#it's been an honour to be by your side and to call myself your best friend - you truly are one of the kindest and loveliest ppl ik

[sc0tters]

Always His | Jack Hughes

summary: you were always meant to be jack's even if he didn't deserve it.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, swearing, slight degradation, p in v, oral (m receiving, hints to f too), mentions of alcohol.

word count: 6.47k

authors note: this was literally all written today so sorry if it is rushed but I wanted it out before the game (yes we manifested a bit in it) but this is too feed all of the girlies who needed it after the jack content that has come with the stadium series. to the anon who wanted jack and lukes best friend I hope you like this! our honourable mentions today though are @babydollmarauders for picking this plot (cause I'm indecisive) so lets than her for this one coming when it did!

You knew it was stupid coming to New Jersey this weekend. 

Jack hadn’t stopped arguing with you since you arrived and Luke thought that he had woken up in some fever dream where his best friend and brother were at odds. You had been around the Hughes family for the last twelve years so it was no surprise that you and Luke grew so close. Being at Umich too it only then on solidified that friendship and everyone swore you were bound to be his one day. 

But what they didn’t know was how complicated your past was with Jack. He was always the hot older brother that probably put up with you for the sakes of Luke. So last year when you were at the lake house soaking up the much needed vitamin D, you seemed to finally break Jack. 

Not in the sense of emotionally, but you went from being Luke’s best friend to Luke’s hot best friend almost over night. No longer was Jack stopping Trevor’s little flirty comments to you because they were weird, now he wanted to be the one to say them instead. Yet Jack managed to keep his lips shut all the way until your final night at the lake house. 

Almost everyone was asleep in the house as the clocks struck 3:19 which meant that nobody noticed when you and Jack were down by the pool table “you are gonna get me in trouble Blossom.” Jack had called you that for years after a Halloween party where you and two of your friends ended up as the power puff girls. 

It made you smile as you looked up to see him staring “not doing anything wrong Jacky.” You pointed out as you shook your head “you sure about that doll?” He asked letting out a gasp as your ass went into the air as you potted the ball. 

A smirk formed on your lips as you stood up straight “pretty sure.” You watched him take two big steps across the table and before he knew it he was right by your side “think you need to change your answer.” He clicked his tongue when his hands clung to your hips. 

The power dynamic had switched as Jack had you swearing you were dreaming “you shouldn’t-” you warned as his lips hovered over yours letting any bit of self restraint leave your body.

Jack scanned your face as he looked for any kind of actual discomfort “tell me you want me to go upstairs without you.” He was amused as he knew he was pushing your buttons in just the right ways. 

As your silence made him think that he had gone too far so as he began to pull away it seemed to trigger your mind. Your hands were quick to cup his cheeks bringing his lips onto yours. 

Whilst your tongues fought in this needy battle Jack didn’t hesitate to push you onto the pool table letting his hands fiddle with the waistband of your shorts “Jack.” You moaned feeling his teeth graze over your lower lip. 

His pupils were blown as they stared directly at yours “I got you Bloss.” The hockey player mumbled as left a trail of hungry kisses down your jaw. 

Your legs swing as they hang over the edge of the table “if you aren’t gonna continue then I need you to stop.” You announced feeling yourself get hot under his touch “because I won’t be able to stop myself if you don’t.” Your breath hit the shell of his ear making him grunt. 

Jack used little strength to pick you up as your legs locked around his waist “I want you tonight, all of you.” He mumbled kissing your lips again before he walked you both upstairs.

That night caused a fire to roar in your chest as the memories of his hands on your skin plagued your brain. But what you could never seem to shake was the way that he had left you to wake up the next morning all alone. The little evidence that he had been in your room was gone as his T-shirt that had been in your pile of clothes disappeared.

To say you were hurt was an understatement yet the final blow to your heart was that Jack hadn’t just left your room, he left the house. The middle Hughes boy made sure that he was  out all day only coming home once he was sure you were at the airport. What made it all that much worse was that he wouldn’t even respond to your messages. 

So after a week of trying to get answers from the boy, you stopped caring. You hated how much you had to care about it. Nights were spent avoiding your friends and their nights out as you stayed in your dorm to watch the devils play. You tried so hard to hate him but you couldn’t, and that’s how your friends ended up pulling you out of your rut. 

It wasn’t pretty to put it lightly. You were a mess and needed a change which your friends were sure to give you. Jack watched from afar as things began to change. It started with your hair and then before he knew it you were in these tight outfits that had were flashed around your Instagram as you grew closer to the male athletes on campus. 

As much as, he wanted to be jealous Jack knew he had brought it on himself. Luke was confused as he watched you step away from him, avoiding all in person contact when you knew that Jack would be there too. 

That only worked for so long though as February finally came around and you were left out of excuses to send Luke as to why you were avoiding him. That’s how you landed up on the flight to New Jersey. Of course Jack had no clue you were coming as neither you nor Luke went to offer the boy the courtesy of telling him. 

Luke didn’t hesitate to pick you up the moment you were in arms reach of him “Lukey!” You squealed as you were thrown over his shoulder “put me down!” You groaned feeling him almost lose his grip on your legs. 

He laughed as he placed you back on the ground “gosh I’ve missed you so much.” Luke mumbled as he pulled you into a hug “too much.” It was the classic bone crushing hug that he loved to give you. 

The boy was quick to let you go as he smiled “you’re gonna love the boys.” Luke squeezed your hand as he dragged you through the airport not giving you a chance to respond. 

Nerves began to crawl through your body as you found yourself regretting leaving Michigan as you got to the door of the apartment. Jack’s laughter could be heard from inside and you tried your best to act as if it wasn’t terrifying you “you okay?” Luke’s voice was barely a whisper as he saw how your eyes were wide.

You could try to lie to him. You could have tried to say that you were tired or ready to see his family. But Luke knew you like the back of his hand and he would have seen through your lies “just thinking about this weekend.” You were thinking about seeing Jack again but thankfully Luke brought it. 

He squeezed your hand once more before he unlocked the door “you took forever!” Jack complained as he dropped his phone into the couch as he locked eyes with you “Bloss.” His eyes grew wide as you tucked your hair behind your ear. 

Luke lugged your suitcase into the apartment “hey Jack.” You chewed at the inside of your cheek as all of the emotions that you felt the day he left you come rushing back to you “why are you two being weird?” Luke had watched you both grow comfortable with each other over the summer so now as you stood in tension laced air it was suffice to say that the youngest Hughes noticed. 

Jack sat up as he shook his head “just didn’t expect to see her here.” The center wanted to pay little mind to the fact that the last time he saw you, the sun ran through your half drawn curtains and hit your sleeping face to make you look beautiful “think mom said she wanted to talk to you though.” Jack lied handing the youngest Hughes boy his boy before he grabbed you by your arm.

It made a level of panic set through your body “I’ll show you around though.” His tone had him clearly irritated as pulled you into the kitchen “what the fuck are you doing here!” Jack whisper yelled pushing you against the counter top as he sent you a glare.

Your palms grow sweaty as your brain disconnected itself from the rest of your mind “didn’t realise that I fucked you dumb.” He spat as your silence only seemed to piss him off more than “Luke invited me.” You explained crossing your arms as you sent him a scowl.

You watched him process your response as he rolled his eyes “and you decided to come to this of all things?” You knew Jack could be cruel but you had never seen it in person before “Luke started to think that I was mad at him.” You shrugged him off knowing that the answer was more than likely not what he wanted to hear.

As his laugh echoed in your ears you were proved right as you found yourself growing more embarrassed by the second “you start worrying about your friend?” His taunts came as a never ending attack “yes Jack because I’m not a total ass like you.” You spat quickly coming to terms with the fact that the night you spent with Jack was only ever going to be a mere memory.

The boy ran his fingers through his hair as he let out a groan of frustration “just stay out of my way this weekend?” You were unsure if he was asking or telling you to do that but as you saw heard Luke hang up on the call with Ellen, you didn’t want to wait around with Jack “don’t have to tell me twice.” You grumbled pushing past the hockey player as you hit his shoulder on the way out.

At the family skate session came along Jack had to watch you make good on your side of the agreement. Every guy but Jack were privy to your attention but it seemed that as you struggled to skate in a straight line Nico found his place next to you. The interactions were nothing beyond innocent as Nico wanted to know why this was his first time the team was meeting the girl that Luke wouldn’t shut up about. The questions then had to turn to the fact that that Jack had stopped skating as he was now staring daggers at his teammate “should I be worried that Jack is looking at me like that?” Nico’s voice was barely above a whisper as he whispered that into your ear.

You turned to see Jack until he locked eyes with you which made him quickly turn away from you both “Jack is just Jack sometimes I guess?” You let out an awkward laugh “thought it would have been Luke who would have had us all banned from talking to you.” Nico didn’t think much more of it and you were grateful for that as he was quick to pull your attention to Luke in the middle of a media session.

Thankfully for you that was the most you really saw Jack as he made sure to avoid you, the only interactions you ended up having were when he came into the kitchen for his morning coffee and you were still half asleep on the couch. It wasn’t a reality you enjoyed but you assumed that it was the universe’s way of sending you a bit of karma for sleeping with your best friend’s brother. And you stupidly thought that you would be able to get through the entirety of the weekend avoiding Jack, yet Saturday night brought a different story.

The team went out to celebrate the win with their family and friends but you ended up wanting your bed - or in this case your couch - as you wanted to make little effort in trying to communicate with Jack “you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” Luke honestly wanted to spend his time with you and he didn’t mind if that meant leaving the team “no Lu, you go have your fun.” You squeezed his shoulder as you shook your head.

Ellen and Jim were stood waiting for you both as Jack was nowhere in sight “I can get an uber back to yours if you give me your keys.” You held your hand out ready to get your way “I’ll take her home.” The offer made you freeze as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

You didn’t even want to turn around as you knew he was looking at you “glad to see you can still be nice Jack.” Ellen teased as she hinted to the fact that she knew something was going on between you both as neither one of you could offer anything more than a glare to the other “you know me.” Jack placed his hand on your back as you chewed at your cheek knowing that Luke was studying your reactions.

He sent you a final look before he kissed your head “I’ll see you when I get home okay?” Fearing what you might let slip from your lips you nodded sending Luke your best smile “have good night you two.” Jim wrapped his arm Ellen before the trio walked off.

The moment they were out of earshot you began to walk off “where do you think that you’re going?” Jack asked as he crossed his arms “home.” You yelled back not daring to turn around.

Jack couldn’t help but roll his eyes “the car is this way.” He pointed to behind himself as it finally made you turn around “I am walking.” You quipped back making his eyes go wide as he took the short few strides to get back to you.

His grip around your wrist was sore “like hell you are.” Jack wanted to kill you for being so stupid. New Jersey at night in the cold was dangerous for anyone, especially for a girl who didn’t know the state. It made you grow angry as he acted like he cared “this is me staying out of your way so why do you care?” You let your brows form a fine line as you glared at him “look if I drive you home we can talk about it there.” Jack let out a groan as he didn’t think that you would be putting up a fight with him for this. 

Your mind swayed back and forth as you knew that Luke would want you home safe “fine.” You sighed as you raked your fingers through your hair “gad to see you can still use that brain of yours.” Jack mumbled as he was honestly relieved that he didn’t have to carry you back to his car.

The ride was probably the most awkward thing you had ever been through. Your eyes were locked to your window as you refused to look in Jack’s direction. He was also irritated as he gripped the steering wheel, Jack played the moments from the lake house over in his head.

It was barely 6:00 when Jack woke up, the foreign aspects of the room around him reminded Jack of the events from a few hours ago. Soft breaths left your lips as you snuggled into your pillow “why’d you have to go ahead and be Luke’s best friend.” Jack sighed as he stared at your sleeping state “could have made my life so much easier if you didn’t break his tooth.” You and Luke became the best of friends after you both ended up laughing once Luke got a softball to the mouth when he offered to help you practice for the upcoming season. Jack always did envy his brother for getting you and he buried those emotions through acting like you were irritating.

Quinn’s voice echoed through the hall as he was on the phone to Olivia who was in Europe awaiting her boyfriend’s arrival “thanks for the night Blossom.” Jack kissed your forehead, careful not to wake you up as you began to stir in your sleep. The middle Hughes boy did his best to ignore the way that guilt consumed his mind. With one quick movement he took his clothes off of your floor as he sent you one final look before he snuck out of your room. 

He felt like he was in the middle of a back and forth with himself as he sighed; this wasn’t something he could do again because as much as you might have been good for him, Jack knew he wasn’t good for you. And that was enough for him to make sure you didn’t have a reason to argue with him, it’s the very reason he made sure he wasn’t home when you woke up.

As you let the apartment door slam shut behind you Jack was pulled away from the memory, as happy or sad as it might have been. You headed straight to the kitchen “don’t walk away from me!” Jack dropped his keys in the bowl by his table as he scoffed “you did it to me first.” You were quick to quip back as the words rolled off of your tongue.

It made Jack scoff “that’s not fair.” He shook his head following you into the room as he was now ready to open the can of worms that you were angling to “you want me to tell you what isn’t fucking fair Jack?” You took a step closer to him as you swore that his words were cruel.

You felt tears form in your eyes even as you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that “having to wake up alone and get treated like the biggest mistake of your life.” Your voice broke by the end of your words as you didn’t think you would have the power within yourself to hold it together “so you don’t get to stand here and act like I’m being some brat for no fucking reason.” You spat as you went to leave yet you were pulled back by his hand around yours. 

Jack cleared his throat as he sighed “I did it to protect you and Luke!” It was no secret that Luke would have been heart broken if he knew that there was something going on with you and one of his brothers, that was a line you were never allowed to cross unscathed. 

Yet his words didn’t bring you the comfort he would have hoped for as it made you roll your eyes“don’t roll your eyes at me.” Jack scowled closing the gap to nothing between you both “or what?” You grumbled still agitated as you were left wanting to slap him. 

The middle Hughes boy clicked his tongue “I’m not against fucking this bratty attitude out of you.” He warned making you scoff “what about protecting Luke?” You weren’t against using his words from just a few second ago against him as they ran off your tongue. 

Jack laughed as he ran his fingers through the ends of your hair “seems like he can handle sharing you so well already.” His voice was laced with envy as he remembered watching you hold onto Nicos arm for dear life and Luke didn’t even bat an eye at it. 

You knew it was truly wrong to admit but you were now feeling flustered “so this is all cause you couldn’t handle me getting a little male attention?” You cocked your head as you fiddled with the ends of your sleeves “you got a lot more than a little.” Jack’s voice was barely above a mumble. 

Your eyes locked onto his as a smirk formed on your lips “not from anyone that mattered.” It seemed to be the line that got to Jack as he brought his hands to your cheeks as he kissed you. 

It wasn’t like the lake house when it was full of lust, this time it seemed that frustration drove that kiss. Milliseconds went by until you had your hands under his shirt trailing up his skin as if this was clockwork in your brains. He let his hand move to the nape of your neck afraid he might lose you if he didn’t hold you. A moan left your lips as his other hand squeezed your ass letting him slide his tongue into your mouth. 

He truly never thought he would be the kind of guy who could find himself obsessed with how sweet someone could be. No longer did you have the taste of the cheap beer that Trevor bought on your tongue and now you were like an addictive substance to Jack ��fuck you’re such a pretty fucking girl.” He groaned pulling his lips away from yours as he picked you up letting the actions mirror those of the night at the lake house. 

A squeal left your lips as you steadied yourself on him with your arms around his neck “shame you had to not be in my jersey though.” The hockey player mumbled as he pecked your lips taking the short walk to his room with you in his arms. 

The moment you two walked in there you let your foot shut the door as you didn’t want to break the kiss “you get me in your jersey when you don’t act like a child.” You announced remembering the fact that Jack had been watching you in all of Luke’s merchandise and clothing all weekend. 

You were unsure if what you said was right when he practically threw you to his bed “was gonna treat you like a princess tonight but it seems like all you wanna do is keep on acting like a brat.” Jack sighed as he pulled his coat off of his shoulders “and we all know that brats don’t get rewarded.” He leaned down letting his mouth ghost your ear. 

Your gasps went straight to his cock as it grew hard against his jeans “then why am I here for you?” It was a blow that made him tug his fingers in the roots of your hair “god are you always this fucking talkative?” Jack spat as he rolled his eyes “really think I need to shut you up.” He mumbled to himself hating how you pushed his buttons and that he actually enjoyed it too. 

His nimble fingers undid his pants letting them drop to his knees as Jack let his hand wrap around his aching cock whilst he pumped it a few times “you remember our safe word?” The hockey player wasn’t a monster and make sure you had a word you could use if he pushed you too far “Ace.” You nodded feeling your mouth water at the sight of his precum oozing out of his swollen head. 

Jack watched you take some kind of initiative as you moved your hips closer to the edge of his bed only stopping when his cock was merely centimeters away from your face “you look so pretty down there.” The compliment made you squirm as your tongue began to do these kitten licks to his cock peppering kisses on the swollen tip “c’mon Bloss you know how to use your mouth properly so don’t start with this shit.” Jack warned as he reminded you about the last time that you had sucked him off.

That was all it took for you to force your lips around his cock beginning to take as much of him as you could “that wasn’t so hard now was it my sweet girl?” He spoke through gritted teeth as you began to settle on a steady rhythm with your hands going flat against his thighs “let me see your pretty face as you suck my cock f’me.” Jack cooed running his fingers through your hair as he made a makeshift ponytail up as his hands helped you take more of him.

Your tongue swirled around his cock as you looked up at him through your batted eyelashes “tried playing nice and like a good big brother when I could have had all this.” Jack grumbled letting his grip around your head tighten as he grew annoyed “cause you just know you’re my little slut ain’t ya Blossom?” Your thighs came together to suppress the desire that came through your mind as you hollowed out your cheeks.

Even if you had only slept with him once before this you knew how to get Jack to the point of no return and that was through turning your mouth into a vacuum of sorts “god you’re so fucking good at this.” Jack groaned as he shook his head as his eyes screwed shut “just like that and then I’ll fuck you real good.” The offer didn’t go missed even as you opened your throat to take more of him.

It was that gesture that sent him over the edge as his body began to shake “you gonna let me make a mess in that pretty little mouth of yours?” He asked surprising himself that the question even came out of his lips. All you could do was nod in response as the sounds of you gagging around him and the warm feeling of your mouth practically sucking him like a straw were enough to push Jack over the edge “right there f-uck!” The hockey player kept your lips wrapped around him for a few more seconds forcing you to breathe through your nose as he began to get control over his breathing again.

Your mouth felt warm as his cock slid out of your mouth leaving your jaw sore “lemme see you swallow that f’me doll.” He mumbled softly placing his hand around your throat so that he could feel you swallow before you stuck your tongue out. Jack watched in awe as a string of spit left his lips and landed on your tongue as you brought it back into your mouth pressing your lips shut “good girl.” He good bending down to peck your lips.

He was reminded on the 43 jersey you were in and that brought a scowl to his lips “think it’s about time I get you out of this.” He added as he shook his head still cringing at the fact that you were in someone else’s jersey “you jealous or something Jacky?” You teased as his fingers ran over the waistline making you lift your arms up.

Jack scoffed as he rolled his eyes “ya cause I’m gonna be jealous of someone else when it’s me who get’s to fuck you at the end of the night?” The hockey player could have laughed at the absurdity behind your words “I could have any man that I wanted.” Even you were unsure of your words as you were left in your bra.

It made him smirk as he crouched to be eye level with you once more “you could have anyone.” He nodded as he took in the sight of the lacey bra against your skin “but you choose to fuck me each time it seems.” You didn’t know how he did it, Jack could take your insults to him and fully flip them on It’s head.

The hockey player ran his finger up your chest from the valley between your breast “don’t go getting in your head now Blossom.” He pleaded as he hooked his fingers under your chin as he forced you to look at him “you gonna let me make you feel good tonight doll?” It seemed that his pet names for you were in full use tonight as if he feared that he would never get the chance to use them on you ever again.

Yet it was so much more complicated than that as you nodded “make me feel special Jacky.” You begged as your voice got caught in your throat “you are forever my special girl Blossom.” Jack mumbled as he stripped you out of your pants and undergarments leaving you fully nude whilst he still had his shirt on “this is mean Jack.” You complained making him smile.

He pressed his lips against yours as he his hands came down on either side of you “just like seeing how wet you get for me.” He confessed eating up the way you whimpered in response “don’t even think that I need to get you ready for me.” The boy confessed as you nodded before he leaned back up to pull the shirt off his body when he kicked his pants off “need your cock.” You begged feeling his fingers run up and down your slit spreading your wetness over your clit “when you ask me so nicely how could I say no?” The question was rhetorical as the sound of him ripping open the condom wrapper was like music to your ears.

Your legs on impulse came up as your heels pressed against your ass “look at you getting all ready f’me.” Jack cooed as he rolled the condom over hid hardening cock “been thinking about doing this all weekend.” He confessed as he ran the covered head over your slit and down your slit before he stopped it at your glistening hole. 

His eyes never left yours “yet you had to go act like-“ you were quickly cut off when Jack bottom you out leaving you both silent as your cunt stretched to hug his cock “I act like what?” Jack’s lips found your neck as he began to nip at the skin making you moan.

Jack gave you a few seconds to settle into it before he began moving again “like a fucking asshole.” You moaned bringing your hands up between your bodies as you went to tease your breasts “those are mine Bloss.” He shook his head “and since I’m such an asshole ‘m not gonna share.” It was a quick movement that had your legs over his shoulders as he arched his back allowing him to bring his lips to your nipple. 

The feeling made your eyes flutter as his cock hit parts of you that you truly didn’t think were possible “just like that Jack.” You whispered digging your shoulder blades into your bed as you moaned “why are you so quiet?” It was like he wasn’t okay with that as he rolled his eyes “got the whole fucking apartment to yourself so I wanna hear you tell Jersey who is fucking you like this.” Your cunt clenched around him as his words brought this new possessive sense over him.

It made Jack smirk as he brought his lips back up to yours “you enjoy it when I tell you you’re mine?” You weren’t sure if he actually meant it but those words from his lips made you feel like you were dreaming “so so much.” You nodded as he kissed your lips finally tasting his salty release on your tongue that made his cock throb all over again.

The chain that he was wearing from his pregame outfit was still on and it hit your chin as Jack began to quicken his thrusts “wanna make such a fucking mess in your cunt.” His hand softly slapped your thigh as you bit your lip “remember I wanna hear you or I stop.” His warning was all too serious for you as you felt your coil in your stomach begin to tighten. 

A flurry of moans and incoherent sounds left your lips as you panicked “you fuck me so good.” Was the only thing he understood before you let his chain get trapped between your lips “you getting close pretty girl?” Jack asked as he let his hand trail between your two sweaty bodies feeling your cunt practically suffocate his cock.

Your head bobbed as he took it as the chance to increase the pace of his thrusts only resulting in a cry that left your throat feeling raw when his fingers began rubbing at your clit “theres my sweet girl.” Jack cooed as the sound of skin slapping echoed in your ears “Jacky ‘m gonna come.” You announced as your legs began to shake trying to trap Jack in your grip. 

He shook his head “fucking hold it.” All Jack needed was a little more as he could feel himself not far behind you at all “please!” You begged not knowing how much more of this you could take as it felt like al of the air within your lungs had been taken from you.

His lips were rough against your jaw “told you to fucking hold it.” Jack spat clearly not interested in your complaints as your fingers tugged through his hair “fuck baby you are perfect.” He grunted as you tried to kiss him needing something to stop you from begging and pleading with him to make you come as you feared that you might then not come at all tonight.

You didn’t even stop to notice his words as they were shortly followed by “make a mess on my cock Bloss.” You didn’t need to be told twice and you felt your eyes roll back into your head as your cunt practically spasmed around his cock “fuck fuck shit!” You groaned letting your toes curl as tour body writhed against his.

Jack’s orgasm shortly followed yours as he tried his hardest to fuck you through yours “got you my girl.” He mumbled kissing your shoulder blade as he went to rest his head from a moment when his movements stifled. You both lay there for a few moments trying to catch your breath “holy shit.” Your chest heaved as he slid out of you making him laugh.

The sight of your release oozing out of your cunt made Jack feel warm inside “holy shit in deed.” He nodded in agreement pecking your lips before he got up “think you are up for a bath?” Aftercare did happen to be something that Jack was surprisingly good at but these were stops he only ever pulled for you.

You nodded as you sent him a soft smile “always.” As he picked you up and brought you into the bathroom it was no secret that you were close to falling asleep and Jack was honestly surprised you held out on shutting your eyes until you got dress and was tucked back into his bed where the warmth of his covers took over.

As you woke up with an arm still firmly gripped around your waist you couldn’t help but blink repeatedly gaining your bearings of this foreign room. A soft groan left your lips as you rolled over to see Jack smiling back at you “hey Bloss.” His words were soft as he ran his hand up your side. 

You sent him a dull smile as you yawned “think I need to get up.” You went to lean forward as the center stopped you “told Luke you went for a run.” Jack handed you back your phone as he didn’t want to lean over you again to continue charging it. 

The boy went to kiss your lips but you were only confused as you looked at him “you know my password?” You tried to remain calm as there were definitely a set of lingerie pictures that you did not want him to ever see. 

Your worries made him laugh “you’re gonna have to pick something a little bit harder than your birthday if you want to act shocked.” Jack teased making your cheeks turn red “you’re cute when you get all flustered.” He added delivering the compliment as though it was liquid gold. 

His fingers were rough against your jaw as he hooked them under your chin “what are we doing Jack?” You sighed pressing your hand against his chest as you feared not having the strength to say this to him tomorrow. 

He frowned as he looked at you “I was gonna kiss ya.” The hockey player pointed out in a duh tone “I mean this.” You motioned between the two of you as this was the second time you landed up in his bed in eight months. 

The boy sighed as it was clearly something he didn’t want to talk about “why does it have to be anything?” Jacks words struck you like a slap to the face “you said you liked me last night.” Amid all the arguing you still remembered his confession. 

Jack watched you sit up straight as you were met with his silence “let’s just keep things casual.” Jack meant what he said about being worried about hurting Luke and you were still in college and over an hour away by plane. He wouldn’t say this part to you but he was also scared of committing to you and having it stay that way. 

Your entire body cringed “so you can continue fucking every little puck bunny that lays her eyes on you?” It was a low blow but you were hurt “firstly I haven’t slept with anyone since the lake house.” He pointed his finger at you making you go quiet. 

He continued on “I wanna scream that you’re mine from the roof but now just isn’t the right time for us to get serious.” Jack knew how to make you turn to putty in his hands “you’re right.” You didn’t even know if you agreed with him.

But as he flipped you over leaving you on your back you couldn’t say no to him “of course I am.” Jack nodded letting his lips nip at your skin. 

It made a breath catch in your throat “now stop using your pretty little head and let me make you feel good.” He ordered pushing your shirt over your stomach “please Jack.” Your voice was airy as you felt him pull your legs apart letting him face your soaked cunt. 

You couldn’t help but wonder as you watched Jack lower his head, if he was truly stupid enough to think that you would wait for him.

But in reality, maybe it was that you craved his love enough to stay, so what would happen when a certain Wolverine began to play his cards right with you?

[periprose]

Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!

I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼

hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.

/

"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.

"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"

"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"

"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."

Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.

Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.

You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.

"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.

"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.

"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."

"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.

You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.

"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.

"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.

"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"

"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"

"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."

Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.

"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.

"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.

Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.

"Peter-?"

He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.

"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.

Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.

Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.

There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.

An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.

"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.

You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.

/

Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.

He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.

It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.

He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.

He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.

Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.

He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.

He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.

Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.

"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."

Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."

It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.

Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.

But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."

Peter would agree with that.

You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.

"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.

"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."

"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"

He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"

"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.

"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"

"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."

Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."

"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."

"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."

Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."

He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.

Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"

"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"

Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."

"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."

"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."

And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could you possibly write headcanons for a relationship with Mizu from The Blue Eyed Samurai? Hope all is well with you!

At first being in a relationship with Mizu was heavily strained for a multitude of reasons but the main one being that the people in Mizu’s life don’t tend to stay for the long run.

Which meant that Mizu was always putting a good deal of distance between the two of you as a way to prevent becoming overly attached to you, in the fear that you wouldn’t last as long either.

They acted like your second shadow with how close they stood near you, especially when in the company of unsavoury and shady individuals. A silent body guard that was about as still as a statue unless a move was made against you with ill intentions.

However thar never stopped Mizu from answering the call they had to protect you when needs be but by the time the threat was eliminated, it was back to pushing you away while keeping conversations you had to a minimum, all in hopes of deterring any and all hope you may have for a connection.

It’s not in a mean way but more so Mizu’s way of protecting you without integrating you into their mess, or be targeted by people who would love nothing more then to hit Mizu where it hurts.

It didn’t matter whether you were associated or not, you were still fair game for them to attempt other forms of capture.

Mizu wants the best for you and that isn’t sticking with them.

This often leads to arguments being had between the two of you because you felt as though Mizu was just trying to get out a relationship with you and doing things without your input on them, whilst Mizu believed you to be stubborn and not fully grasping the threat of being with them had on you and your well-being.

Anyway, enough of that angsty stuff.

Once Mizu gotten use to the fact that you weren’t going away anytime soon and rather serious in being by their side through thick and thin. They would slowly start to open up to you more by starting off small such as;

Shielding you from sight when someone becomes aggressive.

Making sure you don’t get injured and even if you did, no matter how large or small or maybe, Mizu would want to heal it themself and oversee your recovery process personally.

Sitting/ standing closer to you than before.

Or even Brushing off the snow from your clothes before it melts and soaks the clothing.

When Mizu gets even more comfortable within your relationship then they’ll start contemplating on how to enact physical contact but never knowing how. It had been a long while since they last allowed someone to hold their hand never less hold them but Mizu wasn’t quite sure you’d like that sort of affection.

So you’ll probably have to make the first step yourself by showing Mizu that you were more then okay with it by grabbing their hand, interlocking your pinkies together, holding on their arm or even straight up hugging the life out of them after a gruelling fight.

‘Thank god you’re okay.’ You cried into Mizu’s chest, breathing them in as much as you could as though the moment you let Mizu go, they’d disappear.

‘You know I’d always come back to you.’ Mizu told you as they reciprocated the hug despite how it pulled at their wounds but Mizu didn’t care, your health and well-being was something they hold in high regard.

‘I know that but I just can’t help my fear of the day I’ll loose you.’ You told them, pulling away from them a little bit and trying not to smile when Mizu instinctively tightened their grip on you. ‘But I also must remind myself that you’ve proven yourself capable enough to hold your own in a fight on multiple occasions.’ You pressed a tender kiss to Mizu’s cheek, chuckling when you saw their eyes widen at the innocent act.

For someone as powerful and amazing as Mizu, you pride yourself in how you were probably the only one that got to see this side of them. It was an honour to witness a moment that tasted as sweet as it looked.

Mizu meanwhile felt warm throughout their body, enjoying the feeling of you holding them as tightly as you were right now. Were they really this touch starved? Yes. Yes they were. Severely so.

They’d crumble internally during the more intimate moments where your both alone to your own devises. Run your fingertips gently across the scars on their shoulders or across their calloused hands and Mizu will be melting like butter. They felt safe within your hold, they felt as though the didn’t need to be on guard with you near and you felt protected and loved within Mizu’s hold, taking comfort in knowing that nothing could touch you with Mizu nearby.

You felt invincible either with Mizu and Mizu felt cherished. You both fill a void that neither of you thought could ever be filled.

Can and will punch Taigen for flirting with you. Mizu has done it before and isn’t afraid to do it again as extra.

[kitkatscabinet]

KINKTOBER 03 - Drugged

John Mactavish x f! Reader

Warnings: non-con, drugged reader, delulu Soap. This is fucked up. For @bunnyreaper <3

Your head was pounding, mouth full of cotton as you attempted to gain your bearings through squinted eyes. Any attempts to sit up are met with immediate and violent protest from your body. The world lurches and you practically fall in a boneless heap against the mattress.

In your brief struggle to orient yourself, the blanket covering what you realise is your naked body, had slipped down to your waist. Exposing bare skin covered in various bruises and bite marks.

Horror seized your body, bile filling your mouth as your still fuzzy mind caught onto the implications of what had happened. Tears filled your eyes, blurring your already fuzzy vision, as you desperately tried to recall what had happened.

Despite your best efforts you remember nothing but arriving at the small party that had been thrown in your honour. A recent promotion had come your way, something that required you to transfer bases, thus the joint celebratory/farewell party.

Had you really gotten so drunk that you’d fallen into bed with someone? Unfortunately, the door opens before you have time to properly gather your thoughts. Your visions still not the best but as the figure gets closer you manage to make out a few distinguishing features.

“Mactavish?” The hoarseness of your voice leaves you cringing a little. He’s close enough that you can see his brow furrow, bottom lip jutting out slightly in a pout.

“Thought I told ye to call me Johnny.” He sets what you now realise to be a glass of water and plate of some sort of breakfast down on the small wooden bed side table as her perched on the mattress. “How’re you feelin?” He raises a hand to gently cup your cheek, blue eyes gazing adoringly into yours.

To say you’re confused is an understatement. You and John Mactavish didn’t exactly run in the same circles, more than acquaintances but certainly less than friends. Even if his eyes did seem to intensely focus on you whenever he was near.

“What? What happened?” You manage to get out, just barely managing to prevent yourself from flinching at his touch. His frown deepens even further at your words, hand dropping from your cheek and your heart begins to pound.

“You don’t remember?” There’s a palpable hurt in his tone. Not good. Even in your unnaturally lethargic state, your instincts are screaming.

Bits and pieces had come back to you, but trying to remember felt like staring directly at the sun. Though you do remember leaving with Soap, his concerned blue eyes flashing in the forefront of your mind at your drunkenness. “I… everything’s a little blurry, remind me?”

“Ye had a bit too much to drink, I brought you home, sobered you up.” His words are clearly not the entire truth, the evidence of what he’d done painfully evident on your skin. He must realise what your silence met as he continued on with a smile as if there was nothing wrong.

“Wanted to wait till you were awake for our first time, but you were so gorgeous lying there, teasing me in yer sleep tha’ I couldna help myself.” He apologised, pressing loving kisses on the inside of your forearm.

You want to scream. Tears already sliding down your cheeks at the verbal confirmation of what you already knew.

Warm hands are instantly cupping your cheeks, attempting to wipe your tears before your face is peppered with kisses. There’s slight alarm in his tone as he says “don’t cry lass, hate to see your pretty face covered in tears that aren’t from pleasure. It’s ok.”

Suddenly the blanket, your only shield, is thrown away and John’s mass is on top of you. “If I’d known you’d be so upset about forgetting our first time then I’d have waited. Let me make it up to ya lass.” With that he’s dipped his head down to claim a nipple between his teeth.

You screech, uselessly weak arms attempting to shove his head away as your panic reaches an all time high. He simply huffs through his nose in amusement, and to your horror let’s out a satisfied groan as your nails scrape against his scalp.

He lifts his head abruptly to claim your lips in an open mouthed kiss. It’s an aggressive clash of teeth and spit as his tongue greedily darts into your mouth. He takes your moment of surprise to bury his already hard cock in your ill prepared pussy. His mouth swallowing your surprised shriek of slight pain as he pants in bliss.

He sets a brutal pace immediately, giving you no chance to adjust as his hips piston relentlessly. Soap only pulls away from your mouth to babble a string of expletives as he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder.

“S’fuckin perfect, so pliant and perfect for me, sucking me in where I belong” he grunts, hands gripping bruises into your hips. You’re powerless to do anything but take it, shaky arms scratching at his chest only eliciting a laugh.

To your horror, the pain doesn’t last, your body betraying your minds will as one hand snakes down to roughly press on your clit. His thumb moves in slow circles, greatly contrasting the increasing speed of his thrusts as he mouths at any available skin he can reach.

Involuntarily you moan, clenching down on him as the assault of pleasure becomes too much.

“There’s my good girl, doing so well f’me” Johnny's voice is a little strained, sweat dripping from his forehead onto your chest as his movements falter. “Need you to cum for me lass” he grunts, and before you can attempt to stop yourself, you do, eyes fluttering shut as you whine pathetically loud.

The feel of your tight walls clenching down on him even harder proves too much for Soap and the dismayed cry you let out at feeling his cum full you is overpowered by his groans.

The sound of the door opening has your eyes shooting open, a sliver of hope filling you as someone else steps in. John on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care about the intrusion, his hips continuing to move as he overstimulates the both of you.

As the figure steps closer you finally recognise Ghost, though all your hopes are cruelly snuffed out when he speaks. “Johnny you done? People will get suspicious soon.”

You didn’t think you could spiral into even more despair but Ghost’s words shatter you. Soap is decidedly very unhappy with the news, though mercifully he pulls away, letting your body rest.

Seeing the devastation on your face Soap frowned, leaning down to place a loving kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry bonnie, I’ll be back soon, and then we’ll discuss your attempt at leaving me.” With that he followed Ghost from the room, locking the door behind him and leaving you to your despair.

[underoospeterparker]

CONGRATS ON UR MILESTONE BABY!!! i’d like to request 🪸 CORALS !! with the idea of cowboy!james and innocent!reader in mind teeheeee <333

YAY babe thank you so much ily!!! challenged myself to use some slang hehehe

join the celebration

cowboy!james potter x innocent!fem!reader, 0.9k words, hurt/comfort, angsty

tw: (slight) violence, blood mention, toxic ex, swearing

James strolled over with the confidence of a man who'd already won his race. "How're you ladies doing tonight?" He asked you and your friends, leaning over to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"Well, bless your heart for asking," Mary Rose blushed, "we're fairin' just fine," she added, a huge smile on her face. James reciprocated it, but it wasn't as pleasant as hers had been.

When she turned around, you rolled your eyes and James chuckled, taking a seat next to you. "No need for jealousy, darlin', you know I'm all yours," he said, his voice deep and quiet. This time you were the one blushing, forced to hide your red face in the crook of his jacket.

It was a second later when you pulled away, and you noticed Mary Rose's glare from across the bench. James surveyed your eyes quickly, a touch of concern in his big brown eyes. "You alright there, sweetheart?"

You were quick to nod at him. Giving him your best smile, you asked, "when's that race of yours happening?"

He checked his watch on his wrist, then got up to stand. "Reckon it's about to start in a blink of an eye," he replied, grinning at you. "I'd be mighty honoured to have you by my side, darlin', will you come to cheer me on?"

Mary Rose was quick to speak up. "You bet your spurs we'll be there, cowboy!"

James looked at her with a small smile, then turned to you as she began getting her things ready. "I'll be front and centre," you reassured him, and his face brightened. "Wearin' my finest cowgirl hat," you added, giggling softly. "Now go show 'em how it's done."

Your boyfriend saluted you and head off to the races. "Yeehaw," Nellie squealed, tugging at your arm as you laughed along with her. "Let's mosey on down, ladies!"

While you climbed down the stands, hand-in-hand with Nellie, Mary Rose pulled you aside, her grip tight on your arm. "Don't think for a moment I didn't notice you cozying up with my ex. You better watch your back, partner!" Mary Rose's nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. She pulled away when Laura called her over, waving with a fake smile on her face.

You winced as you looked down at your arm, crescent moons left in her wake. You covered it up as best as you could, pulling your jacket on although it was mighty hot outside. Then, you returned to the race tracks to watch James ride.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round," the announcer clapped his hands excitedly, "we've got a lineup of fine cowboys ready to tear up that track. Among 'em, we got James Potter!" The crowd roared with enthusiasm as James made his way onto the track, a massive grin on his face. You waved happily at him when he blew a kiss to you good-naturedly.

Mary Rose turned around to look at you, glaring. "Say, (Y/N), I need to make a trip to the outhouse. Would you be so kind as to join me?"

You couldn't refuse, not with all of the girls surrounding you, so you nodded, even though James was about to ride. Mary Rose would have done much worse if you hadn't.

She gave you a smile, then pressed a heavy hand to your back, leading you to the bathroom. James, however, noticed your disappearance soon after, and swiftly mounted his horse. He quickly rose over to where the girls were stood. "Where might I find (Y/N), ma'am?" He asked Nellie pleasantly.

Nellie pointed over to the outhouse, and James nodded, saying, "much obliged, my friend."

He climbed over the fence, although the announcer was yelling at him to get back over and on his horse. James started to jog over to the bathroom, starting to get worried. "Shucks," he said under his breath, swinging the door open to find you cowering in a corner, a bruise blossoming across your face.

You managed to gain some confidence, however, and you struck a painful punch across Mary Rose's face, so hard that she stumbled backwards. "You bitch! I'm gonna-"

James stepped between the two of you. "Hold your horses," he said, his face hard. "I'd never lay a hand against a lady, but you raised a finger against my sweetheart. So I'd suggest you keep your distance."

With tears in her eyes, Mary Rose nodded and stepped out of the way. James turned to you, nothing but care and worry in his eyes as he surveyed the damage.

"James," you murmured softly, "any reason you're lingering 'round here instead of hittin' the track?"

He smiled, "I gotta take care of my girl, y'know? She's my top priority." James cupped your cheek, face softening when you grimaced in pain. "Shhh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he crooned over you, wrapping you up in his arms, "don't you worry. I'm gonna take good care of you." He paused, making sure you were listening. "And I ain't one to make empty promises, darlin'."

You smiled up at him. "No doubt in my mind, cowboy."

[kuroashims]

I can't help seeing zolu when I hear wedding vows, they describe their relationship almost perfectly... Replace husband by captain, partner or first mate, and you have pretty much everything they'd say to each other, if they were actually talking...

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

"I am proud to be yours and to join my life with yours. I vow to support you, inspire you, and love you always. For as long as we both shall live, I will be by your side for better or worse, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer. I pledge to honour you all the days of my life.

I love you with my whole heart with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in glances and years of adventure by your side.

I promise to be your honest, faithful, and trustworthy husband for the rest of my days.

Today I say, "I do" but to me that means, "I will." I will take your hand and stand by your side in the good and the bad. I dedicate myself to your happiness, success, and smile. I will love you forever.

I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, a warming comfort in the cold, and a shoulder to lean on when life is too much to bear on your own.

Give me your hand, and I will give you mine forever.

I vow to always protect you from harm, to stand with you against your troubles, and to look to you when I need protection.

Once I heard "There is no remedy for love but to love more". Today and forever, I will follow this advice and seek my remedy in your arms.

You make me laugh, you inspire me, and above all, you make me happy.

I promise to be your navigator, best friend, and companion. I promise to honor, love, and cherish you through all our adventures. Wherever we go, we'll go together.

I will love you in word and deed. I will laugh with you, cry with you, scream with you, grow with you, and craft with you. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I don't yet know, I give you my hand. I give you my soul. I give you myself, the good, the bad, and the yet to come. I trust you with my life.

You love me and complete me in ways I never knew possible. From this day forth, I promise to listen to you and learn from you, to support you and accept your support. I will celebrate your successes and mourn your losses as though they were my own.

How lucky am I to call you mine ? Your love and trust makes me a better person, each and every day. For all those times that we've been together, there's always been a mutual understanding that's only shared when two people cherish each other truly. You were there for my greatest challenges. You encouraged me to grow. You helped believe in myself and become the person that I am today. In your arms and by your side, I know I can do anything.

Yes, I am proud to call you my mine."

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

[ravensinthedaylight]

Ruby : Part One

hey! can i request a prentiss x daughter fic where reader gets kidnapped by an unsub (lots of angst) and emily is all mama bear to save her. can either end with angst or fluff. thanks!

Reader’s Age: 9 Years Old

Requests: Open

Summary: When Emily leaves for a case she leaves you with your godparents. They both decide to take you to the movies, but that night something terrible happens. The next day Emily Prentiss and the team sit, listening to the case file going over the facts of your godparents murder and your own kidnapping.

A/N: I’ve just watched the episode on the Romanian family and couldn’t help myself, considering I had seen this request just hours earlier.

You clung to your mother’s leg, your nose was buried in her pant leg, taking in her scent before she went away for what could be days, maybe even a week or two.

She had always told you that she wouldn’t be gone for too long, but it didn’t make a difference to you, she was still gone none the less and you missed her regardless.

You love your godparents, the Brenners, Angie & Mark, both of whom had been your mother’s friends for years, even before you were born, but you loved your mom a lot more. You just wanted to stay with her.

This seemed to be routine, every time Emily would go away it would be the exact same goodbye. Sometimes you would be with your grandparents, her aunts and uncles and other times it would be Angie and Mark.

You were still sitting on the ground, eyes tightly shut. Your mom didn’t try to move, instead she was bend slightly to you, stroking the back of your head.

You couldn’t see you godparents behind you, but you knew that they were there, waiting to close the door when Emily finally managed to coax you off her leg, you weren’t ready for that yet. You knew it would be a while before you saw her again. 

Something felt really off, you didn’t like it. This made you want to hold your mother’s leg tighter, she made everything better, safer even. Your mom kept all the bad guys away, she kept you safe.

“I’ll be back before you know it bubs, I’ll be back as soon as I can. And hey! Maybe I could bring you to see the rest of the team after. Would you like that? Hm?” 

You looked up at her with a look that made her heart breakl.

“I love you Mommy.” 

Your voice was soft and it cracked slightly at the end.

“Hey hey hey bubba, please don’t cry. I love you too, so so much.” 

Emily picked you up and held you to her side closely. “My best girl.” She murmured against your forehead.

After a minute she placed you on the ground once again and held your face in her hand. “Behave for Mark and Angie, sweet girl.”

“I always do.” You pouted.

Your mother booped your nose before kissing it. 

“I know, lovely girl.”

Just then you heard her phone ding, and you knew it was time for her to go.

“Hey, Y/N.” Called Angie. “Why don’t you say bye to your mom and come help me try a new cookie recipe that I’ve been working on, triple chocolate chip.”

Emily let out a gasp. “Triple chocolate chip! Wow Y/N that’s your favourite!”

You nodded and placed both your hands on her cheeks. “You gotta promise me that you’re gonna come back to me.”

Emily chuckled. “I always do, bubs.”

“I know but I still need to hear you say it, because it helps yknow.”

Emily kissed your cheek. “I promise that I’m gonna come back the second the case is done. Scout’s honour. And hey, I’ll even throw in something else. The second I pick you up I’ll take you to the arcade and we’re gonna stay there however long it takes us to get enough tickets for that giant giraffe.”

It was your turn to gasp. “Mommy! That’s gonna take up over half my room!”

“I’ll bring uncle Derek and uncle Spencer to help carry it then.”

“I don’t think Uncle Spence will be much of a help, Mommy.”

Emily laughed loudly. “Alright, You, Go have fun with Angie and Mark.” She kissed your forehead again. 

“I will!” You dashed up the pathway to the door of the Brenner’s house. “I love you Mommy!”

“I love you too, Baby. Have fun.” She called after you.

When you turned back around again, she was getting into the car. “Have a safe trip!”

She smiled at you and waved, getting the gears ready to pull out. 

You felt Mark’s hand on your shoulder. 

“She’ll be back in no time, Y/N. I’m even willing to bet that she’ll get back by tomorrow night. She’s always in a rush to get back to her favourite gal.” 

You smiled up at him.

“And me and Angie was thinking of going to see a movie at around five.”

You grinned. “The new spiderman one?!”

“Mhmm you know it.” Mark laughed. “But I really am in the mood for some cookies. You wanna help your godmother finish em off?”

“Yes please!”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The movie was great. You and your godparents all really enjoyed it, although you were beginning to think that you were more a fan of the movie while it was the popcorn and pepsi that did it for them, but either way you had a good time.

You were a little homesick, but you always were, so it was to be expected.

Angie let you stay up until 9.30 pm, which was half an hour over your usual bedtime. You and her had made amazing triple chocolate chip cookies, which was now only double chocolate chip due to yourself and Mark eating a good amount of them before any actually went into the dough.

You currently sat at the table eating said cookies, enjoying the milk that came along with it. 

You wondered if your mom was still up. She probably was, she always stayed up late with a cup of coffee in her hand reading some files with Sergio on her lap. Sergio wasn’t allowed in your room. Which wasn’t fair in your opinion.

“Y/N.”

You jumped.

“Woah sorry, kiddo. It’s just me.” Angie spoke softly.

You didn’t know why you had reacted that way, something just didn’t feel right about tonight, you felt like something bad was going to happen, the feeling was foreign to you. Maybe the sooner you got to sleep the sooner you would wake up and see that you were just overthinking or something along those lines.

“I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”

You nodded your head and took your godmother’s hand as she guided you up the staircase and into the spare bedroom.

“Somethings not right.” You whimpered.

“What do you mean, bug? You don’t feel well?”

“I-I don’t know. Everything just feels off. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like something bad’s gonna happen.”

Angie chuckled lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. Your mommy’s just fine.”

You weren’t talking about your mommy, you were talking about you, in that house. You weren’t afraid of Angie and Mark, but of the thought that something horrible was about to happen.

“But-”

“Night night, Y/N.” Angie cut across. You sighed softly before deciding to let it go.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” 

Your godmother reached into the cupboard under the nightstand and pulled out your to-go-bag that your mom had prepared, out of said bag she found your stuffed platypus, which you only ever sought out comfort in when your mom went on missions that she wouldn’t be home that night for. For that reason the stuffed animal gained the name ‘Mily,’ as it was somewhat of a substitute for your mom, given the name was “Emily’ but without the E.

“Goodnight, Bug. How about we make pancakes in the morning?”

You grinned and nodded. “Can we make some for Mommy, too?”

“Of course.” She smiled, and you returned the smile.

You barely realised how tired you were. You were asleep the second the light went off, not knowing that that would be the last time you would ever see Angie alive, and also your last proper night sleep that wouldn’t be plagued by horrific nightmares.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You felt a hand on your mouth before you even got a chance to open your eyes, which darted open straight away, you eyes were greeted by cold grey ones, a menacing glint in them.

Your scream was muffled by a man’s hand, that wasn’t Mark.

His hands were bloody, and so were his clothes, and to make matters worse the blood was now on your face too. But it wasn’t your blood, at least you didn’t think so. But you didn’t know who the hell it belonged to.

Ters sprung to your eyes as the man lifted you up into his arms, you were paralyzed in fear, but after a few seconds you started to kick and squirm.

“Sh sh shhhh, you’re alright.”

You sobbed in your kidnappers arms, what the hell was going on, this wasn’t a dream, it felt too real.

Your voice finally echoed throughout the house when your teeth sank into the man’s hand.

“PLEASE HELP M-”

“Behave or I’ll make you behave.” The man said a bit too calmly.

“MOMMY.”

“I said behave, dammit.” The window was opened now, you tried to scream again even though you knew it would be no use, nobody could hear you, there wasn’t any neighbours near the Brenner residence, the closest being about twenty yards away. The Brenners lived in the middle of the countryside.

“PLEASE I JUST WANT MY MOMMY!”

The man sighed darkly, heaving his leg out the widow. “I just killed your mommy, so be quiet for the love of god.” 

You froze, you couldn’t say anything now. He killed Emily. He killed your mommy, You didn’t understand. Why did he kill your mommy?

You were frozen, the next thing you knew was that he was carrying you across the lawn over towards a car you had never seen before.

“Did you get her, Dad?”

“Yeah, open up the trunk and tell your mother to start the car, we gotta get out of here quick before anyone finds the bodies.” Bodies? “I know we just killed em, but you never know how long it’ll take for people to find em these days, with all the gadgets and all, it was so much easier back in my day and- BE QUIET!”

You sobbed even louder. You wanted your mommy, who you were just informed was dead.

“Heavens sake, hand me my handkerchief, Adam. I can’t listen to much more of her whining.”

The trunk of the car was opened by the boy before he dashed off to the front left to retrieve what you knew would be what was demanded by your captor.

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered.

“You’re ok. You’ll learn. They always do.”

The handkerchief was stuffed into your mouth and even more tears threatened to fall.

“Sit tight.”

The door of the trunk slammed shut, leaving you in nothing but darkness.

You could hear people move around in the main part of the car. You could hear celebrations and praise, a woman's voice and the boys and most hauntingly you kidnapper’s. He sounded so normal, as if he hadn’t just kidnapped a kid.

You could still feel the blood that soaked your clothes. It disgusted you.

You tried to shift your legs but realised they were tied together, you repeated the same motion with your arms, but they too, were tied together.

The car started. You felt the urge to sob some more, but suppressed it because of the man in the front, afraid of what would happen if you annoyed him some more.

You just wanted your mommy. 

What the hell was going on.

to be continued...

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[fishnets-fingers]

Underneath the Stars

“So, accept defeat,” he urges.

“Fine. Tell me where the alpha centauri is,” she demands.

“What would my compensation be?”

“How about not making you walk the plank at dawn,” she scoffs.

 “You drive a hard bargain, Princess. I was thinking less along the lines of not drowning and more along the lines of this,” he mutters as his hands reach to cup her full cheeks. They are warm under his palms, even against the biting gust, his thumb moves to caress her pillowy lips, eyes flicking down to her mouth landing on the crescent birthmark by her chin.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n -  i wrote so much. so, i’ve decided to split it into two parts. i made a banner for forbidden hours and it took me a lot longer than anticipated but i think it tured out great. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 6.2k (not proofread) 

MASTERPOST | MASTERLIST

….

நீள்பயணம். Voyage. News had spread far and wide across the expanse of the empire about the Princess’ journey far East. Throngs of people gathered on the docks to bid farewell to her and scream out wishes of luck and fortune. It was a busy day, filled with fanfare from the subjects, priests blessing the vessel and ministers of court spewing out strategies whilst handing bundles of parchment of the meticulously crafted plans. 

A journey always stirred up feelings of unbridled joy, especially since the aim of this particular voyage is to draw up a treaty with Handuman - three small islands that lie smack in the middle of a crucial trade route between the Cholas and Burmese. A tiny island kingdom that was a thorn on Y/N’s side for the past year; with news of shipment from Burma being pillaged and sabotaged at sea constantly thwarting her plans of bringing components of machinery to assemble aiding with agriculture. She put together a counsel which oversaw striking a peaceful agreement that would mutually benefit both nations, a long drawn process of negotiations with a vacillating King that finally culminated to this day.

A day where she set sail on a three week journey to visit the islands, attend a ball hosted in her honour, and cap it off with signing the treaty. Needless to say the kingdom was ecstatic with the promise of the Princess Royal bringing more riches into the land. All of Y/N’s voyages to neighbouring kingdoms resulted in astounding successes, so people did have a shred of doubt that this one would go south. At the break of dawn, the majestic vessel was filled with her entourage - guards, a trade minister, the guard captain who was responsible for her safety, the sail crew, two of her handmaidens, and her lady-in-waiting, Shobhita.

Shobhita has been by Y/N’s side since they were partnered together for dance lessons fifteen years ago. As kids, Y/N took it upon herself to teach her how to conduct herself properly in court. Despite not liking the bossy Princess Royal, things took a turn for Shobhita when some children of nobility made fun of her lineage - going so far as to calling her ‘murky blood.’ She had light blue irises and hair the colour of sticky toffee - resembling her overseas mother, far different from what everyone else looked like and that made her an easy target. Though Y/N was not around for the name calling, she personally gave the other kids a stern talking, going so far as shoving one them and getting confined to her quarters by the Queen Mother. The two have been thick as thieves ever since. 

“Remember Y/N, you are representing our Dynasty from the second you dock there until you set sail,” the Queen Mother starts. 

“I know. I know, grandmum. Best behaviour and all,” Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“You know better than to roll your eyes at me?!?” The older woman narrows her eyes in warning. 

“Have I not conducted myself well on my trips so far?”

“I’m not saying that you haven’t, but be wary. I’ve heard nothing but vile things about the Prince of Handuman. I’ve seen to it that your guards have been doubled.”

“Is that why I’m going there alone without any advisors? You know I can take care of myself-“

“I know you can,” the Queen Mother interrupts her. “Keep an eye out on all our girls.” She whispers, taking her palm in her hands and gives it a warm squeeze, before walking towards the chief. 

When she gets a minute to herself, Y/N turns away from the enthusiastic crowd, gripping on to a wooden mast, she closes her eyes, picturing her garden. The patch of flowering shrub - right by her reading bench - which attracted the prettiest of blue butterflies. She feels the tightness in her shoulders ebb away, only to have it disrupted when she feels someone pull on her braid. She flicks her head around in annoyance to find her little brother sheepishly looking at her. 

“What do you want?”

“You’re sleeping standing up,” Karthi notes. 

“I was not. I was trying to relax,” she sighs. 

“I’m sure that the vast blue of the water is relaxing enough. Never knowing what’s under the thousands of leagues under the sea. Maybe there’s a giant fish with razor sharp teeth as long as the mountains waiting to capsize the boat. Shame, won’t even know it’s coming in the dark of the night with nothing but pitch black in the horizon-“

“Shut up, Karthi!”

“Calm down,” he throws his hands over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “You really think Dad is gonna let that happen to his favourite child. There’s no way this voyage was approved by him without contingencies for every single thing that could go wrong. He’s not gonna let the people’s Princess get lost at sea.”

“I appreciate you trying but it’s not helping. Why are you still here anyway? Didn’t Dad want you at the capital yesterday?”

“It can wait,” he shrugs it off. “I’m not going to leave without saying goodbye to my favourite sister.” He bends down to engulf his big sister in a hug. 

“I’m your only sister,” she chuckles, swatting him away. “In other words you hung around for morsels of attention from Shobhita.”

“Give me some credit!” He says feigning being wounded. “I brushed my hand against her arm,” he whispers, pointing to his left palm. 

Y/N shakes her head at the smirk that tugged at the corner of her little brother’s lips. They’ve had a crush on each other from when they were both old enough to understand what that meant. Being the daughter of a vassal king, who happened to be close friends with her father, it was agreed upon by the elders that Shobhita and Karthi were to wed. Though Shobhita was a Princess of a small hilly region in the dynasty, it was thought best by the parents to have her grow up in the palace and serve with Y/N as her lady-in-waiting to learn the ropes of handing the responsibilities that would fall on her shoulders once she married. 

Right as Y/N was going to say something witty, their attention was pulled to the commotion at the gangplank. When Y/N peers over she sees Harry hold up his royal seal to the guards before lugging up his things. 

“What’s he doing here?” Y/N asks her grandmother, but finds the Queen Mother cluelessly staring at her grandchildren. 

“Your majesties,” Harry bows, and wordlessly hands the Queen Mother’s guard the parchment before it’s passed to the old woman. 

His eyes flit over to Y/N with a small smile tugging but he finds her pointedly staring over his shoulder with a scowl. He frowns, did she forget our time at the docks? The last time he saw her was filled with fiery passionate kisses and sweet nothings. He didn’t expect the Princess Royal to throw herself at him in front of everyone but was he not warranted a polite smile. 

“It’s from your brother,” the Queen Mother tells the siblings. “Looks like Harry over here would also be travelling with you.”

“What? Why?” Y/N asks, dreading the thought of being locked in close quarters with the spy. 

“He wants Harry to accompany you and be added to oversee your guard detail along with the chief.”

“But that makes no sense, he’s hardly a guard,” she protests. 

“That’s quite true, Princess but I do know a thing or two about fighting. The Crown Prince wants you to be protected, that-“

“I do not require your protection, Mister Styles,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“The Crown Prince has spoken. His reasons are clear,” the Queen Mother tells Y/N firmly, handing her the parchment. “Harry Styles will be accompanying you.”

////

The texts spoke of the majestic wonders of the sea in all its boundless beauty, sailors talked about the vast bodies of water being their companion; the sea was glorified by almost everyone Y/N had met and even by herself - she’d allow herself to stand at the edge of the shoreline and daydream about what life on the other side of the water looked like. There was immeasurable poetry that was either written at sea or took place at sea, but what none of them talked about was what it did to your psyche. Four days of constantly bobbing about the tides, with nothing around but endless blue and a blanket of darkness at nightfall, not to mention the terrifying sounds that accompanied no visibility. She missed the feel of the earth beneath her feet, the smell of her freshly watered gardens, the buzz of bees, birdsong, the vivid colours of her flowers against the green.

She brushed them aside as champagne problems for the first two days but the confines of close quarters were slowly creeping up on her. It didn’t help that she was avoiding Harry on top of all this, so she’d holed herself up in her room with Shobhita working on a project for the gala that’s being thrown in her honour. That’s how she found herself standing at the stern, hands clasped firmly on the wooden banister, at an odd hour in the night. She had her eyes closed, not that it made much of a difference in pitch darkness as she felt the wind against her face. It was eerily quiet, yet noisy as the vessel zipped through the tides, and everytime she flicked her eyes open she would only stare into the vast expanse of the hazy abyss. An insidious fear crept in which made her bones tremble about the nightmarish creatures that would leap out from the water at any moment.

“Careful there, Princess, any more harder and you might splinter the wood,” Harry’s voice cuts through the silence, the teasing apparent in the undercurrent of his tone.

She blinks down at her the way her knuckles have gone pale from gripping onto the wood. Sighing she turns her head to the side, to catch a sweet smile painted on his face as he bows spitting out the formalities. 

“Mister Styles,” she acknowledges him halfheartedly, turning her attention back to the abyss.

“Trouble sleeping?” He enquires, stepping forward but the guard captain steps out from the shadow, directly in front of him, blocking his path. Harry throws his arms up, pausing. “I don’t mean any trouble, Captain.”

“You may not approach her royal highness,” he warns, the captain towers over Harry.

“It’s alright, Captain. He may step closer,” Y/N says.

“Princess, no man is allowed in your vicinity without a chaperone,” the Captain reminds her, and it doesn’t escape Y/N, the way he flexes his mammoth muscles to intimidate the spy. 

“He is no ordinary man, remember. The Crown Prince has instated him to oversee my guard detail,” she points out. “I think it is time he took over the watch. I have kept you up for three nights now, and it’s high time you get some sleep. You may retire to your cabin for the night, Captain.” She smiles, wordlessly thanking him for being diligent enough to follow her each night.

He nods, muttering something to Harry as he hands over his spear to him. He bids Y/N goodnight and disappears down to his cabin.

“Whew,” Harry breathes out in relief. “Thought I’d be tossed overboard. Thanks for the save.” He mutters, making his way to the banister, leaving a comfortable distance between the two in case the Captain decides to check in on him.

“Don’t go thanking your lucky stars yet, I can certainly see to it that it’s arranged,” she bites back at him.

“You’re angry with me,” he states, making her chuckle.

“Wonder what gave that away,” she mutters, directing an eye roll at him.

He ignores her retort and continues, “You’ve been avoiding me since the minute I came on board.”

“That’s two for two. Gee for a spy, you sure do have a knack for picking up on the fucking obvious,” she shakes her head. 

“I don’t understa-”

“Of course you don’t,” she huffs out a weak chuckle. “Apologies start with an I’m sorry.”

“Princess-” he starts, running his hand through his locks. “Y/N, I don’t understand why you’re cross with me. Is it because I’m sailing with you unannounced?”

“God, you’re thick,” she lets out a weak chuckle. “A storm hit the coast two days after you set sail to Lanka, Harry. I didn’t know for weeks if Karthi got the message on time!”

“I’m a good spy, am I not? When have I ever faltered in keeping to your word? Prince Karthi reached the Port Palace two weeks ago, according to your word, did he not?”

“That’s not the point, you idiot!” She turns to face him. “I did not hear from you! I did not know if you made it there. For three whole months! I didn’t know what to think.”

“Oh.” His face reddens as warmth spreads across his chest. He doesn’t understand why but he feels his face split into a wide grin as he replies, “I was doing my job and protocol states that - .”

“And you rode off to Vikram up north,” her tone was still accusatory.

“I had to, Y/N.”

“Why? Why did you have to get to him with such urgency? Was it Karthi’s orders? Why was it so important that you come with me all this way? Don’t give me all that poppycock about me needing extra security. My brother and I trust the captain with our lives. He’s overseen our protection since we were children.”

“Vikram’s mingled with the close friend of the Prince of Handuman. He’s foul, according to his best friend’s admission. He hits women and beds them without consent. He has complete disregard for matters of the court and he is well known for schmoozing -”

“Why does that even matter?” 

Harry lets out a frustrated groan, “Will you please just listen to me.” He continues when Y/N quietens down. “The royal astrologer had seen to it that your portraits were sent to all neighbouring kingdoms - under your father’s orders - for matrimony. Prince Vinay had come across it when you were liaising with them for the trade deal. He, um, publicly vowed to…”

“Vowed to what?” She implores when he trails off.

“I’m sorry for being crude but he said that he wanted to ‘tear off your clothes, pin you against his throne and thrust some obedience into you while the court watches.’” He takes in a long breath before he continues, “So you will be under his pinkie and he can boast that the great Chola Princess was another notch on his bedpost.”

Y/N’s face twists in disgust as she processes what Harry had just shared with her. “Vikram knows I can handle myself around such odious men. I have more protection during this trip than I ever had in my life. Why did he send you to supervise my security? You have no experience…”

“It was my idea actually. I asked him to sign that decree to let me join this company and this was the only way to not raise any eyebrows among our men. I know you can handle yourself around the Handuman Prince, but I would not forgive myself if something were to happen to you…” He pauses, eyes roaming around for any lurking shadows, what comes next is communicated in a murmur, “This could provide a perfect cover for a Chola spy to be digging around Handuman.”

“A cover for what?” Her eyebrows scrunch, mouth twisting down in displeasure of being kept in the dark.

“Too many ears around,” he reminds her. He interjects before she can protest, “You will be the first to know once I have evidence.”

They hear a heavy splash making the ship drag, and the two lurch forward at the sudden movement. Y/N gasps, grabbing hold of the bannister and tightening her grip as a strong hand wraps around her elbow and tries to pull her away. 

Things feel dissonant for her, there’s a ringing in her ears that’s managed to make all other sounds feel like it’s echoing from deep inside a well, she feels her body spasm as she struggles to draw in breaths, like her throat has something blocking the way. Her vision fades around the edges making her scrunch her eyes shut, but that only makes the successive shallow drum of her heart louder. She can feel the way the boat has a pull under her feet, like it was lugging around something heavy as it resists the sway of the vessel. She’s experienced unease before, but this time was different. This uneasiness was not fleeting. It was a type of fear. Fear oozes from the centre of her bones, slowly following its wake across everything it could consume inside her being. Paralysing to her anomalous senses. “I knew it,” she whispers. “Consumed by the waters, of course.”

If this was how she was going to perish, so be it.

“Princess,” his voice is distorted and faint but she picks it up. “Y/N.” It’s louder this time, floating closer. “We’re fine.” She feels his arms tightening around her frame. “Y/N, look at me.”

////

Harry does not understand what’s happening. Once second, he hears the men throw the anchor into the water and the next Y/N’s crumpled over the banister beside him. She looks to be in pain, her face ashen under the silver beam, he tries to tug her back - away from the edge but she’s bolted, hunching over the banister. He tries getting her attention, but can hear her mutter something about being engulfed by the water and it all makes sense to him. Why she was so hesitant to get on his boat when they were at the docks, how uncomfortable she was sitting opposite him, what made her hole up in her quarters all this time, the way she was gripping onto the banister earlier. The ocean petrified her. 

He understands why she was mad for not hearing from him sooner. He left right before a storm hit the coast, showering her in kisses and whispering sweet promises. Promises. Well, promise. He promised to be safe and he did keep up his word, and he left for the battle tents of the Crown Prince, like he normally would when his job was done. But things were not normal. They’d kissed. Several times in fact. And he’d confessed his fondness for her.

He never faltered in his duties, he’d kept them up this time too. He had not realised a duty had implicitly fallen in his shoulders to bear when their lips met. To let her know that he was safe and not taken by the treacherous waters of the stormy seas as she’d let herself imagine. She had been worried about him. He made her worry.

“We’re fine,” he reassures, moving closer to her, holding her close to him. 

It takes him a few tries but he gets her to look at him and a few more to convince her to let go of the banister. Her quivering lips and glassy eyes pierce his heart, but he manages to get her to slump to the floor beside him. It takes her a long while to stop trembling but he tightens her torso to his side, hoping to instill some warmth into her.

“We’re fine now,” he reassures, squeezing her hands. “The men tossed the anchor overboard. That is what made us jerk forward along with the ship. It takes a while for the anchor to latch onto the seabed. They’ve retired to their cabins for the night. It’s just that. It has happened everyday since we boarded the ship. It will keep happening until we reach home. We will sail again just before the break of dawn. Nothing is wrong with the ship. We are not in the way of any harm.” 

She nods as he continues, “I apologise for not letting you know that I had reached Lanka in one piece. I’m sorry for all the worry I have caused you. I never intended to. I promise to never make you fret again.”

“Okay,” she tells him in a quiet voice, closing her eyes, as she forces her shallow shuddering breath to regain its steadiness. 

He looks around once more, making sure that they’re truly alone, before focusing on her blinking back her watery eyes. “Why did you agree to the voyage in the first place?”

“King’s orders,” she tells him softly.

“You’re terrified of the ocean,Y/N ,” he reasons. 

“I have duties, Harry. I get to experience all the luxuries one can imagine, compared to all that-” she shrugs. “Champagne problems, I guess.”

Harry shakes his head, she says king like it wasn’t her father. He would never do something that he didn’t want to, no matter who’s orders. But it was important to the princess in front of him and there was no use trying to challenge that. This was her deal, and it only made sense that she saw it through - she owed her people that. Instead he picks a different route, one that would help him understand her better, “What’s got you this scared? I’ve never seen you like this before.” It’s true. She was the first Chola Princess to be trained in combat alongside her brothers - demanding her father that when it came to the worst, she wanted to defend her people. She did not want to be holed underground with other women of court or in a temple praying for victory. She was an excellent rider, often would compete in races and encouraged young girls to follow suit. 

“I do not wish to say,” she says hesitantly. She leans back and scoots away, her face slowly regaining composure.

“I don’t mean to pry, Princess. I grew up sailing the waters, I understand not wanting to recount a time -”

“It’s not that. I don’t have a harrowing story or anything.” She adds the next part quietly, “It is risible,” and her cheeks heat in response. Harry quickly notes the way she blushes, making him smile down at her in endearment.

“I promise not to laugh. Sailor’s honour,” he crosses over his heart.

Y/N lets out a peeling giggle in response, “You’re no sailor, Harry.”

“Yes, I am! Was practically born on a ship, Y/N.”

“You were born on a ship?” Y/N asks, sometimes it felt like he knew more about her than she did him. 

Harry shakes his head, “Was born in my mother’s cottage in North England.”

“Did you grow up there?”

He shakes his head again, this time quicker with a frown. “No. I grew up on my father’s ship. Back to what we were talking about; you can’t discredit me as a sailor.”

Y/N’s brows scrunch at the sudden pivot in the conversation, but she doesn’t press on further, opting to say, “I thought you were a spy.”

A warmth blossomed in Harry’s chest from the mocking undercurrent of her tone. He’s never had anyone volley a conversation with him, and it came easy with her. “I am more of a ‘Jack of all trades’ kind of person.”

“Ah, I see,” she chuckles, bringing her knees up to her chest and encircling her arms around it. “So a master of none?”

Harry laughs, a high pitched carefree one, “Better than a master of one.”

Companionate silence blankets around the two, Harry passes her his leather water flask - that was clasped to his belt - and she quickly drains it muttering a quiet thank you. Harry leans back on his elbows, looking up at the shimmering moon above, it’s lovely tonight, he thinks. He’s spent many nights in a bobbing vessel with nothing around but the moon as company but he doesn’t feel the familiar solitude tonight. There was no intolerable silence this particular night, just the tinkle of Y/N’s anklet and silent sighs that escapes her lungs. His gaze flits over to her cheek, smushed against her arm, her gaze is fixed on her fingers as they fiddle with the ornament. A simple gold rope with a small lotus motif made from three pink diamonds and an emerald, clasped around her ankle. 

Her foot. That’s what caught his attention, not the precious stones, but the curve of the arch of her bare feet. He wonders if it would tickle when he runs his lips over them, as he slowly nudged her knees apart, the fabric slipping away, the way her anklets would tinkle over his shoulders in sync with his head between her thighs. He shakes his head, rubbing his face, shifting to conceal his hardening cock and shoots her a polite smile.

“Not knowing,” Y/N says. “I do not like the deep waters because I have no idea what’s underneath.”

“No one does, Y/N,” he reminds her.

“I know. It is uncomfortable to not know. It feels like I am at its mercy, with the currents that can drag me under in a split second, if I’m not careful enough. It’s vast, and we have not explored these territories. I met with this woman that studies living creatures, and she believes that there is a high possibility of colossal squids and fishes deep down. There are old sailing accounts and drawings as proof. You have seen giant sharks and whales, have you not?”

Harry nods, as she continues fidgeting with her anklet. 

“Life began in the waters, Harry, and we hardly know a thing about it. We cannot survive diving the depths; we certainly cannot compete with the predators that we know of. Imagine being at mercy of something unknown. It is the biggest mystery known, quite possibly the worst because it takes up much of our planet and we cannot even begin to understand it. The ocean has had a longer time to evolve than us, and we know much of the sky than we do about what is below.” 

Y/N looks up at him, chin resting on her arm, as she waits for a response. She feels a pang of regret opening up to him when she is not met with anything. You expect him to comfort him just because you kissed a few times, a voice rings in her head followed by her grandmother’s lecture of having one’s cards close to your chest. No royal ever spoke of things that frightened them, she never did either. So, why did she think this was a good idea? Her maternal great - grandfather, a Chera king, was thrown into the castle moat filled with crocodiles by his subjects. He was vain and cruel to his people - granted that could have been the reason - but it had been prophesied that he would meet his end by the scaly reptilians, so he rewarded people to poach every last one of them and had them all in his moat. Ironically, he actively participated in furthering his prophecy while trying to avoid it. People would not have picked death by crocodiles if they never knew about his irrational fear. The kingdom was in shambles for many years until the birth of her mother, which enabled them to forge an alliance with the Cholas through matrimony.

 While the Princess was caught in her own dilemma, Harry had a similar one running through his mind. He wants to assure her how secure ships are. He wants to explain how when you’re in the middle of nowhere with dwindling supplies, you start to see and hear things that aren’t really there. He wants to tell her that worrying would do her no good, especially the things that were occupying her mind because they were simply out of her control. All of the things he’d come to learn from his father’s experiences and his own. She was right, they barely knew about the ocean, but it wasn’t something to lose sleep over. But he understands, Harry was also scared of the ocean as a child before he got used to it. This was Y/N’s first time, and fears aren’t supposed to be rational. It wasn’t far-fetched, she had her nose stuck in books for answers and was born into duties, which required she understood the workings of life. She prided herself for being a step ahead of people around her and to do that one needed control. But the moment didn’t call for revelations; she needed solace. 

He gives her a sympathetic smile before going on to say, “I was scared of the endless ocean as a child too, especially at night. You’re right, we don’t know much about the sea but we do know a lot about the sky.

“Look up for me, Princess,” he continues and they both take in the twinkling dots in the blanket of the night. 

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, beaming up at the gleaming moon. 

“It is. We’re so caught up by things around us, we often forget to look up. The sky's the one thing that will not change. The moon will wax and wane and the stars will stay right where they are, flickering, guiding us to shore. It helped to look up at the sky when I was scared or in trouble. To be reminded that in the grand scheme of things, my fears didn’t matter. For whatever reason, the cosmos flows through me and that would mean my existence is a marvel. Even for a speck - no bigger than a grain of sand on the beach - the sky has many wonders in store for me.”

She stays quiet, her eyes glassing over, blurring her vision. Harry quickly catches the stray tear from the corner of her eyes with the backs of his fingers. He coos, leaning over to brush his lips against her temple, “I apologise for saying something out of line, Y/N.”

“You're not out of line, Harry,” she hastily blinks back her tears. “It helps. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to-“

“I want to.”

Anyone else pondering their significance by looking out into the universe might end up feeling helpless, paralysed even, but she feels none of that. She was born into significance and her roles only cemented the burden of upholding the legacy of the Crown. So, letting herself feel like a mere speckle was liberating. 

////

The days that follow the same routine - the Princess holes herself up in her cabin during the day with Shobhita. Harry’s unsure what she was up to - and formulating any judgement from the box of fabric spools one of the handmaidens carted into her room, and the occasional laughs from behind the door - he’s happy she was occupied. It was hard to catch a glimpse of her when the sun was shining; there were guard’s stationed outside at all times and he did not want to tick off the guard captain.

The nights. That solely belongs to the two of them. She would come out of her cabin two hours before midnight to catch some fresh air to find him softly smiling at her. He'd readily stand, at the ship’s bow, with a spear in his hand by the intricately carved wooden swan figurehead. Y/N had ordered the guard captain to retire at night, since he’d been stationed by her cabin all day. When he’d resisted - uncomfortable that the Crown Prince had instated a young man with no prior expertise as head of security- she’d gently reminded him that it was best for Harry to learn what guarding actually entailed in the safe confines of their ship. They’d spend the nights in each other’s companionship, Y/N’s heart swelled with Harry’s stories. Particularly the one of him as a boy, where he was convinced that someone had left a giant bunny up the moon. She looked at him endeared as he pointed out the outline of the rabbit in the dark markings of the full moon. It soothed her, looking up at the heavens with someone made her confining thoughts about the ocean melt away.

This night was no different, the Princess pads to her usual spot to find a blanket spread out with two pillows. Her eyes fly to meet him and he gives her the same smile he did every night, bending down to light the two oil lamps, illuminating the jade of his eyes. “Your highness,” he bows, stepping away.

She nods, shooting him a surprised smirk as she curls up with her book. Harry eyes the old parchment she unfolds, a star catalogue, and he can’t help the chortle that escapes his lips.

“Stop it, Mr. Styles,” Y/N shoots him a warning look, not wanting to draw the attention of the crew.

“I apologise, majesty,” he murmurs, but Y/N notices the mocking smile that paints his lips.

She pointedly ignores him with a roll of her eyes, as she focuses her attention on Aryabhata’s text in front of her. Harry had challenged her last night, and she was determined not to lose.

The crew had dropped the anchor and had retired below deck a short while ago, and Harry could not help but admire the furrow in between her brows as she concentrated. Harry had spent the last few nights pointing out different constellations that Y/N simply could not fathom. Harry was amused that it bugged her so much that she couldn’t map out the stars in the night’s sky with ease. Her anklet falls on the blanket, and he’s sure that she had loosened the clasp from how much she fiddled with it while reading. She sighs, turning her attention back to the gold rope, fastening it in place, making sure to press down on the hook.

“Rijl al-Qinṭūrus”, she reads out loud in Arabic after a long while, flicking up to look at the sky. The star map had a figure of a centaur and all she had to do was find the brightest one right at the bottom. Her head cranes to find the brightest spot in the sky - the alpha centauri.

The only problem was, there were multiple bright specks and she lets out a defeated sigh, pushing her hair back, “Fuck this,” she mutters.

“Not very royal of you, Princess,” Harry’s teasing tone floats over, she finds him slumped over the bannister looking at her. 

“It is the brightest and biggest star to spot at night,” he reminds her.

She narrows her eyes at him, looking back at the star catalogue again, and slumps back in defeat. “There’s something wrong with this star catalogue,” she declares. “There has to be, Harry.”

“Or maybe you are inept at this,” he smirks, coming to sit beside her. 

“I am not!” She protests. “The illustrations are misleading. None of the constellations look like this,” she points to the image of a centaur holding a spear on one hand and a dead goat on the other.

“That’s because it’s meant for people like you,” he chuckles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She arches her brow.

“Someone who learns from books. It only makes sense the catalogue has full fledged pictures of animals on there, otherwise it would be a mess of lines connecting one dot to another. So, accept defeat,” he urges.

“Fine. Tell me where the alpha centauri is,” she demands.

“What would my compensation be?”

“How about not making you walk the plank at dawn,” she scoffs. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess. I was thinking less along the lines of drowning and more along the lines of this,” he mutters as his hands reach to cup her full cheeks. They are warm under his palms, even against the biting gust, his thumb moves to caress her pillowy lips, eyes flicking down to her mouth landing on the crescent birthmark by her chin. They hadn’t kissed since he’d left for Lanka and every night he’d spend in her presence, Harry’s mind could not stop drifting to the way her mouth pressed against his with urgency.

Y/N eyes flutter shut, leaning towards him, nudging his cupid's bow with her lips. Her mouth brushes his as she whispers, “Not before I get my information, spy.” She backs away, observing the way his pupils dilate under the soft buttery light.

“You can’t spot the alpha centauri-”

“I know, which is why I asked you.”

He rolls his eyes at her hastiness. “No one can, because it can only be seen from the southern hemisphere.”

“You tricked me,” she gasps. 

He shrugs, as he tugs her to him, wasting no time in capturing her lips against his. It was more heavenly than he’d remembered. Y/N’s hands snake up to bury them in the baby curls at the nape of his neck, bringing him closer. She melts against his chest, curiously slicking her tongue against his lips, smiling as he parts his mouth for her. She tasted like the tamarind candy she loved. Harry drops one of his hands from her cheek, finding home in the curve of her hip. It’s heady, both greedily smacking wet kisses the curve of their jaw when they part to draw in air. Harry’s heart thumps loudly against his chest, sending him rhythmic reminders that he was twitterpated by the woman trailing her lips against the stubble of his jaw. Plebeians and royalty don’t mix, and on the rare occasion that they did, it never ended well. But until midday tomorrow - when they would reach the port of Handuman - she was just a woman, made from the same stardust as him, whom he wanted to keep melding lips with.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

[thedissociatives]

Heeeyyyy, I'm so so intrigued by your hockey posting. I'd love to know more about Fedorov, like what's the lore, what makes him special? Have a nice day/ night <333

good morning/afternoon/evening anon! since you asked so nicely i'll try my best but i do tend to forget everything i know when i have to actually explain it. there is a lot of lore tho so i'm not gonna go over all of it (mainly the bits that interest me the most + some other stuff). i guess what really makes him special (at least to me) is the fact that we don't get players like this anymore. and i'm not talking playing style here (the impact of euro hockey players of the 90s on the nhl today is still so obviously there). a lot of his early career was directly impacted by cold war politics, and since those circumstances haven't existed for a while now, we don't get this insane type of backstories and lore anymore. i should also make it clear that i'm a massive nerd who sat in classrooms for years learning abt soviet stuff which i think definitely has an impact on who My Guys are

seriously there is a lot under the cut so be warned because i did get carried away with myself A Lot (i literally wrote over 1k words on this. sorry in advance)

ok so. sergei started playing "pro" hockey in the soviet union in the mid 80s (i don't think this is the place to explain whether these players were pro or amateur so will leave it like that), first in minsk (only for a year) before being picked up by cska moscow- the central army team. these guys made up most of the national team, which can probably be explained by the fact that their head coach also coached the national team (god that's a bit of a mouthful, but incredibly relevant). he wasn't the only rookie on the team that season; another kid (i think they were both like 16 at the time ?) called alex mogilny had also just arrived in moscow. they would become good friends. sergei would play three seasons for cska before being called up for the national team- he was going to the 1989 world championship. alex would be there, too, having already played on the team before. naturally, the ussr won gold (as they did almost every year). but that doesn't mean everything was good with the players. not long too after the tournament, some of the older players would finally get permission to play in the nhl, but for the younger guys it was looking like they had no way of getting out any time soon. in the days between the end of the championship and the soviet team's flight home, mogilny apparently approached fedorov and asked him to go to america with him- sergei said no, worried about what would happen to his family. alex would go anyway, disappearing for a few days before popping up in buffalo ready to join the sabres. (this might seem irrelevant right now but it's actually really not- i'm getting there now)

that same summer, sergei would be drafted in the fourth round by detroit. this choice may or may not have been influenced by steve yzerman telling them sergei was better than him. after a bit of back and forth, they got him to defect after cska played a series of games in north america. it literally sounds like the type of shit they write in spy films it was fucking mental. this made him only the second soviet to defect in order to play in the nhl i'm pretty sure (defo the second in like 18 months- funnily enough it was his bestie who was the first one. what a coincidence), but they weren't the first two from the other side of the iron curtain to do that. might be wrong but i think that honour goes to the stastny brothers. anyway. when sergei got to detroit he wore 91 because he wanted to "be like stevie" or some insane shit like that. which i literally think about all the time. like seriously what was that about sergei.

okok can't not talk about the russian five so doing that now. since idk how much you know about hockey i'll do a better job on this bit. after sergei arrived in detroit, management must've figured they could get more russians. over the next couple of years they got vladimir konstantinov (who was drafted the same year as sergei) and slava kozlov to make the jump to the states. since i'm mainly talking about sergei i won't go into how they got those two but it's just as unbelievable as you'd expect. after the 1994-95 lockout, the wings traded for another russian- slava fetisov. if you ever want to learn about soviet hockey you'll hear a lot about this guy, and for good reason too. he won two olympic gold medals and seven world championships with the soviet union, and captained most of those teams. obviously adding a guy with that much experience winning was a smart choice imo, even if he hadn't won anything in the nhl yet. by now the wings had four russian players- why not add a fifth ? in 1994 the wings were embarrassed in the playoffs, losing to san jose. it just happened that sj happened to have two of the older soviets who had fought for the right to play in north america. one of them was igor larionov- probably the smartest guy to ever play hockey. it was his tactics (and refusal to change his style of play) that led to his team's success in the first round. and i guess detroit didn't ever want to deal with that again because they ended up trading for the guy in the first part of the 1995-96 season. the russian five first played together in calgary, where they played that style of soviet hockey that nhlers could never really wrap their heads around at the time. they walked all over the flames in their own building, and would continue to do the same to the rest of the league. the five would be a key part of the 1997 stanley cup-winning team, which was the first wings team to lift the cup in over forty years.

sergei stayed to win a few more cups, and then left the city. he signed w the ducks in anaheim, bleached his hair and moved out to california (i think we can all resonate with wanting to change our appearance and move thousands of miles away from where we've spent over a decade building out lives amiright). from what i can tell, this move was Not Liked by detroit's owners (honestly i can't see any other reason his number hasn't been retired there). he'd bounce around a couple more nhl teams before going back to russia to play on the same team as his brother, eventually retiring in 2012.

jumping to 2015, that year's hockey hall of fame inductees included sergei (and nick lidstrom, one of his detroit teammates and one of the best defencemen to every play the game). it was basically a 90s wings reunion. in sergei's induction speech, he did like everyone else and thanked a bunch of people who helped him out throughout his career. and, you know, it was all the expected stuff (hockey guys can be so predictable sometimes), but "to my captain, steve yzerman" still fucking gets me. it had been twelve years since he'd worn a wings jersey. my captain. i think you get my point but i'm gonna have to stop there because i can't carry on and be remotely normal about it.

oh and in 2021, after spending a few years bouncing around random jobs for the team, cska announced that fedorov would be taking over as head coach. he went back to the team where all this started. now i don't know how exactly he is with his team but i sure hope he learned enough from his days there as a player under tikhonov on exactly how not to treat your players. cska won back to back gagarin cups (the trophy awarded to the khl team who wins the playoffs) in sergei'd first two seasons behind the bench, and they're probably looking to make it a threepeat with the playoffs starting today (?)

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Thanksgiving

Thank you, anon, for this prompt. I would never have thought of that one myself.

To all my friends who celebrate: Happy Thanksgiving. I certainly am very grateful for y'all!

Characters: Fingolfin and a slew of others...(and Finrod)

Words: 1 850

Warnings: resentment, regrets, reproaches, a lukewarm bird, and a lot of love (it's not that serious, don't get mad!)

Fingolfin stared at the ominously glistening carving knife in open dismay.

“You can’t tear the bird apart with your bare hands,” Anairë cautioned under her breath. “Please, do not make a scene about blades. Not today. Not with all of them here.”

He nodded ponderously and turned to the assembly, entirely made up of his blessedly numerous descendants.

“Good evening, I welcome you warmly at this unprecedented feast of profound gratitude for the invaluable blessings we have received. Let's rejoice rather than elegize morosely. Anyway, my name is…”

“Eru bless, he’s forgotten his own name,” Aredhel stage-whispered, which earned her a punitive glare from Turgon and a hard jab in the ribs from Fingon.

“Ñolofinwë,” Fingolfin finished his sentence slowly. “Fingolfin? Golfin?”

He sighed deeply. “Call me whatever you want—some of you I have had the honour of meeting, and others I am looking forward to getting to know.”

“The food is getting cold!” Argon complained—he had died young and had not sired any children, so his stomach’s yearnings were of more importance to him than the painfully awkward introductions at their first annual family reunion.

He was not even sure that one could call this a “reunion” when they had never been gathered in this constellation before.

“I agree,” Aredhel piped up, much to the chagrin of her surly, overly quiet son who just gave her a pleading look. Maeglin suffered still under the repercussions of his betrayal, and he felt supremely uncomfortable, sitting motionlessly at the same table as his uncle and cousin.

“’Rissë,” Anairë intervened sharply. “I, for one, am delighted and grateful to see so many generations congregated here.”

“Turno is the best,” Fingon jeered, but his voice was warm and infused with benevolent humour. “He has single-handedly secured a legacy for our family. You’ve won that one, I think--isn't that another thing to be thankful for?”

“You forget my wife,” Elrond reminded him suavely but fell silent instantly as the memory of his brother and daughter welled up like acid in his weary heart. “She begs you to forgive her absence, but her mother…”

“Is absolutely right to wish for her only daughter to be by her side,” Anairë mediated once more with impeccable grace. “As the mother of a wayward daughter myself, I understand that only too well.” “As far as I can see, I sit here with my son as well. Why don’t you hound Fingon, your golden child, or Argon, your precious baby, about their abject failure to produce valiant heirs to join our merry round of traitors and murderers?”

“’Rissë!” Fingolfin thundered with much less parental indulgence than his wife had shown. “Can we please just share a meal and exchange some pleasant stories? I would very much like to hear about the lives of my descendants.”

“You could have been there,” Fingon muttered, “but you had to go and get yourself killed.”

“Says the one who went to the exact same place to save his ginger menace of a…friend?” Turgon commented dryly.

“He could well have been there; he would not have found you anywhere though, would he?” Fingon shot back, fire flaring in his eyes.

“And that’s why I didn’t want any weapons,” Fingolfin sighed, clutching the carving knife to his chest and casting dark looks at his progeny.

“Children,” Anairë cried. “Children! What shall the young ones think of us if we squabble and argue like fishmongers?”

“I’m used to it,” Elenwë declared calmly.

“So am I,” Idril laughed. “Sorry, I have known my very own father for too long not to be used to his sharp tongue,” she added when the others stared at her in shock.

“Grandfather has ever been kind,” Eärendil—who had been dispensed of his duties for the evening—remarked generously, patting his son’s hand. “Worry not, dear, it’s normal.”

Elrond merely shrugged. “I have spent large parts of my life with Lady Galadriel, Gil-Galad, and Celebrimbor, besides the Dwarves, the Hobbits, the meddling wizards, and the many Men who have come and gone. Thus far, I’ve heard nothing that could even scratch the surface of my equanimity!”

Fingolfin rubbed a weary hand over his eyes—when Anairë had announced, an unimaginably long time ago, that she was carrying Fingon, he could never have imagined what profound joy and heartbreaking misery was to follow.

Looking over now at the beautiful, sensible creature he had desperately loved and despicably deserted, he felt his throat tighten with overwhelming emotion.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Anairë laughed. “I can safely claim that this wilful, wicked streak is entirely passed down from your side.”

“Mother has disavowed us, and there is no food,” Argon exclaimed dramatically.

“How do you know?” Maeglin asked in a cautious tone; he was ever eager to see others shift blame because it made him feel less wretched about his own shortcomings.

“I’ve spent a long time in close conference with both Nerdanel and Eärwen,” Anairë explained as she plucked the lethal knife from her husband’s hand and started cutting the festive offering of meat and fruit into thick slices. “We have come to the conclusion that the alarmingly wild and reckless streak in all of our beloved children must surely come from the same source.”

“Again, my mother-in-law and wife are nothing if not measured and wise in their words, actions, and decisions,” Elrond opined calmly.

“So you say,” Aredhel mocked. “I could tell you stories about your cherished mother-in-law that would make your blood curdle.”

“Ha!” Fingolfin cried. “Surely, ‘Rissë’s savagery cannot be laid at my poor father’s feet!” He sought his wife’s sparkling gaze once more.

With a chortle, Anairë strode over and pressed a tender kiss onto his high, chiselled cheek. “They are very much yours,” she hummed. “Taking off in a huff on a petulant, vexed whim, riding into lethal danger with a song and a prayer and doing exactly what they were told not to do seem to be constants in your family. Did not two of three of your father’s sons die in ludicrously brazen and irrational feats of unparalleled heroism?”

Fingolfin grimaced. Anairë, smiling still, meanwhile made the platters of steaming food go around the table—much to the delight of Argon and Aredhel—so their spell-bound guests could at least feast while witnessing the epic showdown between long-estranged spouses.

“Resentful words from you, wife,” Fingolfin muttered dejectedly.

“Oh, but love,” Anairë chuckled soothingly. “They are also faithful, hopeful, and laughably stubborn thanks to your blood. I shall grant you this: I have doubted your sanity but never your love. So, I always knew that this alone would be enough to make sure that you’d be returned to me in time. Nothing can detain your line where it no longer wants to abide, and nobody will ever be able to keep you from pursuing what you earnestly desire.”

“They have your patience,” Fingolfin replied, mollified and touched by her understated confession of enduring love and imperishable admiration. “No doubt, the ability to remain—hidden and watchful—despite their yearnings and duties comes from you. Though I am less rash than my half-brother, I admit that I have never managed to emulate your graceful talent of lying in wait, ready to pounce at the first good opportunity.”

As one, they turned back to gaze lovingly upon the faces of those who had sprung from the source of their long-forgotten, innocent hopefulness.

Discreet munching was halted as the heavy, noble regard of their patriarch fell upon each one, and more than one positively squirmed under the benevolent scrutiny of one so old and allegedly wise.

“I’ve died too early,” Argon then said flippantly. “Maybe Turno wants to tell us about his hidden city?”

“I do not,” Turgon barked around a scalding hot potato—a staple in every household since the arrival of the Hobbits—and glared at his youngest brother. “I built a city, people came, people left, people died. Then Gondolin and my humble self fell. Let’s skip that part.”

Catching Aredhel’s grateful look, he nodded imperceptibly and even tried to smile at Maeglin; what was meant as a gesture of goodwill and forgiveness was marred by the potato grotesquely distending his cheek still, though, and—as was his wont—Turgon simply shrugged it off.

“How about you, my darling?” Elenwë said, addressing Idril. “How have you fared?”

With a small sigh of fatigue—for she had told the story many times before—Idril launched into a tastefully abbreviated recounting of her life after the fall of Gondolin.

When her narration came to an end, Eärendil, eager to speak to others again, took the tale up where his mother had left off.

Soon, all eyes turned on Elrond who had lived a long time and had been a key player in a conflict all of them had missed on account of being detained in Mandos or mending in the gardens of Lórien at that time.

“Well…” Elrond mumbled, unsure where to start and how to explain the circumstances of his youth without reopening old wounds and reawakening grievances and family feuds. “After—”

He fell silent. His father sat right beside him, and he did not seek to make him or his mother feel strange or guilty about the unfortunate incident with the Silmaril at the Havens of Sirion.

Was it even recommendable to bring up the unfortunate stone? How about the ring of Sauron? Did they call him Sauron, or would they know him under another of his many aliases?

He groaned quietly.

“Káno and Russo took you, yes?” Fingon said encouragingly, his eyes feverishly bright, and his lips pale with tension as if he was forcefully holding back a flood of questions.

Elrond exhaled audibly and steepled his fingers against his chin in a bid for more time to find an appropriate answer that would not kick off another slew of recriminations and fighting words.

“AH! We have arrived just in time to listen to our dear cousins being disparaged!” A bright, chiming voice resounded from the doorway, and Finrod strolled in, accompanied by his sister and his niece. “I have taken the liberty of escorting darling Artanis,” he explained.

“You’ve come for the gossip,” Turgon commented dryly, but his eyes lit up at the sight of his old, much-beloved friend. “Have a seat; you are indeed right, and we are about to hear about the parental talents of our Fëanorian kin.”

“Does that make me the worst of all?” Elrond asked dolefully. “Am I the compounded result of all the noxious strains of which Lady Anairë has just spoken?”

“Of course not, my dear,” Galadriel declared decisively. “Whatever good was in any of us, I am certain that you young ones must have harnessed it.”

Her warm, proud gaze shifted to her daughter who merely rolled her eyes at her and went to kiss her husband tenderly.

“Go ahead,” she whispered under her breath. “Tell them about the many people you’ve known and loved. Who knows? You might plant the seeds of forgiveness and renewal on this very night.”

Thank you so much for reading <3

-> Masterlist for November (by @cilil)

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2022: 26-Honour

Marinette looked back at her phone, trying to follow the directions to Cosmic Threads. She was new to Gotham, but it had been listed as one of the best fabric stores in the city. She couldn't wait to create her latest design.

As she turned the corner, she was bowled over by a group of older boys.

"Sorry!" they shouted, as the continued to run down the street.

Marinette sighed as she picked up her phone from the floor. As she picked it up, she noticed a black wallet on the floor.

'Must belong to one of those boys. I can drop it off on my way back from the store.'

Suddenly, her arm was grabbed and she was face to face with The Penguin.

'Son of a bitch! No wonder why they ran! They at least could have warned me!'

The batboys winced when they saw the girl they had run into, in the arms of The Penguin. He had his umbrella gun pointed right at her and she didn't look happy. She didn't even look scared; she looked pissed off. Once they entered the fight, it wasn't hard for him to claim her as a hostage. All it had taken was a well thrown batarang to knock the umbrella out of his hand, but he had quickly tossed her off to the side. Red Hood protected her and told her to run through a side exit and was gone. No more distractions. Marinette quickly ran out only to run into the cops.

'Looks like I can't go shopping today. Guess I might as well return the wallet.'

Marinette looked inside and saw a Gotham ID. The wallet belonged to Damian Wayne.

After Marinette had given her statements, she turned to leave. She turned towards the crowd and saw the boys from before. Marinette walked up to them and threw the wallet at them.

"Thanks for the tip, Assholes!" she shouted.

Damian picked up the wallet and looked inside, "So, how much did you steal?"

Marinette was quick to punch him in his face, breaking his nose.

"You-" he cried out.

Jason and Dick held Damian in place, as she glared at him.

"How honorable you are, Coward." She sneered.

Marinette turned away and quickly let the scene. Jason let go of Damian's shirt and started laughing. Dick called for a medic to come look at his youngest brother. Tim sighed, and looked down.

'Blood? Was she injured by the Penguin?'

Tim left to follow. It hadn't been that hard to catch up with her.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked her.

"I'm fine." she growled and continued walking.

Tim looked her over and noticed a gash on her leg. Rapidly, he picked her up. Marinette started struggling, trying to break free.

"Hey! Put me down! Help! Help!" Mari began to scream, as Tim took her back to the crime scene.

"Hey!" Tim called out, "She needs medical attention. She's just stubborn!"

"I can take care of myself" Marinette cried out.

"Oh, really?" Damian questioned, as he held a cloth to his nose, "What were you going to do? Stitch yourself up?"

"Yes." Mari answered.

Damian recoiled in shock. He looked her up and down. The gash was the length of her inner calf and appeared deep.

"I doubt you have the medical training to handle something of that magnitude." Damian declared.

"And I doubt you know how to be a gentleman!" she replied, "Oh, wait! You already proved that."

Damian glared at her as Drake hesitantly set her down.

"I can do it myself." Marinette explained.

"I can't allow that!" the EMT stated

"I was brought back against my will and do not wish to receive medical attention." she spoke, crossing her arms.

"Where are your parents?" the EMT questioned.

Marinette smiled, "Isn't emancipation the best."

The Wayne boys and the medical attendant looked at her in shock.

"Can anyone look after you?" they asked, "I have to accept you refused treatment, but I'd rather not have you go later to a hospital for blood loss."

Marinette rolled her eyes and picked up the cleaning solution from the ambulance. After she sprayed the solution on her, she grabbed the stitching needle with the thread. She quickly and easily stitched herself up. She wrapped her leg with cotton and gauze.

"Like sewing a shirt." She quipped.

Marinette hopped off the back of the ambulance and walked away.

Damian quickly grabbed her hand. Mari turned and glared at him.

"You are right. I should have spoken up as we rushed by, even grabbed your hand." he stated, "Let me do the honor of walking you home."

"I don't know." Marinette spoke, "You might attract more rouges along the way."

"Dinner then?" he suggested, "Come have dinner with us and I can make sure you are given a ride home."

She sighed, "You're not gonna stop until you redeem yourself, are you?"

"I'm told I stubborn." Damian declared.

Marinette looked at him and relented.

"Fine, but if I don't go home by seven, I'm calling the cops for kidnapping." she answered, "I'm already behind work because of you and have to get up earlier to get what I need now."

"Your injury won't hinder you?" he questioned, "Can't your boss give you a break?"

"I'm my own boss." Marinette smiled, "I do comission work from my own home. I was on my way to Cosmic Threads for some fabric."

"Maybe I can pay for your fabric then." Damian inquired.

Marinette winced, "I take hours to shop. I know exactly what I need and I'm picky when it comes to the quality of my work. It also won't be a frugal purchase."

"Don't worry." he smirked, "I can pay for it."

"Your wallet's funeral." She smiled back.

TAG LIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

[benedictscanvas]

Hi!!! I hope you had a good extended break!! As a writer myself I totally get the need. 😊 I love your writing!! Can’t wait to see what inspiration takes you on your journey next

As for a request, can I suggest prompt number three on the meaningful gestures list you linked with either Eddie Munson or Benedict Bridgerton (my two current obsessions 😂🤭)

Have fun writing lovely!!!

Ames 💜

this is a gorgeously sweet ask, so i hope you enjoy some sweet benedict fluff! thank you so much for being lovely <3 | 0.6k words, gn!reader

When Benedict invited you over to his house, you were imagining an afternoon of tea and pleasant chatter with him and his mother who more than once had insisted you call her Violet. There would be longing looks passed between you in moments of quiet, perhaps, and you even dared to dream of a moment in which the two of you reached for the teapot at the same time and your hands would brush for just a moment.

You had not expected Violet to be busying herself with preparations for Daphne’s next ball of the season, nor for your reluctant stand-in chaperone to be Eloise. You certainly hadn’t expected said chaperone to put a hand on your shoulder five minutes into your visit, murmur something about a book she had to get back to before leaving the room moments later.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I never thought that Eloise would just-” he cut himself off before he disparaged his sister too much in your presence, “If you no longer want to spend the remainder of the day together, I’ll completely understand.”

You tilted your head at him to work out his meaning. Benedict was far from being a shy man, and the two of you had spent many a ball away from prying eyes when you found a corner to yourselves to talk. He’d also made his feelings on the unspoken rules of society quite plain from the night that you’d met, so it couldn't have been that. Taking this into account, his questioning could only be driven by his concern for your own comfort and the thought made you shiver.

“Do you want me to leave, Benedict? Only because you did promise that you’d show me your latest masterpiece and I am ever so keen to see how you’ve immortalised me in oil paint,” you said, eyes bright with gentle teasing. He hadn’t noticed the amusement in your face, if the pink tinge dusting across his cheeks was any indication.

“I’m worried I’ve given you the wrong impression,” he began tentatively, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from chuckling at his delicacy, “I’m afraid my newest work is not of your likeness, though I would, of course, be honoured to someday paint you, if you’d allow me. It is only that I do my best work when somebody sits for me, you see, and I would hate nothing more than to do your beauty an injustice by simply attempting to recreate it from memory, rather than-”

He was rambling and hardly thinking about his words and they were still so utterly complimentary. It was too much, and you didn’t want to stop yourself. You shuffled over towards him on the sofa slightly to accommodate it, then  reached out two careful hands to the sides of his face and simply held him. It stopped him in his tracks.

“Benedict?” you murmured softly, thumbing tiny brushstrokes onto his freckles. He stared, jaw a little slack, in response, hands stuck at his sides, “I was teasing. You make it rather easy for me, actually.”

He let out a breathy chuckle that sounded more strained than he had intended. Finally able to move again after the brief spell you had placed upon him, one hand circled your wrist in a cautious embrace.

“And you make everything very, very difficult,” he eventually whispered in return, though you knew he was simply trying to join in the teasing.

“You’d like me to stop, then?”

You knew the answer. He knew that you knew. It was clear in the way his eyes flickered across every feature of your face, in the way they bounced away quickly when he glanced downward. In the restraint that only showed in the tick at the back of his jaw.

“No, I don’t think that would do,” he admitted, hand sliding up, up, up your wrist and flattening itself against the back of your hand when you grinned. He leaned into it, “I should think, if it would make you happy, you could continue at least a little longer.”

There were words at the back of your throat that you might have swallowed down if it weren’t for the way he was looking at you and the fact he wouldn't allow you to pull your hands from his face. You looked down at your lap and spoke them.

“I would like to be in the business of doing things that make you happy, Benedict. If you’d let me.”

Like the restraint had snapped, just for a brief second, he turned his head and pressed a featherlight kiss to your palm. It had been so light you barely felt it, but your sharp inhaled gasp echoed in the space left between you. He smiled like he had done nothing of the sort.

“Only if I am allowed, by some miracle, to make you happy every day of our lives, from today on. Does that sound favourable, my love?”

The term of endearment was enough to break your own resolve. Using the hand that wasn’t caught in his, you lightly traced his brow bone, cheek bone, jaw bone, one finger sliding along the planes of his face to keep the sunlight from bursting out of your abdomen right there. His eyes were alight and the warmth found there was worth drowning in.

“Favourable indeed, Lord Bridgerton.”

if you would like to request something, please do so here! i'd love to hear from you :)

[raayllum]

intention vs reception, and breaking the cycle

I think one of the best ways TDP talks about family / cultural dynamics is how things can be taken in ways differently than they were meant to, particularly when it comes to parents and children. Dynamics and interpretations are a two way street, and your reasoning for something may not be something someone else can see, and they’ll make up another reasoning for it on their own end.

We see this pretty specifically with Harrow and Callum.

Harrow puts up a distance because he 1) wants to honour Callum’s possible relationship with his deceased biological father and 2) likely feels guilty over Sarai, and Callum growing up in the shadow of that grief. 

H: Over the years, there have been moments where I let there be a distance between us. Because I’m your stepfather, I was trying to give you the space I thought you needed to love your real father, even though he passed away. Now I wonder if I should have held you closer. I wonder if showing you how much I loved you would have been okay, and would not have disrespected your relationship with him. Callum, I know I’m not your birth father, but in my eyes and in my heart, you are my son. I see myself in you. I’m proud of you. And I love you unconditionally. 

So we know Harrow had nothing but good intentions, but those moments of distance - of Harrow trying to give Callum more thoughtfulness, not less - led to Callum being insecure and distant over his spot in the family, doubtful that Harrow truly thought of him as his son, exacerbated by Harrow’s royal status that Callum was married into through his mother. This was never Harrow’s intention, but Callum responded to how he was being treated and then conjured up his own reasonings that made sense to him to explain it.

E: Callum, why don’t you just call him Dad? C: Because he’s the king. And I’m his stepson. E: I think he would want you to. If you wanted to.

Their full understanding of each other comes too late, but it’s no less meaningful for Callum. Even if discussing and getting there wasn’t easy. 

We see Ezran struggle with this too, of what to take from his father (“I just wish Dad was here - he’d know what to do, y’know?”) as well as what to leave behind (“I don’t want to be that kind of king”). Rayla has a similarly complex relationship with her parents. Is feeling abandoned how Lain and Tiadrin meant to make her feel in Bloodmoon Huntress? Of course not. Was the other side of that when Rayla makes her peace with it supposed to give her this highly dangerous risk taking personality where she’ll go off alone in misguided attempts to protect people? Of course not.

The same way that no matter how angry, Runaan never would’ve wanted her to be Ghosted (he tried multiple times to send her home). He took her off the mission to protect her, not because she was ‘weak.’ The same way that Runaan was the best of his village / culture - a brave and selfless man who wanted to protect his people - and yet could also be cruel and unyielding in the face of innocence that didn’t fit with his preconceived notions. Even the whole “do not show fear” was likely meant to be far more akin to “don’t let fear control you” but as always, cultures are made up of people, and people are flawed and varied in their interpretations, and how they manifest them: 

“It’s okay to miss them,” she said gently.

“But it doesn’t do anything.”

“Feelings aren’t about productivity or results,” she said. Maybe a little ironically considering she was a Moonshadow elf, he thought at first, or maybe exactly why, when she finished. “They’re just our responses. Our reactions. We can only control them so much. And Garlaff knows they aren’t always rational, even if they’re what we feel.”

“I thought Moonshadow elves were against letting your emotions rule you.”

“We are,” she said. “Because it’s about controlling how you respond in the wake of your emotions, but we cannot make ourselves totally unfeeling. No matter how much we may wish we could, sometimes.” She smiled sadly. “But we do sometimes work too hard to control how we respond, to the point of shutting them down. Some of us are better at that than others.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” he said, his lips twitching upwards. “I’m engaged to Rayla.”

“Which is why if you can’t control it—if you miss someone, in spite of everything—maybe it’s okay. I’ve seen your fear and aspects of your grief rule you, Callum. I’ve never seen you treat anyone worse for it.”

“Yeah, well...” He turned back towards the window. He thought of losing his temper with Ezran at Katolis, or the Caldera; Rayla at the Nexus after Claudia (a grimace tugged at his mouth) told him about Harrow. “I’m a lot better at that than I was when I was a kid.”

—Chapter 11 of “If Time Is Money,” published March 2020

We see this play out with Lissa and her children in particular, even more than with Viren perhaps. Lissa didn’t mean to give Claudia the trauma she did. She was doing her best to do the right thing by giving her children agency alongside Viren, and then trying to help them stay together. But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t massive harm done anyway. 

And it’s these gaps in interpretation and intention versus consequence that make these dynamics real and viable and well, emotionally poignant. We can do massive harm to one another, even when it’s the opposite of our intentions (Viren and Harrow are a fantastic, mutual example of this, and so is Callum and Rayla’s post-TTM fallout). 

Because, especially as these child characters grow older, eventually what we do with those interpretations fully become our own actions. None of them have had to go down the roads they have. Yes, our childhood experiences and the choices our parents make effect us, but we also 100% have the power to make different decisions and grow beyond those interpretations. That’s what Breaking the Cycle is all about. But...

E: Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. 

And I also think this commonality of difference between intention vs reception, shall we say, is also why Harrow’s advice in regards to how to break the cycle and free yourself from the past emphasizes understanding and imagination.

H: Reject the chains of history. Do not let the past define your future, as I did. Free yourself from the past. Learn from it, understand it, then let it go. Create a brighter future from your own hearts and imaginations. 

Over and over, we see characters (mostly antagonists and villains, but not always) insist that things have to go a certain way. We have to do this. I have to do that. This is the way things have always been. We must prevent a terrible future born from apparent weakness. 

History - of our families, of our lives, of ourselves, of our communities - demand certain things, and we can be chained down by those things so easily out of obligation, or fear, or guilt, or trying to find some way to feel loved or important. But, in reality

You just have to be willing to imagine something new, that the cycle can be broken, that you can be something else than what you were. You just have to try - and it is never too late to start trying. 

[seidenbros]

Hello you lovely people. 💚 I can't believe that there's really 1.5 k of you following me and I feel so honoured and blessed because I got to meet so many wonderful people. Of course, something like that calls for a celebration. The celebration will run until February 5th 2023 because that's my birthday, and I think that's a good date to stop that. Instead of writing myself, I'm going to give you a list of prompts (SFW, NSFW and scenarios). Just send me an ask telling my which prompt you want to do (you can combine them AND they can be done by multiple people) and which pairing you want to write it for (The Witcher and Stranger Things, any pairing you want). I'll read all of them, reblog them, and compile a list at the end to get them all together. When you post it, please tag me and tag it with #staffis 1.5 k celebration Among all those who reblog this post and who help spread the word, I will give away five sets (maybe more, we'll see) of stickers, and among those who write for this, I will give away 3 handpainted bags with the Hellfire Club Logo and little Eddie on the other side.

Gonna put the prompts below the cut, because otherwise, it wil probably be way too long. If you have any questions, my askbox is open. This is a way to celebrate, as well as spreading some love for other writers 💚💚

Lyric Prompts

“Every time that we meet I skip a heartbeat.” (Heartbeat - Scouting for Girls)

“I will always be right here to hold your hand.” (The Little Things - Keywest)

“Cause I need you so much, I can’t lose you.” (Hole in My Heart - Luke Friend)

“I’m not perfect, but I keep trying!” (Perfect - Hedley)

“Sometimes you make me a better person, sometimes you bring out the worst.” (Little Too Much - Natasha Beddingfield)

“If you wanna fight, I’ll stand right beside you!” (The Heart Never Lies - McFly)

“You have stolen my heart.” (Stolen - Dashboard Confessional)

“Let’s compare scars, I’ll tell you whose is worse.” (Swing Life Away - Rise Against)

“If I can’t have you right now, I’ll wait dear.” (Patience- Guns n’  Roses)

“I love you till the end of time. Come what may!” (Come What May - Moulin Rouge OST)

“For the person 15-year-old me would be proud to have known.” (Battle Cries - The Amazing Devil)

“Baby, you’re all that I need.” (Bed of Roses - Bon Jovi)

“I know there’s someone out there feeling just like I feel.” (Handwritten - The Gaslight Anthem)

“You’re the only one I see, love, and that’s the one thing that won’t change.” (Never Stop - SafetySuit)

“I love her because she moves in her own way.” (She Moves in Her Own Way - The Kooks)

“Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer.” (Thunder - Boys Like Girls)

“I know it’s late, but I had to get out and… somehow I ended up at your door.”

SFW Prompts

“Of course I came for you. I will always be there for you, no matter what!”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Where does all the blood come from? Are you hurt? Wait… This isn’t your blood!”

“Oh God, what on earth have you done now?”

“I am so in love with you and it hurts like hell that you don’t even notice!”

“I hate to ask this of you, but can you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”

“You have no idea how much I want to choke you right now!” “Ohh kinky.” “Not like that!”

“You know, a hug can be like medicine and make some of the pain go away. Wanna try?”

“Will you please, please just kiss me now?”

“I’ll kick his ass, if you want me to. No problem at all!”

“Is it okay, if we just lie down and watch a movie? I’m not feeling so good.”

“The frosting goes on the cupcakes! You’re not supposed to eat it just like that!”

“I just want to be alone, is that so hard to understand?”

“It breaks my heart to see you like this!”

“Even after everything we’ve been through, I’d still choose you. I will always choose you!”

“Scoot over, I’m gonna get in bed with you. You need some cuddles.”

“It’s alright! It was just a dream, you’re safe here. Tell me all about it so I can fix it, hm?”

“I know it’s not the best, but-” “I love it!”

“I really wish I was enough for you, but that’s never gonna happen.”

“Well then, who do you like?” “Oh, maybe the person I talk to all the time, the person I talk to every fucking day!” “You talk to me every day.” “Yeah…” “Oh!”

NSFW Prompts

“How about you put these lips to work instead of just talking all the time?”

“Will you stop talking, or do I have to make you shut up?”

“Don’t hide from me. Let me see you!”

“I need to feel you… Now!”

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

“Are you gonna be a good girl/boy for me?”

“Care to elaborate why you are going through my drawer and what you’re planning to do with that vibrator?”

“Now, now, don’t play shy now. Let me hear you!”

“You taste like heaven, and I can’t get enough.”

“Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!”

“Fuck… just… right there! That feels so good!”

“Feel what you’re doing to me? That’s all because of you!”

“Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you.”

“I know you said no marks… But what if I put them where nobody except for me will see them?”

“You act all innocent and look so sweet, but I know what a dirty mind you really have.”

“We have to be quiet. If you make a sound, I’ll have to stop!”

“You tell me to stop teasing you, yet you moan all the time.”

“When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?”

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account. I’m really enjoying the view.”

“I don’t like being told what to do, unless I’m naked. So can we move that to the bedroom?”

“Can I watch you?”

Scenarios

A is talking on the phone to someone, while B comes up behind A and successfully distracts A with kisses to the neck, making A end the call early.

Baking together for the first time, which ends with flour and other ingredients where they don’t belong, and lots of laughter.

Lying in each others arms after having sex, while A finally confesses their feelings, and B falls asleep before they can even hear it.

Tracing your fingers over your lover’s freckles or even connecting them with a pen while they are asleep.

Sitting in silence watching the stars, hands inching closer, until they finally interlace their fingers, smiling to themselves.

Giving your crush your scarf and your gloves in cold weather, because you want to keep them warm.

Waking up to your lover pressed against your back, already awake, but they don’t want to get up just yet.

Coming home to find your lover made a pillow fort, ordered pizza and already got a movie set up for you to watch in that fort.

Going to a family wedding with your best friend, who you introduced as you boy-/girlfriend so that your family doesn’t try to set you up with someone - that means you’ll also share a bed for the night.

Coming home to smoke in the kitchen, because your lover wanted to make a cake for you, but is an absolute disaster in the kitchen.

Teaching your crush how to dance, because they want to know the basics for an event, which ends in lots of body contact, beating hearts, and an invitation to be their date for said event.

Being on the phone with your lover and they tell you “I love you” for the first time before hanging up, which makes for a very interesting next meeting.

Being at a loss for words, not able to express how you feel, so you just pull the other one close and kiss them instead. Actions speak louder than words.

Making it through a family dinner or some other event to come home and help each other out of these clothes. Unzipping a dress, unbuttoning a shirt with lots of soft touches and kisses that turn carnal at one point.

You come home drunk from a party, and your partner takes care of you, makes sure you get to bed safe, have enough water, and you tell them that you appreciate it, but there’s this wonderful person, who already has your heart, so you have to behave.

Going for a drive in the middle of the night, because you both can’t sleep, listening to your favourite songs and singing along, trying to be louder than the other one.

Surprising your loved one with recreating your first date, asking them if they remember all of that.

Scars tell the story of where we’ve been, they are a part of us, and you show that to your loved one with kissing all of their scars.

Gonna tag some mutuals who might enjoy this 💚 @thefreakandthehair @indouloureux @magnoliabutters @jadeylovesmarvelxo @sweetpeapod @ethereal27cereal @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @latenitewolves @amzngdevil @luteandsword @tellhound @jesskier @writingmysanity @dancingwiththefae @wren-of-the-woods @flowercrown-bard @kodiakwhiskey @open--till--midnight

[invisibleraven]

I want everyone to see that we belong together, sweet tarts

"Carrie! Time to get up lady!"

Reggie stirred from where he was curled around Carrie, then sat up quickly, almost jumping out of the bed, grabbing his things and diving into Carrie's large walk in closet just before Kayla walked in.

"Geez girl, you're still in bed?" Kayla asked as she pulled open the curtain, causing Carrie to groan and wince as the light assaulted her eyes.

"Kayla, too early," Carrie hissed.

"Hey, you're the one who told me to get you up at the ass crack of dawn so we could get your insane schedule done," Kayla said, hands on her hips, glaring at her.

"Remind me to put a hit out on past me for that," Carrie said as she slowly got up. "And not to let me schedule an early morning wake up call again."

"Duly noted, now up and at 'em!" Kayla said, clapping her hands. "Shower, dress, all that nonsense so we can get on the road for your eight AM appearance." She started to walk out and then turned around, pointing at her. "And no going back to sleep! If I don't hear the shower in ten minutes, I'm dragging you in there myself."

Carrie felt like she could breathe again once the door closed. "It's safe," she called out.

Reggie popped out, his tank and jeans already pulled on, flannel in his hands. "You gotta take the key from her, that was too close."

"She probably has a copy or five around," Carrie stated. She bit her bottom lip then, looking at him. "Would it have been so bad if she had caught us?"

Reggie looked at her then, his expression unreadable. "You're the one that wanted to keep us a secret doll."

"I know, I know," she said with a sigh. "It's just... I guess I wonder if my reasons are all that important anymore."

Reggie sat on the bed next to her, taking her hand. "Are you saying you're ready to start telling people about us?"

"Would you be okay with that?" she asked, giving him a small smile.

"I want everyone to see that we belong together doll, you know that," Reggie said. "Everyone would ask how a dolt like me got a bombshell like you on my arm, but to have you there to show off?"

"I'm not a piece of arm candy," she replied, smacking his arm playfully. "But... I do have a red carpet tomorrow, you wanna be my date?"

"It'd be my honour," Reggie stated, pulling her in for a chaste but loving kiss.

"I don't hear the shower, so I hope you're ready for me to drag you...oh," Kayla said as she came in. "Well then."

Carrie and Reggie exchanged glances, grinning at one another. "Guess the cat's out of the bag," Reggie said.

"I have a million questions and you," Kayla said, pointing at Carrie, "owe me a good gossip sesh, which we will be having in the car ride. So get in the shower. Alone."

"Yeah yeah," Carrie grumbled, getting up, but kissing Reggie as she went, whispering good luck.

Reggie was left alone with Kayla, and he was sure he gulped as she glared at him. "Um... I'm Reggie?"

"You're a complication," Kayla said. "a cute one to be sure. So you wanna give me your side of things over breakfast while I contemplate why my best friend and client decided to keep you a secret from me?"

"You say that like I have a choice," he said, getting up and following her to the kitchen.

Carrie emerged in the kitchen some time later, fearing for whatever is going on there, but she sees Reggie and Kayla sharing a laugh over coffee. "We all good?"

"He's gotten the Kayla Seal of Approval, but we're still having a talk on the way to your thing this morning," Kayla said. "Now, say goodbye, and let's get on the go."

Carrie grinned, looping her arms around Reggie's neck, kissing him goodbye, and he swayed her a bit before she took off, trusting that he would lock up before he started his day.

"Spill," Kayla stated as soon as the driver left the driveway.

Carrie sighed, but did, unable to wipe the smile off her face as she talked about Reggie. "Oh and he's my date tomorrow night."

"Of course he is," Kayla muttered, but then grinned. "Happy for you Care Bear."

Carrie pulled out her phone, seeing a kissy face emoji from Reggie, and beamed. "Yeah, me too."

[iamcherryblessed]

Rosaline // Alec Volturi: Chapter One

Summary: “How the blood rushed into my cheeks” Rosaline was no stranger to hard work, she’s been working as a maid for as far back as she can remember. Starting off as a scullery maid and ending up as a Lady’s Maid for the fearsome Jane Volturi. She’s just trying to keep her head on her shoulders and her heart beating, what happens when she catches the eye of her Lady’s stoic twin brother? What does Alec Volturi want with a lowly maid?  “So scarlet, it was maroon” Series masterlist

Chapter One

A shudder ran through me. A shaky breath escaped my lips as I stared at the elderly woman in front of me. 

“Rosaline, it is your duty.” The woman reminded, she was always quite stern. The toll of her work showed on each wrinkle that decorated her face. Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I slowly nodded my head. 

“It will be okay,” the woman, Annie, our head housekeeper, attempted to console me, a hand patting my shoulder. 

“Yes, Miss.” My voice came out shaky. It won’t be okay, she’s just signed my death sentence. 

I could hear the whispers of the other girls, not so quietly taking bets on how long they think I'll last. Even as the new girl I had been warned about the cruel legacy of our masters, heard the gossip of what happens to the Lady’s Maid of the most feared of them all; Jane. Apparently Hattie, the girl before me, had a habit of being quite heavy footed. All it took was stepping a bit too hard onto the floor for her head to be rolled off her shoulders. 

Before this assignment I was a kitchen maid for another noble family, I spent most of my time baking complicated recipes and cleaning the cutlery. I had started off as a scullery maid but had managed to work my way up, what I would give to stay in the kitchens. Apparently those kinds of maids are not useful for this family, I am not sure what kind of household does not find a kitchen to be useful. There have been mutterings of the words ‘monsters’ and ‘devils’ but it is not my duty to ask questions, it is my duty to serve. And if that duty is to serve Jane Volturi, then I shall do my best. It seems like my life depends on it. 

A gaggle of chambermaids stood by the door, they giggled to themselves as I walked towards them. “No bother to learn your name now,” they laughed. I tried to remain calm, I tried to catch my breath and I tried to show no emotion on my face. It wasn’t working well if their growing smiles were anything to go off. 

“Girls, leave her alone!” Annie snapped, “make sure to get a good night's rest” she added on in a much more gentle tone. I nodded and kept my head down as I quietly made my way up to my new chambers. 

The one positive to becoming a Lady’s Maid is being able to move from the servants corridor. The servants quarters were all kept to the left side of the castle, we had a couple of rooms with as many beds that could fit on the ground floor, the rooms were separated by girls and boys. Just above was a small and not very updated kitchen, there wasn’t an area dedicated to eating. We just ate as quickly as we could where we stood. The bathroom was next to the kitchen, there was one toilet and one bath that only produced cold water to share between all the castle servants. Throughout the floors were the servants' halls which allowed us to move as swiftly as we could across all the floors while avoiding being seen by the masters. All of the areas used only by the servants were all dimly lit and held a musty scent but it was the only place where we could speak above a whisper or hold a smile. Not that many people here did. 

A Lady’s Maid gets to sleep on the same floor as their Lady, our room is conjoined. Unseen by the Lady but close enough for us to come as soon as we are called. Being a Lady’s Maid is normally a high honour, for most maid’s starting at a scullery maid and ending up where I am now normally takes a lot longer. However, this place, this family, everything is different. Everything feels weird. 

From what I’ve heard about Lady Jane she goes through maids very quickly, according to the gossiping chambermaids Hattie was her fourth this calendar year and it is currently only month eight. Of course you send the new girl to be the fifth, why send someone you're familiar with? It’s not as much of a loss when you’ve only been here for less than a month. 

My new room was cramped, there was a small bed nestled between the wall and a small chest of drawers. On the other side, behind where the door opened, was a toilet with a sink next to it, above was a dirty mirror. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my lips, it was compact but it was all mine. A room I didn’t have to share with 5 other girls, my own bathroom I didn’t have to share with over a dozen other people. It almost made it worth it. Until I glanced at the piece of paper that was on top of my thin pillow, it was Annie’s handwriting detailing Lady Jane’s schedule for tomorrow and the jobs I will need to complete. 

I felt my heart stutter, I need to get my head clear so that I can do my work tomorrow and stay alive. Sleep struggled to come. But soon enough the morning came and I heard Lady Jane calling for me.