as he said, lowering your cheek back down on the cheap fabric of the pillow case; you began fiddling with the cream coloured fitted sheet, rubbing the fabric between the tips of you fingers. Waiting. Then you felt him push into you, a searing, stretching pain tingling through every fibre of your being as his thick shaft parted your walls. You weren’t as wet as usual, you weren’t as ready as usual, you were afraid of him in this moment. More afraid than you’d ever been in your life. “Fucking tight. God no wonder I keep coming back to you, it’s this pussy. It’s like silk.” He sheathed fully inside of you, ramming his weeping tip against your cervix.

“Ow! Buck, slow. P-please.” You requested timidly, stuttering out the last part fearfully, feeling a sense of uneasiness churn your insides.

He guffawed in response, leaning his head down to rest against your arched spine. Warm puffs of air made your hairs stand on end as he laughed at your request. Finally he rose back up, swiping a tear from the corner of his eye “Last time I checked whores don’t have much of a say in how their clients fuck them. Lay there and look pretty, moan for me, scream for me, but for fucksake whatever you do just don’t talk. You’re driving me crazy.” He pulled out in one Swift motion before slamming himself back inside, relishing in the cry that left your lips “I’m gonna use your little slut hole and you’re gonna thank me for it aren't you?” His voice deepened as he asked, changing his pace from long and brutal to shallow and fast. When you didn’t answer he slapped your ass harshly and clawed at your back leaving painful, searing red streaks “I said. You’re going to thank me, aren’t you.”

You choked on your tears as you answered, managing to croak out a very quiet “yes, Bucky.” Before burying your face back into the pillow in embarrassment from the sound of how ruined your own voice sounded. You took a deep breath in, taking in the lingering scent of Bucky’s cologne. Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted the list of fragrances, hoping it would carry you away to a better time. But the sound of his grunting, the sound of his skin colliding with yours and the painful, heavy sadness weighing on your head was too much for you to think back to the past. You were trapped here, under him as he ruthlessly pounded into you.

You felt his once loving cool, metal hand snake around your throat squeezing tightly, you began to choke spit flying from your mouth onto the already tear dampened white pillows “The one good thing about you is you feel so much better than her and you let me do whatever I want to you. You let me choke you.” Bucky gave your throat two strong squeezes before removing his hand to allow you to breathe “she- ah squeezing again? God I’m gonna miss this tight cunt. She’s so vanilla, only missionary, no blowjobs and I practically have to beg her to let me eat her out. But you, you’re a little whore, you'll do anything as long as I pump you full of my cock.” As he finished talking Bucky slammed his hips into your ass, watching it jiggle at the force. He craned his neck down and bit the supple flesh, grinding his teeth and licking the mark before returning to his thrusts, slapping your ass just to hear you yelp. You squeezed him even tighter every time he slapped your ass and with each moan and cry your voice sounded more and more ruined, you hated that even when he was treating you like dirt your body responded to him and he could draw this much pleasure from you.

The gradual heat that had been rising within you was becoming unbearable and the moans you have been trying to silence we’re now impossible to silence “That’s it. Scream for me.” A deep, guttural moan escaped from his open mouth, his hand on your hip growing stronger, to the point that you could feel bruises sprouting “Fuck. So close. So goddamn close, I need you to milk me with you tight hole.” Bucky’s metal hand moved away from you head and slipped underneath you, gathering your slick and fiddling with your clit with his thumb.

“Ahh! So good! So good, Buck!” His hand that was holding your hips buried itself in your hair before he yanked it at. You screamed in response to the burning in your scalp

“I said no talking you fucking whore!” You sniffled in response, feeling your release draw nearer. You pushed back against him choking out a moan as you came on his cock, your walls pulsing and squeezing around his twitching length. Bucky rammed into you a few more time with uncoordinated thrust, believing out a loud “Fuck!” As he painted your walls white. A whimper crawled from your throat as he pulled out; you could feel his seed leaking out of you. Bucky flopped down on the bed next to you pulling a few tissues from the bedside table to clean himself. An awkward silence permeated through the room. Not once after having sex with Bucky did you feel dirty, but today you did. You felt an indescribable urge to get home and scrub yourself till your skin bleed to even hope to remove the icky, gross feeling spread across your skin.

Slowly you lifted your head from the pillow and carefully laid down on your back, wincing as you reddened bottom came in contact with the quilt. You laid there staring at ceiling, tears making your vision swim. Bucky’s rough hand entwined with yours; he squeezed your hand twice and swiped the pad of his thumb across your knuckles tenderly “She’s pregnant. I thought I should tell you. She's gonna give me that family I’d always dreamed of.” The words that were crawling up your throat died, you died. Your body went rigid at the word, pregnant. Of course she was pregnant. The word made you sick, it made you jealous, it made you a crucible of contempt boiling over a bunsen flame—you were going to explode. “We'll, aren't you going to say anything? I’ve been wanting this for a long time. I thought you’d at least be happy for me.”

“Congratulations.” The voice that came out didn’t sound like you, It sounded robotic, metallic and forced. But that was all you could manage, if you said anymore you might snap and strangle him or go kill her. You hated yourself for hating her. But it didn’t make the nagging belief in the back of your mind that it should have been you. That it was destined to be you. He was yours, you were his. It was meant to be you at the altar, meant to be you telling funny stories at your wedding about how you were childhood friends that went to high school and college together, who both had brewing feelings that you both kept suppressed and when you finally both got the courage to confess you had to move for work, but destiny made it so you would both reunite and jump at the chance to confess. It was meant to be you.

“Thanks.” His tone was bitter “ I can stay a bit longer, but I’ll have to leave soon. She’s waiting for me after all.” He cuddled you close, stroking your hair, probably imagining you were her. Had he imagined you were her this whole time? Was it that painful for him to fuck you?

The amount of thoughts racing in your head made you want to step outside into the chilly night air to cool down, but now was your final chance to be with him and you weren’t going to waste it. You ran you hands across the corded muscle of his back, drawing soothing circles just like he used to do for you when you couldn’t sleep. When sleep made your eyelids heavy you barely put up a fight, you welcomed sleep with open arms, you wanted to be freed from the bleak, harsh reality and enter into a dream world where she was you. Yeah that sounded good.

“Bucky?” You called groggily. There was no reply. You crawled over to his side of the bed, it was still warm, and peered over the edge. His shoes were gone and so were his clothes. You laid back on the bed, your eyes catching sight of a torn bit of paper. You grabbed the paper and unfolded it, your hands trembling as you read it ‘I don’t want to see you anymore, please don’t bother my family. - James’ You read the words over and over praying they would change into another message, but it didn’t work. It only made the pang in your chest throb. You scrunched it in your hand as you curled up into a ball trying to disappear as you soaked up the shadow of his body heat, the memories of him that were lingering in that shadow—high school when he sat with you behind the bleachers in the rain and gave you his varsity jacket to warm you up “I’m your portable heater at this point.” He jested, letting out his signature low husky laugh that made you melt, college when he held you from behind as you cried into your pillow about your college senior boyfriend who dumped you, because he was graduating; you could still feel the phantom of Bucky’s warmth whenever you were sad thanks to that day. The day he stroked your hair and whispered into your ear that “He didn’t deserve you.” And that he’d “never make you feel like this.” Well he had so many times, he was right now. But it hurt even more now, it was over for good. You’d lost him, you were too many years too late and now you were just clutching to fleeting memories, but God if the feelings didn’t sting every time you thought about him. It was hard not to, he’d dominated every significant moment of your life. But now you were barred from his perfect little family.

Slowly you unscrunched yourself from the ball you’d folded yourself into, spreading your body out like a starfish drying out on the beach. Your throat was scratchy from crying and your eyes were heavy and swollen. Everything hurt, but simultaneously you were so numb.

You thought of showering, you thought of searching through your bag for some pain meds, you thought of driving your car off the bridge back to the city. You thought a lot, as you laid there staring at the yellowed patches on the popcorn ceiling from water damage.

You thought so much and so hard that you didn’t even notice you’d started crying, again, you were drowning in your emotions. You were huddled in a lifeboat slowly filling with water, with no sight of land. You were waiting for him to save you, but he wasn’t coming back “I wanna be yours. Just wanna be…”

A disembodied voice continued “Yours. Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought.” The sweet sound of the man’s singing stops “I thought we were gonna sing together, sweetheart.” There was a soft knocking on the wall next to your head “No more crying okay? Guy was a dick anyway.”

“Who are you?” You questioned, sitting up and pressing your ear against the paper thin wall

“A person who’s also been left out to dry, a person who also needs someone to stop me from drowning. If you want some comfort I can come over; we can just lay here, Y/N.” The way he said your name brought back so many memories, you knew who he was

“Ari?” You asked hesitantly, the man who Bucky said didn’t deserve you all the way back in college was on the other side of the wall. He’d listened to everything. You wanted to evaporate.

The door knob of your room jiggled and then the door creaked open. In the doorway was Ari, droplets of rain trickling down his skin. He dipped his head down so he didn’t hit it as he entered your room, his brown hair was a bit longer than it was in college, his beard a bit fuller, he was much more muscular and his chest was more hairy; but for the most part he was the same, he even still had the same crotchety, yet solemn look on his face “Hiya, Sunshine.” His voice was low and soothing, as if you were the finest China that he was worried about shattering. He closed the door gently and walked over to the side of the bed, crouching down to try to make his bearish figure smaller and less daunting “Long time no see. didn’t think the next time I’d see you would be in a shoddy motel, but life is nothing if not unpredictable, right?”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @addie5587483 @flamefoxxrecs @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @taramaria @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @teddybearsgrr @raajali3 @godesslaura @alma13-blog @cevansgurl @sojuxxi @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @bean-is-reading @emi11ie @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @royalwriteroftheuniverse

[theemporium]

Okay but royal AU but make it angstier

Queenie is just overall very isolated, maybe it’s not just a cultural barrier but also a smaller language barrier and everybody always assumes women are dumb anyway so why should she care about the politics of court, so the only contact she has are a tutor for the language and maybe her hand maidens but god knows how many she actually got to keep, maybe she even send her old maids back home, not wanting to keep them from their families isolated in a strange country when she knows how cold it is

But she’s a good soul and she doesn’t complain, Max and her husband can go much more freely, late at night when they think she’s sleeping in her adjoining bedroom (because there’s no need for the regents to share a bed unless it’s for the purpose of making an heir) she hears them talk about hunting in the forest or visiting shops in town, she hears tales of adventures and love and she dreams about experiencing something like it one day

now it’s not unusual for a queen to keep to herself especially a new queen that still has heaps to learn but queenie is just like a ghost, few people see her and soon the rumor goes around that she isn’t even around, sent back to her homeland after failing to produce Charles an heir or even worse she’s been keeping occupied by a lover while the king works tirelessly for his people

Charles doesn’t even realize what’s going on but Max hears the talk and he becomes concerned because stepping outside of the royal bedchamber would be a scandal and he doesn’t want Charles painted in such a bad light

In reality queenie just looks herself away in the library, spending day and night hunched over books trying to learn the language the culture anything to win her the favor of the court and the people, she’s desperate, even ready to bed Charles and produce an heir should he chose to take her before leaving her bed and returning to his true love

It isn’t until Max finds a diary she usually keeps on her person at all times, and of course he knows how to read the language of her people, he’s highly educated in more than just fight, so he realizes what’s going on and goes to tell Charles but when they confront queenie about it she’s terrified because she knows it’s dangerous and if somebody found it and read all of the secrets the court and country would be in shambles, not to mention the danger it would bring to the king and his beloved, so she fears that Charles will banish her or worse, lock her up for treason to the crown and throw the key away, but she belongs to a people and a country that isn’t hers and she just so desperate to have something that was hers alone

STOP IT😭😭😭😭

the realisation for charles when he finds out she’s been learning his country’s language and politics and traditions🥹

maybe it’s christmas time in the kingdom. maybe charles has been so wrapped up in all these meetings for alliances and stuff, that he barely notices. maybe he’s surprised to find the place decorated, maybe even his bedroom

and she kinda gives him this soft smile like, “I thought you and max would like it. I did my room too” and something in his chest just aches at the way she said it

imagines charles making a point of spending the day in the library with her, asking about her traditions back home and if there was any she wanted to do here because this is her home too. imagine she, charles and max doing one of the traditions together and it’s the furthest thing from lonely she’s felt in months😭😭😭😭😭

imagine as they all get closer, charles asks for her to sleep in his room and she expects it’s because he’s finally ready to try for an heir. but it’s nothing of the sort. he just wants to hold her, so does max. these boys just wanna engulf her and be with her during the night instead of letting her sleep alone in the other room with a dying fire that she felt too bad to ask any of the maids to feed🥹

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Forgotten sorrows

Chapter 3

Fae!Soap X Female Reader

We see things from Soap's perspective as he navigates through his growing feelings.

Warnings: MDNI, suggestive language, dark themes, manipulation, mention of abuse and trauma, MDNI, sorry if I missed any.

I was going to make this alot angstier but I decided to pace myself and do that for the next chapter. This chapter isn't that dark but it still touches up on sensitive topics. The witch best friend makes a brief appearance at the end but I'll definitely be writing alot more of her in the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. This Fae au belongs to @ghouljams I feature alot of their Oc characters in my writing.

Forgotten Sorrows Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 6.3k

Soap's Pov 

"So what are you in the mood for?", Gaz says leaning against someone's car. "A painter?, actor?, writer?, there's a whole buffet layed out for you here, ya lucky bastard", he says keeping his eyes peeled for some sad naive soul to sink his teeth into. 

"Ah'm not too fussed ah just wannae eat"

Soap looks around the festival searching for an easy meal after his latest strings of failed…encounters to put it nicely. Artists these days were so difficult to exploit, it was like beating a dead horse for crumbs. His appetite wasn't what it used to be, even with completed artwork the hunger would return soon after. He needed someone naive and ready to churn out art like their life depended on it. Just so he could feel satiated for a while before finding his next victim. 

"I don't think I'll find much here, but the costumes are funny to rate on their accuracy", Gaz sighs

Soap hums as he locks eyes on a pretty little comical fairy walking in with a theater group. He could hear her voice from here. He watched as she easily got roped into a raffle scam at the entrance as her group walked to the stage. He laughs as she buys several tickets. Probably thinking luck was on her side. This was as good a sign as any to make his entrance. 

Gaz took the hint to go off to do his own thing while Soap went to hunt. Ensnaring her was one of the easiest things he's ever done. A few compliments here, a few longing touches there had her in the palm of his hands in seconds. Her naivety was honestly concerning how unguarded she was in regards to everything. Almost as if she knew she'd be taken care of in the end. But Soap didn't mind, he just wanted to feed. She was all too eager to share her binder of plays and her dreams of them reaching Broadway. She had potential, he'd give her that. She was also very much willing to work herself to the ground to achieve her goals. As well as using any available resources near her. Which was exactly what he was looking for. 

He got his hooks into her before she had to leave to meet her sister and quite a few for that matter. He had more hooks in her than the minutes he spent talking to her. But that just meant he could consume her in a shorter period of time. He kept an eye on her to make sure no other Fae tried to take what was his. It was then that he saw you working your little stall with all sorts of art pieces cluttering your display. You had a pleasant air about you, something very comforting. He saw you fret over your sister's naivety and try to school her in basic knowledge. You had a glint in your beautiful eyes. One that he rarely saw anymore. He could feel the love and intent behind each one of your pieces as if you made them with specific people in mind. People who needed love, people who needed care. The pieces attracted those who lacked in those aspects and you sold them with gratitude. He was so occupied with you he didn't realise his little pink fairy had left. But he couldn't stop himself from watching you from afar. There was just something off about you. Like you were cloaked in an imaginary veil. Like your true self was hidden. Gaz had brought Ghost for a chat after meeting him while exploring, with Love, Liebling and Konig trailing behind with food in their hands. Liebling kept her distance with Konig shielding her from Soap's view and vice versa. The whole time talking to them he couldn't keep his sights away from you for more than a couple seconds. Everyone seemed to have noticed. Gaz made a passing remark about him burning through his artists like cigarettes. 

Love had a mischievous look in her eyes and wanted to investigate whether to tease Soap at a later date or just to mess up his chances with his new artist, so she dragged Ghost with Konig and Liebling trailing behind to go look at the stall and get more information. Soap watched from afar to see what she was up to, not trusting her unpredictable behaviour. He often wondered how Ghost dealt with her, but was also jealous he found a life partner before him. It was actually unbelievable if he thought about it. Ghost had been alone for years refusing any interaction with humans unless it had to do with him feeding. It took Soap a really long time to get Ghost to consider him an acquaintance let alone a friend. But he decided not to dwell on his relationships right now, he was more concerned with what Love was about to do with you. He already had your sister in his grasp; so he wasn't planning on pursuing you as of yet. Maybe not ever. He just found you intriguing, he tried to convince himself.

He saw you tense up the second they were in a miles radius from you. Like a switch had flipped sending you into fight, flight or freeze mode. You definitely froze at the first glimpse you got of Ghost like a deer in headlights. You recovered quickly and put back on a professional smile while trying to keep calm. It was entertaining seeing you tremble as you painted Love's portrait as Ghost kept his eyes on you. It was even funnier when that seer approached your stand with her giant of a boyfriend trailing behind her like a love sick puppy after Ghost had showed off the portrait you painted. You looked like you wanted to run and hide or possibly faint but kept up appearances. You were smart and never thanked them, it seemed like you had some knowledge in regards to interacting with Fae. You held yourself with grace even in difficult situations, it was admirable for a human. Most would have ran away. Getting hooks in you would prove to be difficult, he thought. So your sister will have to do, to satiate his growing hunger.

He found his little pink fairy at the food stall and offered to buy her snacks while he continued to chat her up. A little longer goes by and he feels that same pleasant air he felt watching you, this time much closer. He sees you looking around and finally setting your eyes on your sister who was eating up every last word he was saying to her. You approach out of breath panting. And your sister introduces him to you while she continues to chat to him but he wasn't paying attention. He couldn't take his eyes off you, even though he tried. He thought you were pretty from afar but seeing you close up was a whole different story. All kinds of unholy thoughts were running through his dirty mind. He couldn't help himself picturing you beneath him in your current state with a flushed expression and out of breath. Moaning and begging him for his touch, his lips, his tongue. He caught your not so subtle stare at his lips which he smirked at seeing you get even more embarrassed.

He saw you hurriedly introduce yourself before your sister could give out your name. Faoi Rún? translating to confidential in Irish, he smirks at your antics. Just Rún had many translations but he assumed you meant a 'secret', when you told him to address you as such. Weren't you a pretty little smart ass he thought. Maybe you needed a lesson in manners. One he'd be more than happy to provide. Picturing you bent over his lap squirming trying to escape as he paints your ass different shades of colours, while you whimper and cry for him to stop. He could feel blood rushing to his cock, he needed to quickly navigate his thinking elsewhere. So he settled on asking you some questions. 

You were quick and concise with anything you answered not giving any room for follow ups. The complete opposite of your sister who liked sharing every detail under the sun about herself and her work. It only took him a couple of minutes at the start before he had gotten her full name. He saw you chew your lips as you were deep in thought, probably thinking of a way to get rid of him. He could see the weariness in your eyes and the fear. Like you already knew what he was about to attempt to do. It didn't matter though once he successfully isolated his victims away from friends and family it was an easy game to play. You'd get fed up eventually and stop trying to keep in contact, leaving your sister to be consumed by him. And he might just be able to get some hooks in you when you're grieving her loss.  Humans don't really think rationally when in pain or distress. A lot of great artwork is fuelled by sadness and grief so he might be in for a treat.

He left with your sister on that day, he thought about seducing her further but honestly he didn't even need to. She was one of the most gullible people he's ever met. She would believe anything he said and just feed off the compliments he gave her. Isolating her from her friends was fairly easy; they stopped trying to get in touch about two weeks in. He'd make her spend the majority of her time with him and ignore everyone else. You on the other hand didn't give up so easily. Which he wasn't too concerned about as long as you kept your distance. He'd pour his inspiration into your sister causing her to have manic episodes of hours or even days of just writing. She had already fed him 5 short plays, 3 skits and was working on a screenplay, this was 4 weeks in. He was satisfied with the way things were going until you showed up at her door. 

He was honestly vexed when he first saw you come in. It was a bad look for him considering your sister had just collapsed from exhaustion. And he was coincidentally there when her whole house was a mess. He couldn't really talk his way out of his involvement in the matter so he stayed silent after your initial outburst. Not really hiding his anger. You would have seen past it anyway, with being on high alert and all. Charming you would be even harder with your knowledge regarding Fae. So he stood by and watched you seethe in anger at him for the first few minutes. You were really protective of your sister, much to his annoyance. You eventually focused on cleaning away her apartment as quietly as possible not wanting to disturb her. He could see the worry and love radiating off you. He found you furrowing your brows and biting your lips quite often mumbling your frustration to yourself. He wanted to brush his fingers over your lower lip to relieve the pain you were causing yourself. He watched your body mesmerized by its movement wanting to pin you against the wall and make you tremble with his touch. Make you forget everything but him, causing pretty tears to stream down your face as the pleasure overwhelms you. Conjuring your warm body in his mind, pinned and tied to the bed, begging him in a soft voice to stop teasing you. Trailing his rough fingers across your sensitive skin, kissing and biting your neck leaving hickies and bruises in his wake. He didn't even bother hiding the fact he wanted to devour you. Maybe it would scare you off or even better if it would cause a rift in your relationship with your sister. If she viewed it as you trying to seduce him. He could definitely use his tenthers to sway her emotions to his side and convince her that you wanted to have him for yourself. He would catch you looking back at him wearily from time to time. He wanted to know so badly what those pretty eyes were hiding. But he needed to get a hold of himself. He needed to get you out of his head if he wanted to finish what he started. Maybe a brain be gone would help keep you away for a while until he finished up with her or he could go the more complicated route to create conflict between you two. The idea didn't seem so bad. He wanted to watch you break so badly, then finally put you back together piece by piece. 

He enjoyed watching you in a domestic setting, you milling around trying to get things in order. It was almost endearing if it wasn't for the fact you were interrupting his meal. As much as he wanted you, he wasn't in the mood to complicate what he had started. Your sisters was a sure meal, you on the other hand needed more time and finessing to obtain. He was tired of difficult prey especially after not receiving sustenance even after putting so much work into them. Nothing was fulfilling enough anymore, the hunger never leaves him. He wondered what his soul was yearning for if not art?

He watches you enter your sister's room as you go to gently arouse her from her sleep. You come back into the kitchen a little while later to set up the table. He fully expected you to tell him to leave since he wasn't welcome or needed here but to his surprise you set the table for three without saying a word. Your movements had care and intent behind them almost everything you do did. You set up a nice array of food and set it out on the table after heating it. Your sister had just entered then taking his attention away from you. He had to put up an act again, to present himself as the ever caring love interest not that there was any love involved. But he fawned over her making her believe he cared for her wellbeing which served to annoy you further. As your sister tried to convince you that it wasn't his fault she wasn't taking care of herself. You had offered the meal freely to him, though a bit reluctantly. Causing something warm to bloom in his stomach. He watched you take care of your sister to make sure she was well fed and hydrated while glancing at him from time to time. He found your care refreshing, he could tell you wanted to make sure he too was enjoying the meal you had provided even though you tried to act nonchalantly. He almost felt bad about his plan to ruin your sister and possibly your own life….almost. 

He had left soon after the dinner, sensing your glare. He ignored the Fae working at the front desk considering they were weak and harmless. They may have cowered slightly as he left the building. He smoked patiently on the side waiting for you to come out. He watched on as you finally did, blowing hot air into the chilly night. You were on edge for some reason and quickly made your way to your car. He realised why as you were pressed up against the car door by a boggart. Pesky creatures they were if you allowed yourself to feel fear that is. But you seemed determined to escape, maybe this would scare you enough from leaving your house for a while which would solve his own problem without him getting involved. But then he saw that thing trying to grab and undress you and everything turned red. Like a blood moon rising. His rage manifested around him like smoke and cobwebs. He was at the scene before he could stop himself. All he could think about was ripping that thing a new one. You had managed to throw it to the ground and stomp on its groin as he came into view. Your trembling, your scared face, your disgust at the creature fuelled him further to step on its neck as you watched in horror. But he didn't want to give it an easy death, no that would be unfair, that thing needed to learn a lesson. A lesson on not touching things that belonged to him. He leaned down to manifest the most blood curdling nightmarish vision he could conjure to plant in its mind. Its mouth opened in a silent scream from the pain and horror, as Soap snapped its neck before it could make any noise.

He watched as your mind descended into hell as you watched him approach after killing that monster. He saw you close your eyes in fear thinking he'd hurt you next. But how could he? Especially when you were trembling like a little wounded animal. Your breathing becoming labored and erratic. He cupped your face. His anger was still present but it wasn't directed at you; no it was directed at him for not being able to keep his emotions in check. For wanting to hold and comfort you while you trembled in his arms. But he needed to assert his dominance to make you fear him. That's exactly what he tried to do after getting you to open your eyes and made sure you weren't seriously hurt. He didn't want you thinking he cared for you in any sense. It backfired though because all fear seemed to evaporate from your body when he mentioned your sister. Your face grew stern and your backbone straightened. You looked like you were about to claw at his face so he decided to tap your mind away before you could try. He grabbed you as you passed out bringing you back to your condo. Surprisingly he was let in even with the Rowan branch hanging from your door, maybe because he wished you no harm in that moment he just wanted you to mind your own business and stop interfering with his food source. 

He placed you gently on the bed and was about to leave when he came across your work room. He couldn't help but enter. You had many unfinished projects lying around but the ones that were finished almost felt like they were brimming with life and emotions. He traced his fingers on your recent paintings, they all conveyed a similar emotion, the pursuit of knowledge, a need to discover and unearth, a desire to learn and grow. He felt it in each brushstroke, your emotions were so embedded within it was hard to look away. But he managed to come to his senses and left to go back home, not before glancing at your sleeping form one last time. He needed to come up with a backup plan if you decided to remain a thorn in his side. 

And a thorn you remained. He had received a text in the afternoon from Love when you had entered that seer's shop with your sister who had many of his recognizable hooks in her. In comparison to you who had absolutely no hooks at all. It was odd the first time he had noticed. He had chalked it up to you being a sink (as in a person with no magic so tethers just slipped off you) but that wasn't accurate since he did feel some magic from you just not alot. Maybe you were just an odd little human who didn't like being tethered.

Love said something along the lines of his food being taken away by an odd fae with magic that was a little all over the place. He wondered what Fae had the gall to try to take what was his. The description matched you. Which seemed ridiculous, he had just met you yesterday you had absolutely no trace of fae magic on you. Love may have just texted to annoy him. But his brain be gone didn't work if you were with your sister. Thinking back on it now you were wearing your Rowan choker so that may have been the reason why it didn't work. He was foolish to ignore that but again he wasn't thinking straight that night. You had a way with consuming his thoughts. He needed to see for himself what the situation was. You were becoming more and more difficult to deal with. He might have to resort to more hostile methods to get you to leave. So he texted your sister to meet so he could get the situation under control again. 

He sees you from afar as he walks into the park. There's definitely magic in the air around you. Your magic was indeed all over the place; most likely governed by your emotions it seemed. Even Fae children were taught to control their magic better than you. After you started setting up the picnic blanket in a relatively secluded area, the air around you seemed to calm down. You probably felt safer away from people's watchful eyes. Soap didn't understand though, how you were able to go from hiding your magic completely to having zero control over it now. The only explanation would be if you had purposely hid your identity and now whatever magic you used wasn't working anymore. At least your appearance was mostly human so no one would be alarmed if they saw you in Fae form. He watched you with curiosity as you didn't seem to notice him approaching. You were too occupied with the arrangement of the food and your sister ignoring your questions to feel eyes roaming your body. Only when you heard his voice did you turn around to glare at him as your sister went to hug him. All the warmth and love you had held a second ago vanished. The magic in the air spiked as your emotional state because somewhat unstable.

"Ye put in quite th' effort 'ere", he says dodging your sister smoothly once he sees the iron ring on her finger a gift from you most likely. You just glare up at him as he smirked seeing your discomfort at his arrival. Your sister goes on about getting to know each other better which you ignore as your continued glaring. You clearly weren't happy to see him as you look at your sister for answers.

"This was supposed to be a picnic for the two of us", you whisper to your sister. She just shrugs saying the more people the better, and that she wanted you to get to know her boyfriend better. Though he didn't remember ever saying that they were official, but didn't bother to correct her since it served to annoy you further. For the next few minutes you didn't say anything while you continued to unpack the picnic as your sister swooned over Soaps every last word. You were trying desperately to keep your magic in check not wanting to draw more unwanted attention. The bitter taste of betrayal was sitting on your tongue but you didn't want to say anything to ruin this picnic with your sister so you stayed quiet. 

Once everything was layed out your sister eagerly offered Soap some sandwiches and juice saying she put a lot of effort in making them. He caught the lie immediately but feigned ignorance. There was no trace of her care in the sandwiches or snacks. He could only feel yours as you continued to look busy getting your sketchbook out. He didn't want to get accidentally hooked to you by eating the food you made so said he wasn't all that hungry and he just wanted to spend time with your sister. Which caught your attention. 

"We don't put a price or repayment on food, eat freely, my sister would feel upset if you denied her hospitality", you say devoid of emotions very deep in thought. 

"Please eat something, I worked so hard to prepare all this", she says, scooting closer to him trying to graze his arm with the hand that had the iron ring on it. He moved away swiftly avoiding contact.

"Sorry lass, ah have ae nasty iron allergy, can't have ye touchin' me with that ring on".

She didn't even question what he said before she was slipping that ring off. "Oh! My bad! Let me take it off right now", you look at your sister with shock as you subconsciously rub the fingers you had used to put on the iron ring her. How could she just believe everything he said so easily!? Soap smirks at your reaction. You watch as your sister goes to offer him food again as she moves even closer to him. Not knowing what else to do you place your yellow primroses at the center of the picnic blanket where everyone could smell the sweet scent. The smell reached Soaps nose and he felt a headache coming on but he kept his composure as everyone ate and enjoyed the picnic. The smell paired with your sister's non stop talking was chipping away at his composure. He was finding it difficult to maintain his loving persona. He glanced at you while maintaining a tedious conversation with your sister who just wanted to talk about her prospects in becoming famous from her writing, also expressing interest in writing movies scripts. He smiled and nodded as you caught his gaze on you. You seemed on edge with your magic swirling around you as good as an indicator. You looked at him wearily waiting for something to happen or maybe for him to drop his mask. You glanced around the park gauging the danger he could possibly pose in public, probably thinking he wouldn't do much with so many people around. Which you were right about, he wasn't going to cause a scene in public. You were still on edge about your last encounter with him. 

"I'm going to go over there for a bit to sketch", you tell your sister who was practically burrowing herself into Soap's side. She just nods as she continues to talk to Soap. You make your way towards a bunch of wild flowers as Soap watches your figure leave. He couldn't stand her talking anymore and that smell of the primroses was getting nauseating. He needed to get away for a bit to gain some sanity back. So he buttered up your sister with compliments and inspiration and told her to write down a couple of scenes she wanted to include in the screenplay she was writing. She immediately went into a daze getting out her notebook to write whatever was coming into her mind. Soap slipped away a little bit later when she was too occupied to notice his absence. 

He scanned the area wondering where you wandered off to. He saw you crouched down to the level of a small group of children who were probably asking you to draw something for them. You had a gentle smile on your face as you drew whatever the kids asked for, as soap watched. He slowly approached, not wanting to disturb your little moment. You had your guard down smiling to yourself as you drew. The air around was light and your magic seemed to swirl around you and the children affectionately. He has never seen you smile so gently, definitely not at him anyway. He was right behind you as you handed the last drawing to a little child who just happened to be a Fae. The child smiled at you and handed you a stone with a hole in it. You tried saying you didn't require a gift in exchange for the drawing but the child insisted and ran off to go play with their friends before you could protest. Soap watched you turn the rock in your hand inspecting it. Your magic was still swirling around you, it had an almost childlike innocence to it. Soap couldn't help but reach out and feel it run through his fingers. You jolted when you felt him touch your magic and stood up abruptly turning around to face him. Your gentle smile was gone and you were on high alert again. You eyed his wearily wondering why he had followed you. 

"It's ae hagstone", he says pointing to the rock in your hand. You look at it and lift it up to your eye and see if you can see anything different from the hole. You watch the children in the distance but nothing changes. You can only gather fleeting glimpses of peculiarity nothing different from your eyesight now. Soaps eyes you with curiosity wondering why you'd bother looking through the stone when all Fae have the sight to see the otherworld. Though you didn't come across as any other typical Fae. You didn't have hooks. Not even small ones. You gave things too freely for it to be considered normal. Even if you had lived mostly as a human for god knows how long. Most human he knew as least let tethers hook into them when they do someone a favour or give someone a gift. You wouldn't even allow that. Not every tether was meant to be repaid or cashed in. They often just served as a bond of trust between two people. Something you lacked. Your scent and magic operated slightly differently as well from normal Fae. It was very much dominant on your emotional state. Your scent had changed the second Soap had touched your magic. It went from a light sweet scent, like freshly baked goods to something a lot more dense, something a lot darker but the sweetness didn't completely leave. There was something intoxicating about the smell of your arousal and fear mixed together which had him leaning into the air around you, while you were distracted by the rock. You turned to look at Soap again when you felt his breath on your neck. A shiver ran down your spine bringing back the naughty thoughts you had when you first met him. You refuse to meet his eyes not wanting to fall into a rabbit hole of hedonistic thoughts.

"Fae don't need that tae see….something wrong with yer eyes?". 

You don't respond as you put the rock in one of your pockets and make your way towards the wild flowers again. He follows you waiting for you to respond which you weren't going to do. You were still on edge but it was controlled now. Soap could see you trying to keep your composure as he watched you sketch the wildflowers, stopping to inspect them sometimes. You crouched down beside them as you take a closer look at the flower petals trying to understand their texture. Soap watches you with intrigue as he sees you imbed your emotions into every line on the paper. 

"Say, why don't we make an exchange?". You look at him confused as he crouches down beside you. 

"Ah will give ye some valuable info in exchange fur a drawing?"

"Valuable to whom?", you fire back. 

"Ye'll find out once ye know", he gives you his best boyish smirk. 

"I'll pass", you say standing up to move away from him. But he grabs your arm pulling you back towards him. You collide with his chest as he holds you close by your arms. He looks into your eyes deeply feeling your breath on his face as you look up at him shocked. All he could think about in that moment was smashing his lips onto your. Consuming the breath within your lungs as he pulled you against his body. But he knew you'd never give in so easily to him, so he controlled his urges. You two stay like that for a bit until he grabs you a little tighter when you try to escape his hold. 

"Don't do that Bonnie", he says rubbing your arms up and down making you shiver from the unfamiliar touch. "Ah just haven't had a decent meal in a while, nae tae say yer sandwiches weren't lovely, they're just nae what ah typically feed aff", he says almost seeming innocent. 

"Think o' it as feeding the ducks" he smiles genuinely down at you. 

You gently pull away from him contemplating what he said. You could never refuse feeding someone when it was well within your means. You'd betray yourself if you did. You turn to a new page in your sketchbook thinking of what to draw. When a funny idea popped into your head. You draw a duck with a surprising likeness to him. You draw him with his signature mohawk feeding on a baguette. As you're finishing up the drawing you can't help but laugh to yourself at the absurdity of the drawing you were about to give him. Soap watches hold in a laugh as you draw, your walls not so high anymore. It was nice seeing you in this state. He wanted to see what you'd give him without him having to pour inspiration into you. He watches you move your pencil with intent and purpose creating something solely for him. You gingerly hand him the drawing when you were done trying to hide a mischievous smile on your face as you look at his reaction. 

He takes the drawing not feeling any hooks imbed into him. You really were an anomaly. A hearty chuckle leaves his mouth as he finally looks at what you've given him. It was him in duck form chomping away at a baguette. You took his comment literally it seems. It's definitely the first time someone had drawn him in duck form, usually they prefer to draw his handsome face or toned body. He liked your mischievous side, it just gave him more incentive to want to 'punish' you. You smiled at his reaction thinking you did a good job at catching him off guard. Something warm settled in his stomach the longer he looked at the comical drawing. And seeing you smiled just made everything so much better. 

"It's no Van Gogh but ah will gratefully accept it", he smiles to himself enjoying the moment. 

The air suddenly shifts and your mood takes a sudden dip. Soap feels the change as he looks up from the paper. Your eyes are trained on your sister who is writing feverishly, you turn back towards him with hurt written on your face. Which you quickly mask with anger. The moment you two were sharing was quickly ruined. 

"Let her go, I've already fed you", you say, keeping your voice eerily calm. But your magic was ready to attack him any second. You felt stupid for letting your guard down, especially knowing what kind of Fae he was. The air had shifted back to being that of anger and mistrust. Soap felt a sense of loss at the warmth he was just feeling a moment ago. He retreated back into his other persona, one that usually was very effective at putting fear in people.  He put on a nonchalant air about himself as he simply nodded. 

"Ah suppose ye'r right, ah will let her go today since ye wur so kind tae feed me", he says while withdrawing his magic from your sister. 

You don't say anything else as you make your way towards her, she stops writing when you approach her and ask her if she's ok. She nods and says she just had a burst of inspiration she had to use to write down things for her screenplay. Soap not wanting to cause further tension decided to leave without saying goodbye to either of you. He tucked in the precious piece of paper he held into his jacket as he walked off. You watch him leave as your sister comes out of her daze. She immediately asks where he went and you tell her he had a personal emergency and had to leave. And that he had probably said goodbye to her but she might have not noticed it when she was in her 'writing zone'. She simply nods as you pack up the picnic and walk her back to her apartment. You ended up giving her the primroses telling her you forgot you didn't have any balcony room to keep more plants so it would be better if she kept them at her place. She was happy to receive the sweet smelling flower as you left to go back to your place. 

You get home and unpack all your groceries as you decide what to bake for your best friend when you go visit her in an hour or two. You settle on blueberry muffins and go about your kitchen gathering ingredients. The baking served to calm you after your long stressful day. It took your mind off everything else as you focused solely on what you were doing. With the muffins in the oven you move toward the little gift you had bought your best friend, she would never let you pay for the tea or other things she would give you so you'd just leave her little gifts whenever you'd go to visit. This time you had found high quality saffron at the local spice shop. You thought it would come in handy in her spells if not she could use it in her cooking. You go to get some wrapping paper and ribbon to make the container look pretty and presentable. Once everything is done you pack the muffins away as you make your way to your car. 

The drive over was relatively short since she didn't live too far away. But for some reason you felt an overwhelming feeling of guilt and sadness take over you. You stood at the front gate frozen for a few seconds not sure what to do anymore. The day was extremely taxing, especially trying to keep your magic in check. It was around four pm and the sun was still shining and the autumn leaves were swaying on the ground. You entered through the iron gate closing it behind you brushing off the slight sting. The wards engulfed you in an instant, like a warm hug from a loved one. Tears began streaming down your face uncontrollably. You finally felt safe again, not realising you were in flight or fight mode all this time. A warm feeling settled in your chest letting you know everything was going to be ok. You walk towards her front door on shaky legs. You knock twice waiting for her to open the door. You hear movement around the cottage and finally hear the door unlatch. She stares at you shocked, not expecting you to show up with red teary eyes. You stand a bit awkwardly trying to calm your tears as you hold up the container with muffins in it. 

"I brought you muffins", you say shyly wiping your tears away. She just stares for a second trying to comprehend the situation that was unfolding in front of her. 

"Your seal broke", she says finally ushering you in. 

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2023. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

[kiskisur]

Hihii, I just read the Childe x Pierro’s son! Reader

I was wondering if I could request a somewhat angstier version based on Rewrite the Stars?

like reader is immortal while Childe isn’t as well as the situation they’re in due to their positions?

we're not meant to be..

warnings: angst, male!reader x childe, reader is referred as [name], no specific pronouns, (name) is pierro's son, childe died 🥰

note: omfg this is- HELP 😭😭 honestly I don't know if you're referring to something (which I do not know) or it's the song so I'll guess the song? If not please do tell me <3 I'd fix it right away!

edited note: I'm a lot sleepy than usual rn so maybe there's some incorrect things but like slayed ig

IMPORTANT <- must read

there was always this ginger guy who admired you, eyeing you whenever he had the chance and always tried to excuse his way just to get close to you.

you liked him but the thing is.. you're not meant to be.

giggles and laughs could be heard from the distance, approaching childe spotted you with someone and smiled

"well if it isn't my babes!" he whistled, walking towards you and the person who was now shocked to see the 11th fatui harbinger himself.

"what do you want, childe?" you hum in response when he stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him and burying his face on the crook of your neck.

"oh come onn.. is it bad to see the love of my life?" he teased, his voice dropping to a seductive tone before chuckling and smiling widely. "besides, your father told me to give you this~"

he handed you a small piece of paper causing you to giggle and take the letter, opening it you saw a small piece of flower inside with a letter

"another mission.." you let out a frustrated sigh, noticing childe pressed his body against yours, a smirk plastered in his face

"I meann.. I can help you relieve some stress if you wanna, I am good at fucki-" he was cut off by you throwing the paper on his paper and hurrying away causing him to laugh and chase after you "get back here, (name)!!"

tears fill your eyes, shaking your head while you try to stop the blood from spilling out of his large wound

"no! you'll survive I know it! please, please don't leave me!" you yelled, frowning your eyebrows and sniffling as he coughed out and reached out to your face

"hey don't c-cry, (name). please you know I don't like that.." he spoke softly, his eyes teary as he tried his best to reassure you and not make you cry again.

"are you fucking crazy, tartaglia!?" he let out a small chuckle, shrugging before his knees weakened and fell to the ground, making you kneel down immediately and place his head on your lap

"don't leave me, please.. I-I can't live without you." you whisper, stroking his hair before sobbing and staring at his eyes

his heart shattered seeing you cry because of him, looking away and coughing out blood before he caressed your cheeks and shook his head

"I'm not leaving, I never will. but please.. can I ask a question..?" he smiled, his eyes half lidded staring back at your sobbing mess

you nod, wiping the tears off your face while he continued to caress your cheek lovingly "tell me. do you really love me?"

you tried your best not to break down, hiccuping and sniffling before you nodded again "I always loved you from the first time I met you.. you know we can't be together."

he sighed in relief, letting go of your cheek as he looked up at the sky with his eyes full of tears "do me one favor.. give this to teucer"

he reached out in his pocket and showed you a toy car, holding your hand and placing it in your palm. "If he ever tries to find me give this to him, please.."

he smiled once again, brushing the hair that was on your face away to get a better look of you.

"you know, you're.. gorgeous" you let out a small breathless laugh between your sobs, leaning to his touch and smiling softly "you always say that"

"It's true though, thank you a lot (name).." he whispered, closing his eyes and suddenly everything around you stopped.

you stare at his lifeless body, reaching out with hopes to feel the familiar comforting warmth that gives you butterflies only to receive coldness.

he's gone.

hundreds of years past and you still weren't able to move on from childe dying in your arms, sitting down on the same chair childe sat in while having a meeting with the harbingers

"we have a new member with us today, I wish you guys would be respectful and NOT scare them away." your father, pierro spoke. glancing at you before you scoffed and crossed your arms with a frown

"what's the point of having new member when they wouldn't even last a week? it's just pathetic!" you spat, standing up before pierro could protest and walked off

"hello?" you stop.

you turn around to find a familiar ginger haired guy, staring at you with his dull blue eyes before waving and smiling

"t-tartaglia..?" you stutter, walking towards him and reaching out to touch his cheeks as tears filled your eyes

"I'm sorry, who's tartaglia?"

[cocogrrrl]

Hiii! I hope your enjoying your vacay! I was wondering if you could do kinda like a best friends to lovers Kyle x fem reader :)

passenger in the rain

so what are you gonna do about your impending feelings for your best friend, kyle broflovski?

kyle broflovski x female!reader (best friends to lovers), one sided kenny x reader also no cws wc: 2720

an: thank u anon btw! have a version of this completely different but also finished version of the req! its just angstier and a little longer (it shares some of the same scenes as this one though) lmk if u guys wanna see it ^^ although i don't think its as strong lol

Lingering stares, random reminders of him, and hesitance. That’s what it feels like to be in love with your best friend, Kyle.

“So, how was I back there?” Kyle beamed, all covered in sweat in his jersey. He was practicing with his team for an upcoming basketball game, and he asked you to watch him—be his support, you know? Right now, he was on break.“Do you think the strategy was good? Was one of us doing a bit too much?”

To be honest, you were kinda just looking at Kyle the whole time, inattentive to what he or his team was doing. You were struck by the way his curly hair bounced when he’d make runs and jumps across the court and the way he still look so suave even if, god, he was sweaty.

“Kyle, I don’t think I’m the right person you should be asking these types of questions about. I really don’t know the game works.” You replied, scratching your head.

“Really? YN, we've known each other for years. Ergo, I’m pretty sure I’ve tried teaching you how it works hundreds of times already.”

“And each time, I fail to understand anything. I don’t even know the system for deductions, let alone strategizing a good game.”

“Oh, what would I do without you?”

“You’d be asking a person with proper input on your game right now.”

He clicked his tongue, nodding at your statement. “I agree. You’re very much correct for that.”

“I know I am. I am as interested in sports as you are in my hobbies.”

“And what exactly are your hobbies?”

“...Pottery?” You answered, unsure of yourself as well.

“That’s bullshit! I’m pretty sure you were, like, eleven the last time you did pottery.”

“Actually, I did pottery last week with my cousin, genius.” You said a hand pointed up in an ‘um actually’ manner as well.

“Uhuh, and who picked out the venue and activity?”

“...Them.”

“Knew it.”

You pouted, crossing your arms and giving him a light-hearted little ‘hmph!’ at him. “To be fair, I still was pretty good even after years of not doing it.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, rolling his eyes. “Anyways, gotta go. Coach’s calling. Are you down to hang out after practice?”

“Hell yeah.” You nodded.

“Alright, I think this is the last round. I’ll change after, then I’m all yours.” He said, running off to his game after.

That last part stuck with you. ‘I’m all yours.’ As fucking if. You wished it was true, though, definitely. There was no denying that, to yourself at least, you had a huge crush on your best friend. Why would he like you, though? He’s seen you at your worst. Why would anyone like you after they’ve seen that?

You were just glad to even be his best friend still. You weren’t taking the risk of ruining a gem of a friendship at this moment, though.  You were seated in the bleachers, all your focus on Kyle as he shone in the sea of players. For now, you’ll just have to be a passenger in the rain—waiting for a random train to lead you to an unknown place.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You really shouldn��t be having feelings for Kyle. Well, you could and you did, but god, did you hate it. You loathed, detested, and abhorred the feeling of falling in love with him—mainly because you hated dealing with your feelings.

It feels so embarrassing to be so head over heels for your best friend and try to cover it up as well. The “what-ifs” of what could and would happen if he found out freaked you out. Would he be cool about it? Probably not. It would be super awkward, and he’d try to play it off, but it’d be too much to bear, and you two would eventually stop being friends. That’s what you think would happen, at least.

Stupid feelings aren’t worth risking for worthwhile, maybe lifetime, happiness.

Then again, you enjoyed where you were right now—in Kyle’s bed beside him. He was completely knocked out, and his jaw was slightly agape, with the softest of snores filling the dead of the room. The sun gently shone on his face, causing him to look a lot warmer than he actually was—since his body temperature was normally cold even during the heat of the summer.

It felt almost saccharine, almost as if you were already together, if not for the fact that there was a barrier to what extent you could stay like this. Maybe you could just play pretend for a bit in moments like these. You sighed at the thought, lifting yourself from the sheets to go fix your bedhead appearance up.

When you got back after tidying yourself up, you were greeted with a disheveled-looking Kyle already awoken. He looked all groggy, with him rubbing his eyes while his poofy hair was flattened on one side. “Good morning…” He croaked out.

“Mornin’.” You tipped your head and smiled, leaning on the door frame. “You look like you slept well.”

“Sure did,” he yawned, stretching out. “What time is it?”

“I believe it is twelve-thirty PM.” You replied, checking the time of your phone. You were right. It was 12:37 PM.

“Shit, really?”

You nodded. “Why?

“I gotta pick up Ike from his friend’s place around two. He has this group project thing. Mom and Dad’s attending a friend’s wedding today, so they dropped him off earlier this morning.”

“You want someone to come along with you?” You hummed, checking your phone to see if you were busy today. To your delight, you weren’t. 

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna worry your parents or anything.” 

“Nah,” you beamed, finding yourself smiling at his worry for your parents. Despite the fact that you two have known each other for nearly forever, therefore you two were always hanging out together, he still was always worried about your parents getting upset. “I’ll just tell them that I’ll be with you for a little bit more.” You added, texting them already.

“Alright, thanks. I’ll go get ready,” he said, grabbing some clothes as he headed to the door—where you were. “Wanna kill time and get coffee later? We still got a little over an hour before we pick Ike up.”

“Definitely.” You grinned. “Can I borrow a shirt, by the way? I forgot to bring some extra clothes. I only have pajamas. I’ll re-wear my pants.”

“Oh, sure, go ahead.” He nodded, already out of the room, but his back turned to seemingly tell you something. “By the way, you left your skirt last time you stayed here. Mom washed it, I’m pretty sure. It’s in my closet, separated from the rest of my clothes.”

“Ah, alright.” You nodded. “Thanks, Kyle.” 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You and Kyle were currently lined up in the coffee shop, Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse, actually. You were near the front of the line. Kyle, behind you, was scrolling through his phone as you patiently waited for your turn.

On the way, Kyle insisted it would be his treat—which you fought strongly against. You were embarrassed that he’d pay for something rather small like coffee. You were embarrassed whenever he’d offer to pay for anything at all. Or do anything for you, as a matter of fact. You gave up, though, and he said it was his thank you for accompanying him.

“Next!” Your schoolmate, Tweek, called out. You ushered yourself to the front of the line, Kyle right beside you as you two stood in the front.

“Oh, hello, YN, Kyle.” He greeted, flinching. You and Kyle returned a simple nod and waved to him. “What can I—Ack!—get you today?”

“I’ll have one flat white, and I think Kyle’s order is a cortado, but half the milk and replaced by almond milk instead.” You hummed, leaning closer to him to whisper something. “Lactose intolerant.” You murmured to Tweek, pointing at the boy beside you.

Leaning back, you looked at Kyle for his approval. “Am I correct?” 

“First of all, the whole world doesn’t need to know I’m lactose,” he breathed out, rolling his eyes. “Second of all, I’m surprised you know my order.” He chuckled, handing you the money.

Embarrassment crept up on your cheeks. Why did you know Kyle’s order? I mean, yeah you like him, and you’re also his best friend, but that really doesn’t mean anything! …Right?

“Duh, you’re my friend!” You replied, handing Tweek the money—after which you and Kyle walked around the cafe to find a seat.

“Do you know Wendy, Marj, or even Bebe’s order?” He raised a brow.

“Of course! It’s, uh,” you paused, trying to recall the order. “Joke. I don’t think I know.”

“Yeah? So you somehow know my order?”

“Well, it’s because I spend my time with you the most. I’m bound to know your order.” You said, motioning to a table with two free seats by the window. You two sat down.

“Uhuh,” he replied sarcastically. “And you haven’t been following me around when I get coffee in the morning—”

“—Before 7:30, so there’s still extra time.” You both said at the same time.

“Yeah, actually, I think the reason why I know your order is because you’ve said it a good few times for me to remember it as a part of your morning schedule.”

“That would make sense, but I don’t think I’ve ever told you my morning schedule.”

“What?”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Still in the coffee shop, just many moments later, Kyle spoke up. “So, how are you and Kenny?” Kyle asked, scrolling through his phone as he took a sip from his drink.

Kenny is someone you used to like. You used to like him a month ago. God, you would’ve given a world to him, but nothing ever really came of you two. Talking stage, then nothing more. When you realized your feelings for Kyle a couple of weeks ago, everything changed. It’s like a switch inside you flipped, making you have zero attraction for him anymore.

Bitterness tainted your tongue with the question, and you rolled your eyes in reply—though, to your favor, he didn’t catch that. “There’s nothing between us, Kyle. He hasn’t asked me out, I haven’t asked him out either. It’s just a whole bunch of nothingness.”

“Really? Why don’t you take the risk?” He hummed.

“I’m not feeling it.” Liar. 

“That’s what you say about everything else, though.” He huffed.

“Yeah? Well, if something happens, then it happens. I’m taking things my own way.” You yawned. “Besides, you’ve never even got in a relationship with anyone before. No offense, but I don’t think you’re the first person I’m running to for advice.”

“I see your point, but I also have common sense. Something you lack sometimes.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You said, finishing off the rest of your drink. “If something happens, let’s just see what goes.”

“Alright.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

A day later, it was the end of class, and you were by your locker with Kyle, fixing your things. You two were in the middle of making plans for what to do after his practice.

“Do you think it’s okay if I skip practice later? I don’t think I’m in the mood to watch you guys.” You hummed, placing some books in your locker before you shut it close.

“Yeah, no stress. I mean, it is my practice. You don’t have to treat it as a bonding activity for us. I just wanted to spend some time with you between breaks, you know?”

“I understand. I really enjoy spending break time with you as well. Even if they’re a bit too short for my liking.”

“Me too.” He sighed.

“Maybe I will stay and watch. Let’s see.” You hummed.

“YN,” a familiar voice caught your attention from behind. It was Kenny. “I, uh, have something to ask you. Can I borrow you for a sec?”

You turned your attention to Kyle for a second. You were pretty sure you two knew where this was going. He teasingly raised his brows twice, mouthing a subtle ‘Get it, girl!’ with a supportive smile to you.

You shifted your focus back to Kenny. “Sure, definitely.” You nodded as he giddily pulled you to the back of the school, where no students were.

Kenny seemed awfully nervous like he knew that you knew what he was about to say. If that was the case, he was right. You hope he had already prepared for rejection as well.

“So, what’s the thing you wanted to ask me?” You feigned naivety, rocking back and forth on your heels. 

“Well, I,” he paused, carefully picking out his words. “I think you’re amazing, and I wanna ask you out on a date.” He coyly muttered, pulling out a small flower he probably got from the garden and handing it to you.

“Kenny…” You cooed, happily picking the flower and tucking it by your ear. Now you felt really bad about what you’re about to do. “You’re really wonderful, but I don’t like you that way. At least not anymore. I’m sorry.”

“You liked me before?” He quirked a brow.

“Yeah, but that was a few weeks ago. Sorry…” You sighed.

“That’s okay.” He smiled. “I do have one question for you, though.” His smile slowly became one of slight worry, almost a frown, actually.

“Yeah? What is it?” 

“You like someone else, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You said, stretching out the ‘s’ at the end. You feel you already knew his next question as well.

“Is it Kyle?”

“...Yeah,” you answered hesitantly. “I don’t think I’m telling him, though. I don’t wanna risk what we already have.”

“YN?” Kenny called. You hummed in reply. “Do it.”

“Why should I?” You raised your brow.

“I’m pretty sure he likes you too. I mean, everyone kind of suspects that at least one of you like the other.”

“Really?” You grinned at the thought of everyone perceiving you two together. He nodded in reply, to which you opened your arms out for him to hug. “Thank you. I have nothing to give you but this. I feel like you need it.” You said, letting out a small laugh.

He nodded and hugged you tight. “Thank you, YN. I’m grateful.” 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

After a few more moments with Kenny, you finally bid your goodbyes, and you headed back to your locker since you had forgotten your notes for pre-calculus there.

Were you really going to confess to Kyle? Well, with the support of Kenny, you really wanted to now. Maybe you should wait a bit first. You’re probably not ready yet. To your surprise, Kyle was leaning on your locker, scrolling to your phone. You weren’t outside for long, sure, but you thought he’d just show up early at practice like usual.

“Kyle?” You called out.

“There you are.” He smiled, tucking his phone in his pocket as he made eye contact with you. “So, how’d it go? When and where are you two going?”

“Oh, about that,” you sighed, chuckling awkwardly. “I rejected him. So there’s no ‘when and where’ at all.”

“What? But I thought you really liked the guy!” He said, confusion lining his face.

“I mean, I did! But I…” You paused, double thinking your next few words.

“But what?”

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Were you really about to do this? “I just never imagined being with anyone else but you.” Yeah, you were.

He paused, processing if what he heard was right. Unfortunately or not for him, you stared him down with a straight face. “YN, don’t joke with me like that.”

“I’m not! I’m being serious.”

“You like me? Like, literally, me?”

“Yes, you!”

“For how long?”

“I realized just recently, but I think I’ve liked you ever since we were kids. I never realized how obvious it was as well. I’m surprised you’re shocked about it 'cause you’ve always known me better than myself.”

“Kiss me.”

You jumped at his words, shifting your stance. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” 

You hesitantly brought yourself closer to him, your lips hovering over his. You closer your eyes, unable to look at him and bring yourself to it anymore. You supposed he realized just that because he had leaned in and closed the gap for the benefit of the two of you.