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#my step sister walked in on me drawing this and i didn't know how to explain it
bottle-of-harpoons · 1 month
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Sorry for pushing my autistic furry agenda on you guys but I can't control it.
Anyway, crack submas sonic au.
They are jackals (mainly because of the black and white colour scheme). They're freakishly tall and very silly.
There isn't any deep lore to this, they're just a bunch of furrys who are very dedicated to their train.
Ingo has a droopy ear because, as a kid, he used to be very self-cautious of his stern expression. It's his way of making himself look less intimidating. He still does it out of habit.
Emmet doesn't take shit from anyone. He knows people think he's weird but he doesn't care. If you disrespect his train or his brother, he'd probably run you down.
They also have Barry and Infinite working for them due to shenanigans.
Here are the older designs
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whorekneecentral · 6 months
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Old Friends
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Lance Stroll x Vettel!Fem!Reader
Warnings: big brother seb!!!, queen hanna appearance + a mick and gina cameo, lance has a crush, alcohol and the consumption of, being tipsy/kinda drunk, mentions/ insinuated that someone cheated, nipple play, oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, seb teasing the two of you.
Word Count: 2,492
Author's Note: this is one of my favs so far. I couldn't write lance and not put in seb, it just wouldn't be me.
merry smutmas series
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Lance gets an invitation to an old teammate’s place to ring in the new year but he finds himself too distracted by someone in particular to care about the ball dropping.
The invite came in the mail; a dying trade his former teammate would tell him.
A little brown envelope with silver glitter all over it, surely his girls helped him put it together. The card inside was hand written, Sebastian's scrawled cursive with pictures drawn in pencil crayon and covered in glitter at the bottom.
You're invited to the Vettel household on December 31st at 9pm for a New Year's Eve celebration.
Please rsvp by December 22nd.
With love,
Sebastian, Hanna & the Vettel children.
Lance didn't have plans, his parents were doing their own things and Chloe would be in Australia with Scotty and his family so he took his phone out and texted Seb right then.
To Seb: Hey man! Got your invite, tell the girls I said their drawings were adorable. Just letting you know I'll be there :)
It took Seb 10 minutes to reply.
From Seb: Thanks Lance! The girls say hello and thank you. We can't wait to see you.
--
Lance finds himself on the Vettel's doorstep on New Year's Eve, a bottle of some expensive Swiss wine in hand. He knocks on the door and Hanna opens it with a little boy in her arms.
"Lance!" She smiles, stepping to the side for him to come in.
"It's so nice to see you," the younger driver says, kissing her cheek before saying hello to their son.
"Please make yourself at home. Food and drinks are in the kitchen and Sebastian is somewhere around here." She tells him, rocking the sleepy boy, "you know how he is." She laughs, shutting the door.
Lance nods, smiling at her as he follows her into the house. The place is full, he showed up around 10 rather than the 9pm invite but it doesn't seem to make a difference. Everyone is all over the place; he goes over to say hello to Seb and then bumps into Mick who was there with his girlfriend, sister and her boyfriend.
He does in fact make himself at home, putting the wine in the kitchen before getting himself a drink. His red solo cup has some vodka in it and he spins around, looking for the cranberry juice. He sees everything but that.
"Need help?" A voice comes from behind him and before he turns, he knows exactly who it is. He smiles when he does turn, now face to face with her. "Hi y/n."
"Hey Lance," you smile, "what are you looking for?" You walk over, hugging the man hello.
"Cranberry juice." He tells you and you nod, walking to the fridge to grab it.
Lance watches you, admiring your outfit; a slinky silver top and a black mini skirt that frankly wasn't very family friendly but was on par with the theme of the night. He had met you when Seb became his teammate at Aston, you had a habit of following your brother around the world when you got bored of your life. You were only a year younger than Lance but he was intimidated by you.
You were just as bubbly and fun as Seb, loud and out there but in Vettel fashion, you could become broody at the snap of your fingers; something that only happened if someone fucked over your brother or at least that's when Lance noticed it.
Now if Mick had walked into the kitchen then, he'd be teasing his friend.
He was aware of the crush his friend had on his other friend. Mick had encouraged Lance to talk to you time and time again but he could never work up the courage. When he finally did, you were in a relationship and you had been since.
"Here," you hand the bottle over to him, "I put it in the fridge. It gets gross.. well even more gross when it's warm."
Lance smiles, "thanks." He pours the juice into his cup, before settling it back into the fridge. In the meantime, you had been filling a few shot glasses with what looked like tequila.
"Are you driving tonight?" You asked, downing one of the shots. Lance shook his head, "took an Uber."
"Perfect," you handed a shot over to him, picking up another one for yourself. "Bottoms up, Stroll." You tapped your glass to his and down the tequila.
Lance makes a face, clearing his throat which makes you laugh. "So, how are you? How's Fernando as a teammate?" You ask him, pouring some soda into a glass.
"I'm okay. He's pretty okay too, he's no Sebastian Vettel though."
You smiled, "that's what I like to hear. I've been keeping track, you did great this season."
"Yeah? You think so?" He asks and you nod, leaning on the counter as you take a sip of your soda. "Thanks," he smiles, taking a sip from his glass in hopes that it covers the blush on his face. "So uh.. how have you been? How's your boyfriend?"
"I'm good," you smiled, "as for him? Who knows, he's probably fucking some model somewhere."
Your words catch him off guard, Lance chokes on his vodka. Your brows furrowed, his hand rubbing at his chest as you looked at him. "Sorry, I just... I take you two aren't together ?"
"No," you shook your head, "it's whatever though."
"Sorry to hear that," he tells you and you shrug, smiling at him. You were about to say something but Gina was shouting for you, something about shots. "Excuse me," you smiled at Lance, picking up the bottle of tequila and the pack of shot glasses before heading over.
As much as Lance wanted to be sorry about your relationship ending, he couldn't be. This must be some sort of gift from god, for you two to be in the same place while you're single and he had enough liquor in him to tell you the truth.
--
The hours go by and it's inching closer to midnight with each passing second and you were dancing around the kitchen as you got a snack. A slice of pizza held between your teeth as you poured yourself a drink.
"Hey," you mumble, mouth full as you take the bite and hold the pizza. Lance smiles at you as he gets himself another drink. "Hey."
"You good?" You asked, setting your pizza on the counter. Lance nods, "perfect, you?"
"Yeah," you smiled, shimmying your shoulders as you danced your way over to the Canadian driver. He smiles, watching you. The many tequila shots added up over the night and the fact that the tiles were sticky from what seemed like spilled soda, caused you to slip and fall right into Lance.
His drink spills all over your very cute top. "Oh damn," you tsked, looking down at yourself. "Oh shoot, are you okay?" you asked, looking at him to see if anything got on him.
"I'm okay, are you?" His hands held your forearms, steadying you. "Do you need to change?"
"I probably should," you tell him and Lance nods for you to walk, his hand holding onto your arm to keep you steady. He knew the layout of the house, he had come over for dinner many times before and he had spent the night after one too many glasses of wine.
Lance walks you up the stairs, hands on your waist as you two head up. You walk into the guest room and Lance shuts the door, "are you okay ? Do you need help finding anything?" He looks at you as you sit on the bed.
You shook your head, "all good, Lance. Thank you."
He nods, taking that as his cue to leave so you could change. As he turns towards the door, you grab his hand. "Can you.. undo the knot?" You turned your back to him, pulling your hair up.
It was two single knots done up with a bow behind your neck and your mid back that kept your top up. Lance carefully undid the knot on your back, letting the strings fall to the sides and your bare back left exposed.
"The.. the other one too?" He asks and you nod, "please."
Lance is hesitant, but he reaches forward and pulls the string, undoing the knot. The silver fabric falls to the floor, the beading on it clings when it hits the floor.
Your back is still facing the driver, you've dropped your hair back down but it's abundantly obvious to Lance that he's stood in the room with you, while you were.. well, topless.
"I should.." he starts but you turn to face him, his eyes shifting down to steal a glance at your tits and he looks back up at your face - it took all but a second and he was but a man.
You smile, holding his jaw with your hand. "Stay."
"I really shouldn't." He whispers and you step closer, my chest pressed to his. "Why not?" You asked, standing on your tiptoes, lips ghosting over his.
He doesn't answer but he lets you kiss him, his cold hand rests on your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "You're drunk," he whispers against your neck and you shake your head, "I'm not."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" His eyes find yours when he pulls back and you nod. "I do."
"Okay," he says, kissing you again.
Your hands make quick work of his shirt, undone the buttons as he kisses down your neck to your chest. Lance has got an arm around you, his lips moving down towards your tits, his lips wrapping around your nipple.
The sound that leans your mouth was like heaven on earth to him; he can't wait to find out what other filthy sounds you could make.
It was much too loud downstairs for anyone to have a clue what was happening upstairs. The door was locked and he knew you had at least 40 minutes to midnight.
You push him away for a minute, the man looks at you confused as you scoot him back to the bed, letting him fall onto the soft mattress. Lance expects you to get on top of him, not sink to your knees in front of him.
"Baby-" "Shut up," you tell him, undoing his pants.
He smiles, carefully pulling your hair out of your face as your hand wraps around his cock. Lance bites back a groan, watching as your hand moves up and down slowly, your lips brushing over the tip.
"Please," he whispers and you smile, looking up at him through your lashes as you take him in your mouth. This time, he does groan out loud. "Fuck," he sighed, your hair into a make shift pony tail in his hand.
Your cheeks hallowed, head moving up and down. Lance watches your every movement, eyes fixed on you and everything you did; had he known, he would have spoken to you much sooner.
The stifled gag comes when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, eyes watering as you pull back a bit. Lance pulls you up, "as much as I want you to keep going, I wanna cum somewhere else."
"My mouth is just as good, Lance," you tell him, wiping the side of your lips with your thumb, sucking your finger. You don't miss the way his cock twitches at the action.
He smiles, "I'm sure it is, but c'mere."
You let him pull you up before you get on his lap, straddling him.
There was enough liquor in your systems to give you the courage to do things you wouldn't normally do but that you’d definitely remember. 
Thighs squished on either side of him and your arms over his shoulders. His hand slides down from your hip to your ass, giving it a little squeeze. He smiles at you, admiring you. "Now, are you gonna stare at me all night or fuck me like I know you've been wanting too?"
For the second time that night, Lance had been caught off guard by your words. "You.. knew?"
"Of course I did, your staring wasn't exactly discreet, babe." You smile, pinching his cheek before you kiss him.
Your skirt bunched up on your hips, panties pulled to the side as you sank down onto his cock.
His hand on your hip guiding you, letting you bounce on his lap, his name falling from your lips.
Lance bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
Your hand tangles in his hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss him. You kiss all over his face, Lance's cheeks red not just from the lipstick you had on but from the blush forming on his cheeks; though if you asked him, he’d blame it on the liquor. 
"Fuck," you mumble, Lance's arms around you to keep you steady as you bounced on his lap, back arched slightly.
His hands squeeze at your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave behind fingerprints. 
“Mmm there,” you breathe, chest pressed to his. 
Lance's lips find your shoulder, he bites down softly when he feels you clench around him. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He whispers into your shoulder, peppering kisses over where he had just bitten. 
Humming, your arms are wrapped around him, over his shoulders when you cum, wetness covering his cock. It takes only a few more thrusts and Lance follows behind you, the two of you holding onto each other for a while. Your legs are like jelly when Lance helps you up, letting you fix yourself.
He too get redressed and you change into a different top, fixing your skirt and your makeup before turning to him.
"11:58, we can make the ball drop." You grab his hand, pulling him out of the room with you.
Everyone was in the living room, watching the TV and chatting as they awaited the count down. Your brother notices your return, as well as Lances, who stood behind you.
"Outfit change?" Seb asks, handing you a glass.
You nod, "spilled soda on my other top." You tell him, watching as he passed a glass to Lance.
Seb hums, nodding. "And you required Lance's assistance to change?" His brow raises and your cheeks go red. "I.. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah," Seb laughs, "whatever, y/n."
Lance smiles, his arm over your shoulder as the countdown plays; 10, 9, 8.
Your fingers interlock with his; 7, 6.
His cheek presses to yours; 4, 5.
"3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!" The people in the room cheer, friends hugging and lovers kiss. Lance leans over and you turn a bit, your lips pressing to his for a new years kiss.
"Happy New Year, Lance." You smiled, wiping the lipstick from his lips. "Happy New Year, Y/n."
---
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pyrrhiccomedy · 5 days
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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.
Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.
My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.
Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.
And then the pandemic hit.
And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?
And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."
Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.
And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.
We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.
The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."
I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."
Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"
I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.
"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."
She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.
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Can you write a fic where Ethan doesn’t want to be a Ghostface so he tells reader the truth and they warn the rest of the group then run away together
ethan hasn’t killed anyone (cause that would defeat the purpose of him not wanting to be gf) but this is after quinn and anika’s death. only convenient time for this conversation to take place. also i didn't add running away cause i feel it wouldn't make sense for reader to leave their friends behind durning all this, so maybe anon if you really want that i could possible do a follow up to them having a happy life.
gn!reader masterlist
“i- i have something to tell you.” ethan whispered in your ear, drawing your attention away from your anxious friends. you were gonna prompt him to tell you, but when you say the worry on his face you excused the both of you.
sliding into the bathroom with ethan on your heels, you sat on the edge of the tub while ethan leaned his weight against the door. “what’s wrong?” noting how ethan kept his eye to his feet, hands twisting below his stomach.
“what i’m about to tell you… just know i was forced to be apart of because of my family. things would have been worse if i- i just hope you can forgive me.” ethan finally looked up and at you. eyes soft and face open, waiting for something.
you shifted a little, worried whatever he says crosses your morals. “okay… but only if you actually tell me what it is.”
“okay,” he took a deep breath then said, “my family is ghostface.”
you froze, “i’m sorry, what?” keeping your voice composed, miraculously.
“my- my dad, sister and i. we’re related to richie, the guy sam killed in woodsboro last year. my dad is detective bailey and my sister is-“ “quinn.” putting those two pieces together.
you waved your hands around for a moment, “wait, so quinn didn’t die yesterday? only anika? then who was ghostface? were- were you the one who-“ “no! no, i wasn’t. it- it was my dad.”
ethan took two steps closer in his rush to correct you and you couldn’t hide the faint flinch it produced, but you saw his face fall. ethan noticed that you’ve become afraid of him. “my- my dad wanted it to be me, but i was enjoying my night and didn’t want to leave.”
that caused your heart to stutter, in the good developing a fat crush on a boy kind of way. you and ethan were having a study date at a diner two blocks from campus, and it seemed sweet when he phrased it that way but then your mind started turning.
“wait, was i just an alibi? if you went through with it, i would have defended a murder to my friends. what the fuck, ethan?” standing to your feet, face getting warm with heat. heart thumping at this alternate outcome.
"i know, i know. yes. you were designed to be my alibi, but I never fully wanted to be a part of all this, i only joined at first cause my whole family was a wreck after my brother died. my hands are free of blood but my conscious is pooling with guilt, that's why i'm telling you this so then we can then warn the others. i trust you the most out of everyone."
ethan took a step closer and instead of flinching or moving back, you stood your ground keeping a keen eye on him. "you swear you've had no part in anything so far? cause i can't trust or defend you if there is a drop of blood on your hands." staring up at him with pleading, hopeful eyes.
with this new information you didn't want to mistake him for a nerdy, shy good guy. but the ethan you know is the shy (flushing whenever chad tried to wingman him to you or any girl), a little nerdy (whiling to go into film debates with mindy when she was in a trusting mood) and he was genuinely a good, sweet guy. he'd always walk you home when it was dark outside, he'd buy you food or drinks whenever you're together for hours, and he'd always uplift you; complimenting you from your accomplishments to how you looked that day. that's the ethan landry you've gotten to know the past six months, you don't want to lose him.
his whiskey-brown eyes danced around, pinballing over the place. his tongue peeking out to wet his plush pink lips, your eyes followed the action. you felt his hand bump into your own, looking down to see him linking your pinkies together.
"i swear i have done no harm to anyone. when everything started to feel real i knew this wasn't the healthy decision, it's not worth losing everything i've gained. this group is more of a family to me and- and i don't want to lose you because of a revenge fantasy." brows pinching and eyes changing to a doe expression.
“what- what are you… what about your actual family? would they kill you or disown you? doesn’t- doesn’t that bother you in anyway?” watching how ethan’s face didn’t change, just a simple shrug in response.
“it doesn’t matter. nothing matters but this, so no it doesn’t bother me… completely.” bringing his free hand to your cheek, cupping your apple and rubbing at the growing dark circles. ethan leaned his head closer, “i mean it when i don’t want to lose you. i want to get the opportunity to build a future with you, get our degrees, take you out on dates and so much further down the line.”
“i’d- i’d like that too…” trailing off as you both leaned in and locked lips. hand reaching out to grasp onto the hem of ethan’s shirt, pinkies curling tighter, with ethan treating you like a fine piece of china. if this weren’t such a dire situation you would happily indulge further, but you kept it short and sweet before being the first to lean away.
“run away with me,” ethan sighed against your wet lips. your eyes fluttered open to see his dream stare. “can- can we do that?”
“after.” silently agreeing to flee with ethan, “but after all this. we can’t leave our friends behind and you’ll help us have the upper hand.” making a move to the bathroom door.
you pulled ethan behind you and brought the both of you back to the living room. all eyes turned to you and ethan, having been gone for almost ten minutes now.
“were you two making out? seriously? now?” mindy complained with an eye roll. you deadpanned her with a simple, “yes and, ethan has something to share will all of you.” stoned eyes melting into honey as you urged him on, “you can do this.” giving his hand a comforting squeeze.
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1-800-local-slut · 10 months
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rio getting to know shy reader but realizing she far from that now that’s she’s getting comfortable with him.
-🪡
He's Right
I hope you like this! I made it hella suggestive at the end. Please let me know what you think! I just started this show Rio is literally my baby daddy but I'm only like four episodes in so I'm if it's too out of character.
Likes and reblogs are very appreciated!
Pairing: Rio (good girls) x shy! black! reader
Warnings: cheating, mentions of traumatic past, cursing, suggestiveness at the end, reader has a boyfriend
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I need him in a way that isn't natural, I need him in my draws NOW.
______________________________________________________________
"Can I help you with anything sir?" Rio glanced up, his sharp eyes leaving the book he was examining.  The Lord of the Flies or some shit. He was sure he read it in school. But that didn't matter. What mattered was the woman standing before him. His eyes flicked to her neckline, seeing the star shaped necklace around her chest. That right there was perfect, telling him everything he needed to know about her relation to his target.
The woman was the younger sister of King Jericho. Otherwise known as some lame ass pimp who made the mistake of stealing from Rio. And no one steals from him and gets aways with it.
He still remembers how he was sitting with Marcus in a McDonald's drive through. Marcus was eating chicken nuggets, getting barbecue sauce and shit all over his mouth. Rio was telling him to take it easy, then he heard chiming. His phone rang, and Mick told him that their man went ghost. And when they couldn't find him, that meant they couldn't find Rio's money. And THAT was a problem.
So to make a long story short, Rio had to go the long way and go to his family. Mom sent him and Mick packing, dads dead. Only person left was his sister. And that led him to the gorgeous brown skinned woman before him.
"Of course you can, mama. I need help, I'm looking for King." His eyes scanned over her entire body, looking for something, anything, that could get him some help. Her brown eyes, and long eyelashes blinked at him but they didn't show fear or recognition. Instead she stared patiently waiting for him to continue. Nothing, time to try something else.
"Is that a series? Or an author? Do you know the genre?" Trying her best to do her job, he watched her reach into her side for her walkie talkie. So she didn't know about the King part, time to check if she knew about Jericho.
"Nah, it's none of that. I'm looking for Jericho." And there it was. The second the words left his voice in his usual charming manner her eyes filled with panic. Goosebumps appeared on her brown skin and one of her hands flew to her hair. He noticed for the first time that it must be a wig, black hair was in waves down her body and parted down her middle. For some reason her shiny hair was oddly enticing to him. Her teeth sunk into her plump, glossy lips and Rio's eyes flickered over them.
"Like...from the Bible?" Her soft voice was like music to his ears. If only that sentence wasn’t so stupid.
"...The Bible." He repeated while narrowing his eyes. Either he was being played for stupid,which was not a smart thing to do or she was stupid. He wanted to believe the woman he just found attractive even for a moment wasn’t an idiot. 
“Nah girl. I think you know what I’m talking about.” Placing the book that was still in his hands on the table behind him. Her chest was heaving quickly and she was clearly beginning to panic. Rio moved his eyes up to Mick, who was looking at a cookbook with Snoop Dogg on the cover. With a wave of his two fingers, Mick began to intercept her escape.
“I don't, I'm sorry. I don’t think I can help you, maybe you should check somewhere else.” Slowly turning on her heels, she walked head first into Mick. His solid chest stopped her, and nudged her glasses further up on her face. Stepping back she softly groaned and readjusted her lenses.
“Now, this looks like an interesting book. Can you tell me what it’s about?” Rio asked, sitting down and Mick led her to put her plump behind, that Rio noticed when he saw her through the shop's window. She nervously took a seat. While clenching and unclenching her hands on her skirt, Rio watched her with observant eyes. With a glance, he motioned to the book attempting to get her to tell him the truth. With a shaky breath one of her manicured hands reached for the book.
“It’s Lord of the Flies. It revolves around this group of British boys who are stranded on an uninhabited island and try to govern themselves. Things go bad really really fast.” Her brown eyes met him once more and he smirked. In response, she looked down at the table and snuck two looks at him.
“Oh nice nice, it got a nice ending n shit?” With a swift nod, he hummed. He kept his eyes trained on the golden star dangling from her chest, probably bought with Rio’s money.
“Alright, here’s the deal. Your brother’s a bitch. He stole from me and ran out, and I need to find him. And I need you to tell me where he is.” She swallowed thickly. 
“And who exactly would you be?” 
“My name ain’t important moma. Just know, I know you. I know your mom, I know your auntie and your grandma, I know your boyfriend too. You mom is vicious, she sent my ass packing and told me to try you next.” Her eyes got wider and wider with each sentence. He’d probably be shocked too if his own mom sold him out. Her brother had always been trouble for her. At least that’s what he gathered. She’s had to get him out of trouble more than once. Mostly out of trouble with men, going on dates and what not for his sake. No way they weren’t talking any more. 
“Look, I don’t know anything about my brother. I haven’t talked to him in like 3 years! I can’t help you. Whatever debt he’s got with you, I can’t settle it.” With a scoff and a sigh, Rio rolled his eyes lightly. Her eyes went wide at his laughter, her finger digging into her nails. She was afraid of him. He didn’t like that, but that brother of hers seems  to have gotten her involved with a lot over the past few years.
“Relax, ma I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just need you to tell me where he is.” Her head shook quickly, her hair flying around wildly. She was still denying contact.
“That’s a nice necklace. You enjoying 21?” Her face went stiff. Her mouth opened slightly to respond, her glossy lips parting. Then they shut quickly as he saw tears well up in her eyes. He was right. The necklace was sent to her apartment by her brother exactly one week ago for her 21st birthday.
“I can’t help you. I don’t know where he is, this didn’t have a return address. It came in an Amazon bag! I mean, if I could I’d help you but I can’t do anything for you gentlemen.” She was trembling in her seat, and two tears escaped her eyes. But if she could receive something from him, she could learn exactly where he was. And given he had no leads, he had to settle for asking her to find out for him. 
She was crying like he had threatened her, and he partially imagined what type of people she had been around to warrant a reaction like this.
“Look ma, I just need you to stop crying. Can you do that?” He asked and she nodded, wiping tears from her face.
“I can’t just let you go though. Your brother sent you something and I need you to find out where he sent it from. That’s it. Tell you what, put this book on hold for me. Imma be back tomorrow, with enough to pay for it. Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I just need you to learn this for me.” He slid out of his seat, leaving the trembling woman there and she placed her face in her palms in dismay.
______________________________________________________________
“Shit! What the fuck Rio?! You just break into my fucking house, you couldn't give me a phone call?” Growled the woman in a  slightly drunken anger. She turned on the lights next to the door and kicked off her heeled shoes. His eyes looked up and down her curved figure and she glared at him. Rio let out a laugh and his head lolled back on his shoulders. He was sitting on the back of her couch, petting her black cat who purred gently. Rio already found out that her cat adored anyone who fed her. 
“Well yeah baby. We still haven’t found your punk ass brother.”  Her eyes rolled hard into her head, and she threw her purse down and came around to the couch. Plopping down on her couch, Rio looked over at her soft skin covered by her golden dress.
It had been about two months. Two months since Rio went into the bookstore she worked at. Two months after the third day he entered the shop and she informed him that she found him. Then when he got there and found Jericho skipped out once again. And from there, something about her kept Rio coming back to bother the shy woman. Except she wasn't what he thought at first.
The woman slouched on the couch right next to him was vulgar, loud and proud, abrasive and more. She cursed at him, cursed out the TV, cursed out her mother and grandmother and boyfriend. She cursed out Rio. She was perfect for him. She was nice to him, despite their off putting first meeting. She put him in his place when she felt he needed it. She wasn’t afraid to tell him to shut his goofy ass up in her exact words. But still, sometimes he’d look at her and she looked just about ready to fold for him. And Rio liked that shit.
Now in a golden mini dress that she wore, with body glitter all over her breast was enticing Rio. She smelt like a mix of vanilla and a bar. In truth, if she could find her brother for him he didn’t care anymore. He could find him on his own with the clues they found at his last known location. In fact, soon enough they’d get their final location. He just liked bothering her. And it wasn’t like she was even bothering to look for him anymore. Last he asked she told him to suck her dick, she wouldn’t be searching for shit. 
“What’s wrong baby, you have a shitty night?” He asked, taking one of his large hands and cupping her face. He noticed her thighs pressed together with intense pressure. A smirk came across his face, and ran a thumb over her stained lips. She leaned into his touch and he waited for his answer.
“My boyfriends being a cunt again.” She sighed and her cat jumped into her lap, patting his paws on her soft thighs. Rio wanted to do that too, boyfriend be damned.
“Oh yeah?” He asked his hand itching down to her neck and his pinky scraping over the chain of that star necklace. That same necklace that pushed them to meet. Her eyes stayed glued to his, as she glanced up at him with wide eyes.
“He’s going on about not trusting my friendship with you. Then he told me to get the fuck on, since I didnt want to dance at the club. He was like ‘oh you rather dance with that other nigga?’ and I was like  ‘he’s not a fucking pussy, he could probably dance better than you’ so he told me to fuck off and I left him and told him not to come home tonight. You’re the other nigga in question. The niggas trippin, he keep bitching about it. He says he knows you wanna fuck me. He’s being a bitch, it’s making me want to cheat on him.” Suddenly he smirked at her. She raised an eyebrow, still feeling the heat of his hand on her throat and rubbing her thighs together.
“And what if I told you he was right?” His hand was now lightly around her throat, and he brushed pieces of her curly afro out of her face with his free hand. Slowly she began to process his words. Then a wicked smile crossed her face and she licked her lips.
“You should do something about that then.” Her voice now low and seductive, as he saw sparks of mischief in her eyes. He leaned in and pressed his lips against her soft ones. They pulled away for a moment and he lightly squeezed her throat harder. Licking his lips, he tasted the liquor and her strawberry lipgloss.
“I’m about to show you what else I’m better than his ass at.”
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lemon-boy-stan · 4 months
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THE BATTLE OF LIONS AND SNAKES - R.A.B
As the first wizarding war draws near, the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin becomes even more visible. You'd thought that being James's sister and a Slytherin would change things, but it only made things worse. Pairing: Regulus Black x fem!Potter!reader. Genre: fluff, some angst. Warnings: pureblood supremacy, war talk, slightly dark themes? Swearing, Sirius being a dick. YN calls Sirius a cunt.
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The Potters and Blacks were, perhaps, two of the most popular wizarding families at Hogwarts; along with the Malfoys, Prewetts and the Notts. Yes, being pureblood had it's privileges, but it was popularity that put James Potter and Sirius Black on the map.
James and Sirius were the kinds of people that no-one disliked. They were good at sports, funny, daring, and over-all good natured people. They might not have the best grades like Remus Lupin or Lily Evans, but they were damn good at making people laugh, and no-one seemed to mind if they lost any house points.
When the Sorting Hat was sorting you into your house, it had mentioned Gryffindor. Out of all the houses, Gryffindor was the house to be in. Gryffindor made stars, and was home to many famous witches and wizards.
James was a leader. He became Prefect in his fifth year and Head Boy in his sixth year, and was the youngest Quidditch player in a hundred years to be made Captain of the Gryffindor team. He was a good friend - always loyal, always listening to the side of everyone's conversations, always making sure everyone was involved. He was a gentleman - when he had his heart set on someone, he knew exactly what to do and how to treat her right (in the later years, of course). Your mother and father were extremely proud of him.
You yourself were somewhat similar, as his younger sister, but you always envied him for finding most things in life easy. James had every opportunity laid out for him. You, however, had to work hard if you wanted something, sometimes twice as hard as the average student; hence why the hat placed you in Slytherin.
Being in Slytherin and being a Potter caused quite an uproar your first year at Hogwarts. Everyone in Slytherin had a bone to pick with James, based on whatever prank he and his friends had done on the house. Because of this, everyone had some kind of opinion on you, except for the first years, who knew nothing better but to be your friend.
You had met your first ever friend on the Hogwarts Express. James had brought you to sit with his friends, the "Marauders", as they liked to call themselves. You'd spent two Christmases with them before coming to Hogwarts, and honestly, they were pretty stuck-up, especially Remus, who was some sort of care-home yob, and glared at you every time you spoke.
Eventually, you left the carriage, telling James you wanted to make some new friends. He didn't mind, and jokingly told you not to make friends with the "wrong sort", although you didn't really know what that meant.
All of the carriages were full of people who looked older than you and scarier. You walked further down the train, wondering why some students were staring at you. You ignored them, looking through all of the carriages. Finally, after quite some time, you came across a carriage that was almost empty.
A small boy was sitting on the left side of the carriage, reading a book about Ancient Runes. You smiled, he looked so peaceful compared to everyone else; and he was your age. You put your hand to the door and knocked. He looked up, frowning.
The small boy put his book down and got up. He opened the door, "what do you want?" His dark eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You smiled apologetically, "I was just looking for a place to sit. My brother and his friends are a bit annoying." The small boy looked you up and down and stepped aside. "You can sit with me."
"My brother and his friends are a bit stuck up, too. I met them on the platform. My name's Regulus, by the way. Regulus Black."
Your eyes widened. This was Regulus Black? The brother that Sirius Black despised so much? Well, he didn't seem quite so decietful and troll-like after all, but perhaps siblings just disagreed with each other. You wondered why he was all by himself.
"I enjoy my own company, normally, but mother said to make friends. You seem like a respectable enough witch... Would you mind telling me your name?" You tried not to giggle at how Regulus spoke. You'd never heard a ten-year-old speak so posh before. You smiled, "YN Potter, nice to meet you."
Regulus's eyes darkened but he shook his head. "You're not bad for a Potter. Let's be friends." Regulus Black held out his hand, and you shook it, sitting down next to him.
The train continued to move through Scotland. "I'm afraid I'll be put in Slytherin," you said after awhile, putting your head in your hands, "all of my family's been in Gryffindor for thousands of years, but the other day dad joked that I was more cunning than bold."
Regulus looked at you, "I think what you did earlier was pretty bold." You scoffed, "what, asking you if I could sit with you?" He grinned and nodded, "yeah. Do you know how many people avoided me just then before you got here? Even in the Slytherin carriage they think I'm some sort of a freak." You frowned, "I don't think you're a freak. You're just a regular kid to me."
Regulus pulled a face, "I'll have you know I'm the second heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, an extremely respectable and non-regular young wizard." You let out a snort of a laugh, "what kind of kid has to be respectable?!" Before covering your mouth. Regulus smiled at you, "the ones who don't snort like that." You giggled.
Regulus started to get more comfortable. "All of my family's been in Slytherin for thousands of years, just like how yours is with Gryffindor. When Sirius was put in Gryffindor two years ago mum went absolutely ballistic. Maybe I might be put in Gryffindor too, but I think I'll probably be in Slytherin... I wish I was brave enough to run away."
You snorted again, "I wish I was brave enough to be in Gryffindor." Regulus laughed loudly. You turned to him, "if I am put in Slytherin, it won't be so bad if I'm with you." And he smiled.
And you were right. With Regulus by your side, you found it easy making friends in first year. Everyone in Slytherin was a pureblood, and was either scared of him (which you thought was truly ridiculous) or they respected him.
As the years went by, it was clear to most people that the two of you were as close as two peas in a pod. You were often seen together so much that on the rare occasions where you weren't together, you were asked where the other one was.
It was in your third year where you realised your feelings for the youngest Black brother was not just those of friendship, but something much stronger. As your crush grew and your Slytherin friends teased you about it, you began to worry and think of what would happen if you were to date Regulus, and what would happen when your big brother and his best friend found out that you were dating the little brother that he despised so.
And in fourth year, as if nudging these events into reality even further, you and Regulus began to date. In fifth year, the two of you became prefects and Quidditch Captains, and it was clear that you were a powerful unstoppable couple. Despite this, however, some people still did not agree with the dynamic of your relationship.
It was during lunch in the middle of your fifth year did the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor really take its poll.
The war was almost in full motion, and it was obvious to anyone with brains that Voldemort did not have good intentions. There had been whispers in the Slytherin Common Room of some older students who had joined Voldemort's side through some kind of ritual.
James and Sirius were convinced that Regulus was one of these people, and as usual, had convinced themselves that they were right.
"What exactly are you trying to say, James?" You snapped. Your older brother put his hands up in surrender. "Don't get mad at me, I'm just the messenger. Padfoot thinks you should reconsider your relationship with Regulus, that's all." Merlin, were you glad that Reg was out in the pitch training. Sometimes his mad Quidditch obsession was a good thing.
You turned to Sirius now, "you think that, do you?" And Sirius shrugged. James jumped in quickly, keen to stop an argument from happening.
"Well you know how Padfoot's family are all very... Traditional," James was picking his words carefully, watching your facial expressions, "and he told me the other day that his folks had been talking about some dark lord for a long time, like, ever since second year, and how they were all going to join him and support him, and Padfoot was just saying-"
"Regulus is bound to join up!" Sirius butted in. James turned to him and sighed. You looked at him. "He means well, but he's easily coeerced into things, and he's always trying to impress mother, and they always brainwash him, I mean, just look at Bella."
You scowled. Sirius's parents may have been horrible people, but that didn't mean everyone else in his family was. Okay, perhaps one or two of his cousins had done some nasty things in the past, and Bellatrix was one of them, but you would always remember her as the girl who cursed some older students for boxing your ears. She'd said any friend of Regulus was a friend of hers and that you could count on her.
"Bella is a perfectly kind and respectable witch. She's really nice, actually." Sirius rolled his eyes at this. "Well, whatever, but don't come crying to me when your boyfriend has suddenly run off to join Voldemort. I'm telling you, all of them are like that. You know, at least ninety percent of Slytherin house are evil!" Sirius threw his arms up and you began to fume.
"But you always forget the main thing, don't you, Black?!" Typical Sirius Black to hate something but to leave an exception. "I'm a Slytherin too! You think we're all just so evil, do you? You think all of us want to join Voldemort? Since Regulus apparently will, maybe I will to PROVE YOU WRONG, you righteous, narcissistic cunt!"
Lily and Marlene gasped but you didn't care. Sirius scoffed even louder. "Oh, that's rich, coming from YN "I don't want to be a Slytherin" Potter! But I suppose after snogging my dear brother everything's fine, is it? Suppose the death eaters will just have to snog you to convince you to join up-"
"CONFRINGO!" The Gryffindors shrieked loudly at the sudden spell. Sirius flew backwards, knocking down the students who were sitting next to him and you knew who it was immeadietly. Regulus was always rather powerful with his magic.
Sirius got up and glared at his younger brother, taking out his wand. Regulus held his chin high, "don't you say a word against my girlfriend." And Sirius scoffed. "Is she really your girlfriend, or is she just someone who you lock lips with in your bed? LEVICORPUS!"
You dove infront of Regulus just before you saw Sirius wave his wand, but forgot to take out your own, and now you were hovering in the air. James let out an enraged roar, getting up. "WHAT THE FUCK, PADFOOT! DID YOU JUST CURSE MY FUCKING SISTER?!" You didn't think you'd ever heard him be so mad before.
Sirius glared at him, "I was trying to get Regulus, but the little weasel doged it just like everything else in his life!" You tried to fight the enchantment, "GO FUCK YOURSELF, BLACK!" kicking at the air. The other students laughed.
"Expelliarmus!" Regulus flicked his wand and Sirius's wand flew out of his hand. "You're just as bad as mother," Regulus hissed, "cursing an innocent person." Sirius rolled his eyes, "oh, I'm as bad as mother? Who's the one still grovelling about her knees and begging for her admiration?! Who's the one who-"
"CAN THE TWO OF YOU JUST SHUT UP AND PUT MY SISTER BACK? FINITE INCANTATUM!" James wove his wand angrily, and you fell back down to the ground. The school had stopped laughing now, and were all just watching intently.
Regulus turned to you, "are you okay?" You dusted yourself off and nodded, "I'm good." You turned to Sirius. "Not that it's any of your business, but Regulus is my boyfriend and I love him. So if you can't deal with that you can just get lost."
James looked the two of you up and down before nodding solemnly. He turned to you, "YN, Regulus, I'm sorry. I didn't see it before, but I do now, and I can tell that you're in love. So, what I'm trying to say is, if you want to be together, I don't have a problem with it anymore." James nodded at Regulus, who still looked a bit taken aback that he was being addressed.
Sirius scowled, "I still do."
This time it was Regulus who rolled his eyes. He then turned to you and grinned, "since you've got such a problem with it, Sirius, watch this." You looked at Regulus in confusion before getting the memo and grinning. Regulus smiled too, grabbing your waist and leaning in, kissing you on the lips. Slytherin house cheered as the others stared in shock.
Sirius scoffed in disbelief, "whatever." And you smiled, kissing Regulus again. James made a sound, "you better remove Regulus from my sister, Padfoot, or you won't have a brother anymore." You giggled softly, threading your fingers through Regulus's dark curls before looking up into his green eyes and pulling away.
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST
NAVIGATION
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thisisourlovestory · 4 months
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Safe and Sound
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Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU
Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.
Wordcount- 3.1k
Notes: Sorry this one was so late, it was just not chaptering but it's here now so enjoy!
Chapter 5
My heels clicked as I walked across the stone floor. My dress swirling around in the light breeze that flowed through the opening at the other end of the room. I felt eyes on me as I walked. So many eyes. All latching onto me and following my every movement. I locked my own gaze on the horses. Beautiful creatures, tall, strong and powerful. I stopped next to the chariot I would be riding in and stroked the horses pulling it. I found myself drawn towards the one on the left. His depthless black eyes pierced my skin. I felt as if he knew everything I was feeling, everything I thought, everything I had done. I stood directly in front of him. My own eyes locked on his as I lifted my hand to stroke his face. Dark fur like velvet under my touch. He nickered quietly, hooves pawing at the ground. 
“It's okay. It's okay.” I soothe him gently. “I'm a friend, I won't hurt you.” I hold his head and stroke along his nose to calm him down as I chatter mindlessly to him. “You're very beautiful, you know. I'd love to see you free, running in the wild. I'm sure it would be a sight to behold, you in the meadows. I think you'd like that, meadows are pretty. Especially if they have lots of flowers, my favourites are the blue and purple ones. Then again you might eat the flowers.“ I frown. “I don't know if flowers are good for horses so you maybe shouldn't eat them.” He snorted as if laughing at me and I smiled before turning around and taking a step forward. Immediately, eyes were on me again, assessing, questioning, some downright sadistic- as if they were already plotting how to kill me. I shuffled nervously on my feet, putting my hands behind my back and fiddling with my fingers as I peered around curiously myself, Cashmere and Gloss were stood chatting to Enobaria and Brutus, their sneering expressions as they glanced over me giving away exactly what they were talking about. Other tributes were milling around, chatting to each other quietly, trying to not draw attention to themselves. I decided to mingle a bit, I meandered through the room, not looking directly at anyone but nodding hello or raising a hand in greeting. Without realising it I somehow ended up by the district 12 tributes, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The winners of last year's games, the star crossed lovers. I gave them both a quick nod and turned, in doing so I lost my balance and wobbled, almost falling over but Katniss grabbed my arm and righted me. 
“Thank you.” I muttered. She said nothing in response so I thanked her again awkwardly and made to walk away. 
“Wait,” I turned to see her holding a hand out to me. “You're Y/N right. The winner of the 68th.” I nodded.
“Yes, I am.” 
“I remember the year you won. I watched your entire games. You won by killing the three career tributes didn't you.“ I shivered at the reminder and replied softly. 
“Yes.” 
“Nobody thought you would be the one to win. I didn’t either. Thought it would be the district 2 boy.” I laughed lightly. 
“That makes two of us.” I stopped for a second before continuing. “I know you don't know me or anything but for what it’s worth I’m sorry you have to do this again. You and Peeta. You don't deserve it.”
“None of us should have to do this.” Peeta interrupted. “None of us.” I quirked an eyebrow as I studied him. His face set in a stony expression. 
“You shouldn't have won either but you did and here we all are again.” I turned away from him to face Katniss again. “And what you did for your sister last year was brave.”
“What you did for Annie this year was brave.” She countered. I hummed
“How do you know I didn't do it for glory?”
“Because none of us want to go back in there.” I studied her, a sad smile on my lips.
“That's not entirely true.” She looked confused for a second and I shook my head. “Some of us want to go back in, not for the reasons you're thinking, not for glory or bragging rights. Some of us just want to protect other people.” I shook my head slightly, my hair falling over my shoulders. “Like him,” I nodded to Peeta who was petting the horses,”He wants to protect you and he didn't want Haymitch to go back in because he would have probably died.“ She gazed at me for a second. 
“So you volunteered to protect someone as well.” I stared back at her. 
“I didn't mean to volunteer. It just happened.” She opened her mouth to respond but we heard a scream of my name from across the room. I turned and was immediately enveloped in a huge hug, my face filled with coiffed hair and I spluttered as it covered my mouth and nose.  
“Effie, hair. Face. Hair. Breathing.” I stuttered out, Effie pulled away from me and gasped. 
“Oh you look so beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous!.” She grasped the fabric of my dress and inspected it closely. “The stitching is impeccable and this colour is so lovely on you.” 
“Wait a minute, how do you three know each other?” Katniss interjected.
“We met when I was in the games, Effie loved me from the start because according to her I was ‘just so adorable’ and Haymitch warmed up to me after a while. But we’re only acquaintances, very rarely see each other.” She looked sceptical but nodded anyway.
“Effie’s right kid. You look pretty incredible. They'll all love you out there.” Haymitch said from behind, patting me on the back. “How’ve you been doing?” I shrugged. “Come on, something must have happened since we last saw you. It's been what, three, four years since you refused to see us again?” 
“Four years, eight months and twenty seven days.” I muttered, looking down at the floor and laughed awkwardly. “There have been some tough moments, nightmares that you can never get rid of, but other than those I've been fine. Same as I always was. Same as I always will be.” I squinted at him. “What about you?” 
“We’ve been very busy looking after these two and making sure they are adapting well to life as victors but other than that it's been much the same as usual.” Effie chimed in, sending a glare Haymitch's way and mouthing something I couldn't discern. Haymitch rolled his eyes at her and spoke to me as she fussed over Katniss.
“You volunteered. I thought you said nothing could ever make you come back.” I looked down.
“I lied.”
“I don't know why you did it kid and I know you won't tell me because you don't get close to people if you can help it, so just,” He  sighed, ”Just try and stay alive as long as you can alright.” He patted me on the back again and went to talk to Peeta as Effie 
“I have missed you like you wouldn't imagine darling. Although I did see you dancing a few times, it was so graceful and beautiful.” She covered her mouth. “You've grown up so much. Now where is that escort of yours, Lysander?” I shrugged again. 
“Don’t know. Probably hounding Finnick or something.” Effie let out a loud sigh. 
“He really is useless. Utterly useless. And I’ve told him that before you know. But apparently my advice is meaningless! Does he even know what his job is? It’s to help you win by getting you sponsors. And ignoring you completely is not the way to help.” 
“It’s okay. Finnick has got the better chance of survival anyway, it makes more sense to focus on him.” Haymitch sent me a look.
“Do not look at me like that. I'm going to try my best but let's be honest it's not going to be enough.” I scrunched my nose up and tipped my head to Katniss. “See you out there girl on fire. It's been a pleasure meeting you.” She shook my hand.
“See you out there.”
“And you Peeta.” I called out to him. “We’ll all bump into each other again at some point I'm sure.” With that I walked off, leaving them all staring at my back in surprise. I let out a shuddering breath as I leaned against a wall, my head tipping back and my eyes shutting in a moment of peace that was over as soon as it began when they called us all to our chariots. I pushed myself off the wall and made my way back over to the horses and chariot, stroking their noses quickly before being helped up into the chariot. Dark metal and deep blue flowers at the front to represent District 4. I picked a petal and smoothed it over with the pads of my fingers, smooth and velvety. I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped, turning to face a smirking Finnick. 
“Sugarcube?” He asked, holding them out to me. I took one hesitantly and bit into it, the sweetness spread across my tongue, coating my entire mouth. 
“Thank you.” I mumbled, sucking the rest into my cheek. Unfortunately, I finally clocked what he was wearing, or lack thereof, and almost choked on the sugar as I inhaled sharply and swallowed at the same time. I had been prepared for this to happen. But clearly not as prepared as I had thought I would be. Because there stood Finnick Odair, still smirking, biting a sugarcube with his back teeth, dressed in nothing more than a golden net tied in a knot to secure it around his waist. He was perhaps the closest thing to naked I’d ever seen a person be before, I thought to myself idly and swallowed again, the grains of sugar scratching my throat. I averted my gaze quickly as I felt heat rising in my cheeks and resolutely stared anywhere but at him. He laughed next to me.
“I didn't expect that.” I admitted quietly. “I thought you'd at least be wearing actual clothes.” I peeked at him for a second, the man was built like a greek god. All muscle and tan skin and just unfairly perfect. 
“My stylist is of the belief that the more they see of me the better.” He held out a hand towards me. “I don't think we've been properly formally introduced. I'm Finnick Odair.” My heart broke in my chest at his words but I shook his hand and whispered my own name back as the chariots began to move forwards. I smoothed out the creases in the delicate fabric of my dress and plastered a pleasant expression on my face just as the noise of the Capitol hit my ears. And we were out. Parading down the Avenue of Tributes with people cheering for us yet again, but this time multiplied by a million. It was the one event of the week that every single person in the Capitol came to see and they all blurred together in a mass of whirling colours. I smiled faintly and tapped a small raised gem sewn into the sleeve of my dress. Immediately, water began to trickle down from my tiara. It seemed to have a life of its own and left cold trails on my skin. It touched the fabric of my dress and a brilliant blue bloomed from the patch. As it trickled further down, the rest of my dress turned similar shades until the water stopped flowing and collected in a pool at the hem of my dress, dripping slightly and leaving a damp patch on the surface of the chariot. I gazed up at myself on the projections as the people went wild and threw flowers at us, hollering for our attention. The top of the dress had become a dark blue the colour of the deepest parts of the ocean and it faded into a powdery blue the colour of the flowers that had lined my mothers porch years ago. I looked like a queen of the sea. My dress was a representation of the ocean and of District 4, of my home. Megara had outdone herself and I would wear it with pride. So I waved and blew kisses to people, a smile as bright as the sun on my face. I could hear the commentary vaguely in the background. Exclamations of how they had never quite seen something like that before, how beautiful the dress was, how perfect it was for me, for their angel. Others had attempted to copy the artificial flames but compared to the original they seemed like cheap knockoffs. Hardly impressive. I could understand why Megara would use water then, to make a different statement. Fire had already been seen, it was old, except for on district 12. But water, the opposite of fire. They had never seen that before and it really helped that she was styling for our district. And yet when Katniss and Peeta emerged, dressed in a blazing inferno, I was forgotten. As expected the attention all shifted to the star crossed lovers of district 12. Not that I could blame them, they were a sight to behold, even more dramatic than last year. The chariots circled and everyone waved up to President Snow. I simply nodded my head towards him, my gaze cold. Eventually we came to a stop in a semi circle and President Snow stepped up to the podium overhead.
“Welcome all to the 75th Hunger Games. We thank our tributes for their great sacrifice. We shall be sad to see them go.” With that he sends us on our way, we roll out and back where we came from. I leapt out as soon as we passed the entry way, my dress dragging along the floor, dust sticking to the damp fabric. I saw Mags waiting and brushed past her without a glance. I walked around for a bit, the architecture of the building was so new, it was clear they had it built especially for us. It was like a fortress, cameras everywhere, the thickest glass they could have found for windows, doors that couldn't be opened unless the guard stood next to them opened them for you and white walls all around. It wasn't just a training centre. It was a cage, our cage for the next week. 
I laughed. They really didn't want us going anywhere at all. And they weren't taking any chances if they could help it. They could mask it with pretences of hospitality and wishing for us to enjoy our stay but even a blind man could see that this was a prison, and one made specifically to keep us in. I pressed a button on the wall and stepped into the elevator. Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch all greeted me with nods and Johanna grinned widely at me as we started moving upwards. 
“Well well well. If it isn't the little princess. Tell me, how's life been treating you in the Capitol?” She asked, venom dripping from each word. I regarded her silently, assessing as she stripped off her dress. She had never liked me. She thought I was just some pretty little doll that the Capitol kept and never touched. They all thought that though, each and every victor knew I danced and sang and that was it. They had never been so wrong in their lives. But who was I to tell them that? It's not as if they would listen to anything I had to say. 
“Life has been,” I paused, “It's been wonderful.” I watched her eyes darken with anger as she pulled off the last of her dress, leaving it in a heap on the floor. She quickly turned to Katniss and Peeta, flashed a cat-like grin.
“Thanks. This has been fun, we should do it again sometime.” With that she flounced out of the open doors. Haymitch whistled.
“Thank you.” Katniss sent him a disgusted look and I disguised a laugh with a cough. As much as I disliked her I could admire her. She was everything the Capitol didn't want her to be and the looks on Katniss and Peetas faces were something. She was confused, he was almost impressed and Haymitch was just like me, trying to not laugh out loud at their reactions
“Johanna Mason, district 7. Won the 71st games by pretending to be weak and then killing the remaining tributes with her axe. Delightful girl.” I rolled my eyes.
“Except for if she hates your guts. So try and get her to like you.” Peeta glanced at me.
“What do you mean?”
“If I know one thing about Johanna Mason, and I think I do. It's that she doesn't care about anyone or anything. And I'm pretty sure she has a hitlist and I'm number 1 on it.” 
Before they could answer, the doors opened again and they all got out without a word, leaving me alone to go down again. I leant against the glass, looking out to see peacekeepers crawling about like insects, escorts rushing around for no reason whatsoever, tributes and mentors staying well away from the two former as if they were the plague. The doors pinged open and I made my way down the corridor. I pushed through the double doors and was met with expectant looks from everyone. Mags, Lysander and Finnick all sat at the table. 
“I'm not hungry.” I said quickly before they could even ask me to sit. 
I practically ran to my room and threw myself on the bed, silk sheets scrunching up under my weight. The door clicked open and I looked up to see Megara standing there with an eyebrow raised.
“They want me to convince you to come out. But I've got better plans for tonight.” She pulled out two tubs of ice cream and a plate of intricately decorated cakes and biscuits. She set them down on the table and waved me over. 
“First of all, get changed. There's clothes in the drawers. Second, by my logic if they really wanted you to sit and eat dinner with them they would do it themselves. Third, I brought food,” She picked up a spoon and dug into a tub of ice cream, “And I'm not waiting for you to start. Plus,” She grinned, teeth coated in chocolate,”I want to know everything.”
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bellaxgiornata · 1 month
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Safe Haven [Chapter Seventeen]
Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.9k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers
a/n: Finally y'all get the other part of the night after that meeting with Birdy, Frank, and Jimmy! Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @danzer8705 @mattys-rat1989 @kezibear
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Arms wrapped tight over your chest, you began to make your way down the drive as the bitter wind blew around you. Behind you, you heard the sound of Michael closing Birdy's front door before his heavy footsteps soon caught up with you along the pavement. Your anticipation of an angry outburst from him only rose with each thump of his boots, the hammering of your heart pounding in sync with them. 
“What were ya thinkin’ goin’ out like that alone, Grace?” Michael hissed out between his teeth as he fell in step beside you. “D'ya have any idea how reckless that was? How close ya could've been to gettin’ yourself killed tonight?”
You blew out a rough breath in frustration, your eyes focused on your own feet as you walked. Of course you were aware of how stupid and dangerous it had been for you to meet that Serpent alone, but you hadn't really had another option. And it certainly wasn't like you wanted to go to that meeting, either. 
Glancing over your shoulder, you took in the sight of Michael beside you. Despite the way the tension had eased from his body and the way the fire had mostly left his eyes once he'd gotten away from his family, you could still see the fear and anger lingering in them as the lights from the Garda car parked farther down the street lit him in a wash of blue and red. 
“Of course I damn well know that it was dangerous,” you told him. “But I didn't have a choice. He knows who I am. And not only that, but Birdy was the one to see him leaving the letter to meet him in my sister’s letterbox , Michael. Meaning he knows where both her and I live. What was I supposed to do?” you asked, irritation in your own voice. “Was I just supposed to ignore the letter and put my sister in danger? Because that seemed like the far more reckless and stupid option.”
“No, I wouldn't expect ya to just ignore it,” he snapped back, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “But ya saw me before ya were headin’ out. Ya should’ve damn well said somethin’ to me! Ya shouldn't have dealt with this alone!” 
“It was my problem to deal with!” you snapped back, keeping your voice low so as not to draw attention from the Garda. “I didn't come to Dublin expecting help with my situation! And I'm sure as shit glad I didn't say anything to you because I'm sure that Serpent would've happily shot you on sight if you'd come with me tonight!”
Michael loosed an irritated grunt at your words as he followed you up your sister’s drive. Her car was parked in front of the house and the sight of it shot a pang of guilt through you. You'd told her you were going out to work at a coffee shop before her shift at the hospital ended, and that had been quite awhile ago now. With everything that had happened tonight, you'd forgotten to let her know that you were alright. She was probably worried about you by now, wondering what coffee shop was open quite this late at night.
“I can take care of myself,” Michael said, his tone sharp. “It isn't your job to look out for me.”
Your teeth grit together as your hand dug into your pants pocket, feeling for the key to Megan's house as the pair of you approached the front door. As much as you'd felt safe with Michael lately, your situation wasn't his to take on. Especially with what he already had going on with his family and his health. You weren't going to dump your problems onto him, too.
“Well it isn't your job to look out for me, either,” you shot back. “I'd been doing just–just fine on my own for years, Michael. I don't need you or your family risking your lives for me.” Your hand shook as you inserted the key into the lock, intentionally keeping your focus away from him. “I don't need anymore people’s lives weighing on my conscience.”
You twisted the door handle with more roughness than necessary, pushing the door open and eager for a chance to get away from Michael’s wrath for the night. You just wanted to end this shitty day already, but his hand darted out and grabbed you by the wrist, halting you in place on the front step. Your head turned sharply in his direction, prepared to tell him to leave you alone tonight, but the unexpected softness on his face immediately gave you pause. 
“Grace, I–”
“Oh my God ,” Megan's voice rang through the house, cutting Michael clean off. “You've been gone for hours! Where the hell have you been? I was starting to get–”
Megan appeared around the corner from the kitchen and immediately stopped dead in her tracks when she saw you. Her eyes darted from you to Michael and then straight to the bandage on your forehead. Her mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide.
“What the hell happened?” she asked you. Her panicked gaze shifted to Michael before you could even answer as she roughly demanded, “What the hell happened to her? Why is she coming home with a bandage?”
“Nothing to worry yourself about,” you grumbled as you stepped into the house, slipping loose from Michael’s grasp before you began to take off your boots. “So leave him out of it.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Megan’s face contort into something stern as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her hardened stare fixed on Michael as he stepped inside the house a moment later, closing the door softly behind himself. Inwardly you braced yourself for another outburst–this time from your sister. 
“Like hell I'm leaving him out of this!” she exclaimed, throwing a hand in his direction. “I’m not stupid, Grace. I know you weren’t at a coffee shop writing tonight. You don’t even have your laptop with you! And then you come home late with a bandage on your forehead that I damn well know wasn’t there the last time I saw you! So what the hell is going on? How’d you get hurt? And one of you better fucking answer me with the damn truth!”
“A low ranking Serpent discovered who I actually am,” you said with a sigh, pulling your last boot off of your foot. “He left a message for me to meet with him tonight in the letterbox. Birdy saw him. I didn’t exactly have a choice to not go considering what he already knew. I didn't want to worry or involve you which is why I said I’d be at the coffee shop.”
Megan immediately sucked in a sharp breath, her entire body freezing. For a moment the only sound was Michael behind you, slowly taking his own boots off. Apparently he wasn’t done reprimanding you for the evening.
“So does that mean you need to leave again? Find somewhere new to hide?” she breathed out, her body still stiff. “Is he telling the entire charter? Is Victor on his way?”
You shook your head, running a tired hand along your forehead, careful to avoid the wounded side of it. Everything was finally beginning to catch up to you from today, your body starting to feel completely exhausted from all the stress and fear. You just wanted to collapse on your bed and maybe–if you were lucky–fall into a dreamless sleep where you could forget about absolutely everything for just a short while.
“I’m not leaving, not just yet,” you assured her, brushing past her and making your way down the hall to the sitting room. “He’s after something else and he’s just trying to threaten me with calling in Victor for now.”
“And is that supposed to make me feel any better?” she asked, following closely on your heels. “What could he possibly want from you?”
You sunk into the cushions of the sofa, your body aching as you did. As your attention shifted towards your sister, you spotted Michael entering the room just over her shoulder. He leant against the doorframe to the sitting room, hanging his head almost shamefully as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Me,” Michael muttered. “He wants me.”
Megan’s brows arched up onto her forehead in surprise, her head turning over her shoulder to focus on Michael curiously. 
“I can’t give ya any details–family business and all,” he explained, his voice quiet. “But he’s after me. It’s my fault he’s after your sister, that he even knows who she is.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you shook your head. “No, that’s not true,” you disagreed. “He’s after me because of my psychotic ex. This has nothing to do with you.”
Michael’s head rose, his sad eyes meeting yours from across the room. The frustration you’d felt towards him a few minutes ago quickly dissipated at the sight of the pain visible on his face.
“But he was the one tailin’ us after I took ya out for coffee, wasn’t he? That’s how he found out ‘bout ya, isn’t it?” Michael pressed. “He was after me and found ya in the process. So it's my fault he knows who ya really are.”
You pulled a face immediately, your mouth opening to counter his argument. But Megan held out her hands, the gesture quieting both of you.
“Let's not turn this into a battle of who's to blame,” she said, turning her focus back on you. “So the problem stands that someone in the nearby charter knows you’re Victor’s ex and that you’re here. What the hell is being done about that? Because I’m guessing you’re not about to give up your boyfriend to the MC.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you corrected her, your cheeks heating as you avoided Michael’s stare. “And yes, something is being figured out. Like I said, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. I’ll handle it, okay? But honestly after tonight, all I want to do is go to sleep. I’m fucking tired and I just…don’t want to think anymore. It’s late.”
“Fine,” Megan relented. “But are you okay?”
“Yes,” you assured her.
Megan’s eyes narrowed at you before she turned, focusing on Michael across the room. She threw a thumb in your direction and you rolled your eyes when she spoke.
“Is she really alright?” she asked him.
“Took a good hit to the head with the butt of a gun,” he told her, pausing when Megan let out a hiss. “But I think she’s alrigh’ despite that. Though I…was plannin’ on offerin’ to stay the night here if ya didn’t mind, Megan. Sleep on the sofa down here just to make sure that Serpent doesn’t show back up in the middle of the night or anythin’.” A sheepish smile crossed his lips as he added quietly, “I’d feel better knowin’ ya weren’t both here alone.”
“You know, I’d probably actually feel better if you stayed here too after finding all this out,” Megan told him. “So it’s fine by me. I can try to find some more comfortable pillows–”
“What’s there is already fine,” he assured her. “I don’t need anythin’ more, really.”
“Okay, well,” Megan began awkwardly, her eyes darting between you and Michael as she took a step back towards the staircase. “I’ll just go get ready for bed now that you’re finally home safe. I’ve got another early shift in the morning tomorrow.”
Michael nodded his head, smiling at her and murmuring a soft ‘goodnight.’ You watched as your sister made her way quietly up the stairs, shooting you a curious last glance over her shoulder before she disappeared from sight. And then it was just you and Michael in the room.
A silence fell over the pair of you as he remained standing over by the sitting room entrance. Your gaze fell to your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap, aware of the weight of the gun in your jacket pocket once again. Most likely in a few days you’d have to use it. And you certainly hoped you could, when the time came for it.
“I think I’m just going to head to bed,” you eventually said, breaking the silence when it started to feel suffocating. 
“Alrigh’,” Michael replied softly.
For the second time this evening you felt your stomach sink to your feet as you rose from the sofa. You were certain you’d somehow gone and messed things up with Michael when you’d lied to him about where you were going earlier and he’d found out. He'd certainly seemed pissed at you for that.
But maybe that’s for the best, you told yourself as you made your way up the stairs. Maybe I shouldn’t get attached. If I need to run again soon, feelings would just make that harder.
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Gasping for air, you woke up with a cold sheen of sweat covering your skin. Your eyes flew around the mostly darkened bedroom as you tried to orient yourself while your heart thundered away in your chest. Fear spiking within you at the lingering memory of his voice in your ear, you swore you could feel the cold blade of a knife pressed to your stomach. 
Feeling like the bedsheets themselves were trying to hold you down, you began wildly flailing in an attempt to throw them off of you, swinging your arms and feet as you tried to free yourself. A few tears slipped out of your eyes as you did, your panicked mind still replaying threats on repeat.
It was a few moments before you’d finally untangled yourself from the sheets, scrambling backwards against the headboard and sitting upright. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath, the back of your hand running along your sweat-dampened forehead gently.
“Just a nightmare,” you whispered to yourself. “Not real. He’s not here.”
But he’s looking for you. And this time he’s probably going to do more than add another scar if he finds you.
Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, your right hand reached down, sliding the hem of your shirt upwards a little. You lightly brushed your fingertips over the three gashes on your abdomen that had scarred over. A brand to your skin that you’d never be able to remove, permanently marking you as his . A strangled noise slipped out of you and you clamped your teeth down harder, trying to quiet the sound.
“Grace?”
You audibly gasped as your head spun towards the sound of your name, your pulse speeding at the fear of an intruder. But in the faint light filtering in past your curtains, you could make out the sight of Michael standing halfway in the doorway, a look of concern etched across his features.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya,” he whispered. “Just thought I heard somethin’ from downstairs and I figured I’d make sure things were alright’.”
“I’m fine,” you muttered, quickly lowering your shirt. “Just had a bad dream but I’m fine.”
The bedroom door swung open just a bit wider and you watched as Michael stepped slowly into the bedroom. The corners of your lips curved downwards as you continued to try to calm your breathing. If he was up here to lecture you again, you certainly weren’t interested in hearing it.
“D’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” he offered. 
“No,” you answered simply.
Michael nodded, taking another hesitant step into the bedroom and closing the door partially behind himself as he did. His other hand ran over the back of his neck as he ducked his head. You watched him wordlessly, drawing your legs up towards your chest.
“‘M’sorry ‘bout the way I went off on ya earlier,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that. Ya were scared and tryin’ to do what ya thought was right. But ya…ya scared me, if I’m bein’ honest.”
Your tongue darted out, licking your lips nervously. That was not what you’d expected to hear him say after the way things had played out earlier. 
“If somethin’ had happened to ya–especially because o’ me–I don't think I could forgive myself,” he murmured, shifting back and forth on his feet as he focused on the bedroom floor. 
“I told you already, it wasn't your fault,” you replied.
“Except it is,” he stated firmly, glancing up at you through the darkness. “That Serpent is lookin’ for a way to get to me. To kill me . And unfortunately you're gettin’ dragged into all my shit because of the things I did. And I can't forgive myself for that.” 
You hugged your arms around your knees, guilt flooding you as you pulled them tighter to your chest. You realized that he had probably reacted the way he had tonight because of the accident which had resulted in his ex-wife's passing. Something he didn't know you knew about yet. It made sense then why he was so determined to protect you, and why he refused to let you be the one to take the risk killing the Serpent. He didn’t want your death on his conscience, either. Because it was apparent he'd find a way to blame himself for it no matter what. 
“How about we both agree this mess is a combination of both of our problems?” you suggested quietly. 
“I would, but the difference is that I actually did things to deserve to be in this mess,” Michael told you. “Whereas ya didn't do anythin’ to deserve the fuckin’ shitty situation your ex has put ya in.”
“Okay,” you said, shooting him a sad smile, “I think I agree with what Megan said earlier. Let's not play the blame game. Pointing fingers at ourselves won't change the situation anyway.”
“Mmm,” Michael hummed. “I s'pose ya got a point.”
Another silence fell between the pair of you, though this one was vastly less uncomfortable than the previous one in the sitting room. You chewed your lip nervously as Michael stood beside your bed, his eyes clearly focused on you through the dark. His presence was beginning to soothe you the longer he stayed and you soon found yourself not wanting him to go back downstairs. Especially not after that nightmare. Despite your better judgment, you found yourself wanting to ask for what you really wanted for once. 
“Can I…ask you a favor?” you whispered. 
“Always,” Michael replied immediately. 
Eyes falling down towards the bed, one of your hands dropped down to your side. Nervously your fingers fidgeted with the sheets, twisting them as you tried to find the courage to ask him to stay here with you. Part of you knew it was safer and smarter to stop letting him get closer to you, especially with danger already looming on the horizon. But the other part of you craved the comfort he always somehow managed to bring you, something you hadn't felt in a long time. 
“Could you maybe…stay with me?” you asked, shyly looking back up at him. “Just for tonight?”
“O’course,” he answered. “I'm here whenever ya need me.”
Michael made his way around the foot of the bed, your eyes following his form through the darkness as he did. You saw him pull something out of the waistband at the back of his jeans, realizing a moment later it was the gun he'd had earlier. He set it onto the nightstand before he turned, adjusting the rumpled mess you'd made of the sheets on the bed and pulling them back up before he climbed onto the mattress himself. 
You began to slide back down along the headboard, rolling onto your side towards him and slipping back beneath the sheets. As he settled onto the mattress next to you, he turned onto his side, facing you in return. A bit of moonlight crept in just around the edge of your curtains, a thin ray of it illuminating part of his face in all the blackness. The corners of his lips were curved upwards just the faintest bit.
“Didn't think ya would want me with ya tonight,” Michael murmured.
Your stomach fluttered at his words and the position you'd found yourself in with him. Both of you were barely half a foot apart from each other now, eyes locked on one another. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him and heating you beneath the sheets. Your hand clutched tighter to your pillow as you fought the urge to wrap it around him and pull yourself closer to him instead, desperate for connection.
“You make me feel safe,” you confessed, the words falling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “And less alone. For the first time in a long time.”
Gradually Michael’s hand slipped up out of the sheets, reaching out towards you and gently landing on your cheek. His fingertips lightly brushed away a few strands of hair before they affectionately began to lightly stroke your skin. You could feel your heart beating harder in your chest under his touch, the sound of it loud to your own ears. Your skin was beginning to heat beneath his fingers and your own only curled tighter around your pillowcase.
“Ya do the same for me, pet,” he whispered back.
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You hadn't expected him to tell you that. You also hadn't expected it to feel so good to hear him tell you that, either.
Michael shifted on the bed, sliding closer to you as his palm cradled your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered shut the moment you felt his soft lips press a lingering kiss to your forehead. A warm, pleasant sensation felt like it was racing up your spine the longer his mouth remained pressed against your forehead. It was a feeling that felt a lot like safety and acceptance.
Without thinking, your hand released the pillow and darted out, wrapping its way around Michael as your fingers clutched at his back. You drew your body in tight against his, raising your head from the pillow as you did. Michael’s lips faltered along your forehead at the movement, but you quickly caught his lips with yours in his brief surprise.
He didn’t pull away or hesitate. Instead, his own mouth molded itself to yours, his hand sliding its way down your cheek and resting along your neck, pulling you in closer to him to deepen the kiss. He kissed you back with such intensity that your fingers fisted his shirt in your grasp, your mind going blank to everything except how good this moment felt. How good he made you feel.
But unfortunately the kiss ended far sooner than you'd have liked.
Michael pulled away only a fraction from you, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing the tip of yours. You could just make out the little smile on his lips in the dark, the sight almost leaving you as breathless as that kiss had.
“For what it's worth,” he whispered, thumb caressing the line of your jaw tenderly, “I'm glad ya found yourself here in Dublin.”
Your hand released the tight grip on his shirt, sliding its way up from out of the sheets and up towards his face. Your own fingertips gently toyed with the dark hairs of his beard, your eyes watching the smile on his face grow wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. What you wouldn’t give to always see him smile like that. 
“I'm glad I found you,” you whispered back. 
For however long I can have you.
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fuxuannie · 1 year
Note
oooooh if u need any ideas id love to read a fic where serval plays matchmaker for reader and gepard and its all mushy and cute
also random idea but maybe gepard draws one of his (lovely!) portraits for reader looll
* pairing : gepard x gender neutral reader
* prompt : servals main job is a performer, but who knew that she also works as cupid? (request ♡)
* authors note : I LOVE GEPARD AND SERVAL LANDAU SOOO MUCH those two are literally my faves.. gepard pls come home, clara appeared on my screen and i love her but baby pls <\3
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SERVAL looks at her brother GEPARD as he paints in his room, humming to himself as she leans on the doorframe as she silently watched him decorate the canvas with his creativity and paint. At first, what he was painting was unrecognizable, but once those little details came to life through his art - it wasn't hard to see exactly who he was painting.
"Oh? I didn't know you were such a passionate painter, Geppie." Serval giggled, watching him jolt at the fact someone was watching him the entire time. "Serval? What are you.." He clears his throat, trying to cover the canvas. "..Doing here.."
"It's my workshop, why else would I be here? The real question is, why are you trying to hide an obvious crush from your sister?" She says with a smile, walking past him and having him move away from the canvas. It was just as she suspected, those little details.. the choice of eye color, the smile and how they matched your features.
"Please don't do anything.." Gepard sighs, and Serval lets out a fake offended gasp. "I have never done anything of the sort!"
..But she never agreed.
In the next few days, while Gepard was with his sister outside, he'd find her talking to you. And Serval making some fake excuse about practice and leaves you with her brother. The first few times seemed purely coincidental, but Serval doesn't seem like the type to simply forget one of her greatest passions.
Next was how she was now more often than not talking to you and Gepard about things about each other. "Oh! (name), are you aware Gepard just loves to grow flowers? You should see what he's blooming in our garden!" or "Gepard! Do you know that (name) really likes to eat at this place called.."
But Serval wouldn't do this for just a crush. She appreciated how much joy and smile you brought to her dear brothers face, and it wasn't often that he broke his serious, Silvermane Guards leader routine. But when he talked about you, it was like he was describing the beauty of an Aeon. He truly loved you, respected you and would surrender his loyalty for you.
So she was absolutely overjoyed when you began to open up about your interest in a certain blonde, and now that she knew you both were interested, it was the final step.
"Geppie, meet me at the fountain today! Got something suuuper important to tell you."
"(name), I'd like to give you free tickets to my next concert today! Just meet me at the fountain."
And there at the agreed meeting place, Gepard grumbled to himself, his back turned to the city as he stared at the small letter glued to the fountain. "Hehe, I lied to you lil bro. ♡ Go tell them how you feel, maybe they have something to tell you too."
He was initially confused on what the other half of the letter meant, until the sounds of footsteps and a disappointed sigh came from behind him. "Servaaall.. you lied to mee.." Gepard paused, and immediately crumpled the letter in his hands. "Damn it."
You then notice Gepard standing by the fountain as well, a little confused with how busy he usually is and especially at this hour. "What brings you here?" You asked, seeing him turn around while pinching the bridge of his nose. "Nothing.. My sister.. I assume she set this up."
Ohhhh.
You blinked a few times and giggle. "Sounds like Serval.. You're usually not this available, wanna talk?" You asked, sitting on the basin of the fountain as he instead leaned on it slightly. "Sure.."
There were a few moments of odd but comforting silence, watching those of Belabog pass by. Underworld and Overworld now together as children who thought that clouds were but fairytale dreams now get to see the bright blue sky after pure darkness all their lives.
"Thank you." You said out of nowhere, kicking your feet as Gepard turns to face you while you were still focused on the people passing by. He smiles a little at how gentle and relaxed you looked. "For what?"
"For all you do. The people you protect.. the kindness you give.. everything." You say with a smile, the very same smile of every portrait he ever painted of you, how it radiated a sense of comfort and warmth that made his heart skip a beat.
He knows he's turning red, and you giggle a little at it. Your head shifts to lean on his shoulder, a small gulp coming from his end as his arm slings around your shoulder.
"You're.. you're welcome."
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leoniestarlee · 4 months
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Illyrian Assassin (1)
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Pairing: Azriel x OC Aurora
Word Count: 2.9k
Warning: past trauma, slow burn
currently writing a fanfic on here and wattpad! first time doing this, so fingers crossed I'm not too cheesy
--
The sun seeped into my room through the curtains like golden spears as I lazily opened my eyes to start the new day. I rolled over in my bed, only to be stopped by a small body snuggled up against my side, hazel-brown hair covering the little space left on my pillow. I smiled, pushing away the annoyance as I leaned down and kissed the top of Daisy's—my youngest sister—head. She wiggled around, her wings twitching behind her.
"Stop moving," a small voice groaned from my other side, making a stifled laugh escape my lips as I rolled over to come face to face with Willa—my middle sister—looking up at me with annoyance in her green eyes.
"Good morning to you too," I mused, wrapping my arms around her—careful to not hit her wings—before she could push me away. "You excited for today?"
She tried to push me away, using the strength her eleven-year-old self has, but to no luck, she gave up. "I don't like training with Cass. He's always grumpy when teaching me."
I barked out a laugh, pulling away from her and sitting up carefully to not wake up Daisy. "He was worse with me when we were younger," I said, pushing my chestnut hair back over my shoulders. "Honestly, I think he's just strict, when training, because he cares about you." I looked over my shoulder at her. "All he wants is to make sure you know how to fly and defend yourself. That's all I want for the both of you girls."
"When does Daisy get to start training?" she asked, pulling the fur blanket higher to keep away the cold of the morning.
I wiggled out of bed, avoiding legs and feet as I reached the end and stood up, groaning as I stretched out my sleepy muscles. "She's only seven, Willa. You didn't start training till you were ten." I picked up my coat from the floor, pushing my arms into the sleeves. "If we were back in the camp, you would've started when you were eight, like I did, but we came here before that could happen."
I walked around the bed, pulling the blanket up to tuck in Daisy as she continued to sleep with a light snore. Willa grumbled something about Cassian that I chose to ignore as I walked away from the bed, starting to pick up my clothes from the floor.
"Why do we have wings, but you don't?" Her question caught me off guard, my back straightening as I kept it facing her and my breath caught in my throat. It took everything in me to not reach behind me and touch the ridged edges of my back, where my wings once were.
I'd always wondered when one of them would ask me this question, always hoped they wouldn't. At their age, my horrid story would give them nightmares like my own. And that's something I never want for them to have.
"I'll tell you one day," I quietly said, collecting myself before facing her with a warm smile and pushing away the haunting memories. "I'll make you girls breakfast while you get ready for your morning lesson with Cass."
She rolled her eyes, throwing the blanket over her head as I laughed, walking out of the room. My feet echoed with each step as I walked down the hallway, the white walls bare, except for the few little drawings made by Willa and Daisy.
I dumped the clothes in a basket in the bathing room, where a tub sat under a window that faced the beautiful city of Velaris—my home. From here, I could see the smoke of chimneys that were working for the morning, some going out from the night.
"Can I wake up Daisy since I have to get up early?" Willa asked me, her voice bouncing off the walls.
I walked out of the bathing room, closing the door behind me. "I have no doubt your raised voice just woke her up," I teased, walking into the sitting room that opens up to the small kitchen and dining room. With only the three of us here, we only have a small apartment, which I don't mind.
The only people we have over are the usuals and the only people I trust around my sisters. Cassian joins us every morning for breakfast before training with Willa. Mor stops by randomly, usually with gifts for the girls that she loves as her own. Amren comes over every three days to teach the girls—and me, sometimes—on more advanced education, since I teach the girls the basics like reading and writing. Azriel, he comes over every few days but never stays away longer than three.
And Rhysand...he hasn't even met my little sisters. They were born after he'd gotten trapped Under the Mountain, which means he doesn't even know they exist. That reminder hurts because growing up, he was my closest friend. Within the first year of him becoming High Lord, he had allowed me to do the Blood Rite, even fought for my right after many, many camp Lords refused me. If it wasn't for him, I have no clue where I'd be today.
"Daisy is having a bath," Willa informed me, snapping me out of my pondering thoughts as she strolled into the room.
I took in a deep breath, grabbing the basket full of eggs off the counter. "Did you have one or just change into clean clothes without getting clean first?"
"All I did after my bath last night was go to sleep," she deadpaned, her pre-adolescent attitude gracing me today. "I'm not dirty."
I raised a brow at her, cracking two eggs onto the hot pan in front of me. "Did you know that when you sleep, you produce sweat and other body oils?"
"You sound like Amren," she muttered, flicking her loose hair over her shoulder as she walked toward the couch, and I cracked another three eggs.
"I really don't like this attitude," I grumbled, pushing the eggs around with a fork as I waited for them to cook.
After a few minutes of the eggs sizzling to fill the silence while Willa read and I leaned against the counter, the lock on the front door clicked and pushed open, revealing my tall bastard brother, his black, shoulder-length hair in a small low bun as his wings poke over his shoulders and Illyrian training leathers covered his muscled, golden-brown skin.
"How are my favorite girls this morning?" Cassian said in a way of greeting with a broad smile.
I scooped the eggs out evenly on four plates. "Willa is awake and ready for training while Dase is in the bath," I informed him, putting the dirty pan in the sink. I'll wash it later when I get time.
"And what about you? How are you, Aurora?" He always asked that. Whenever I'd answer for the girls and not myself, he'd ask again until I'd tell him.
"Tired, but once I have a coffee and bath, I'll be ready for the day," I answered him honestly, knowing that he always somehow knew when I was lying. And I wasn't lying today—I'm exhausted after being up most of the night to clean up the apartment after arts and crafts with the girls at dinner last night.
"You're not telling me—"
"I don't want to train today," Willa groaned, cutting him off, the sound of her book closing harshly followed.
I sent her a warning look as I picked up two plates, walking toward the table where Cassian leaned behind a chair. "You're an Illyrian, Willa. Be more appreciative that Cassian is training you."
Cassian waved a hand, sitting down as I placed a plate before him and one across from him. "She's becoming an adolescent. I remember how moody you were at her age—how many males you—"
"Cassian," I murmured in warning, his eyes flaring with playfulness. "Those are stories not meant for her ears."
"Right," he drawled with a grin. Cauldron save me.
"Willa, food is ready," I informed her, heading back into the kitchen as Daisy skipped into the room, a pink dress flowing around her as she smiled up at me. "Good morning," I mused.
"Morning, Rory," she chirped, eyes darting to the plate of eggs on the counter. "Can I have some?"
"Of course," I said to her, picking up a plate. "You need to eat up because we're going to start reading a new book today."
Her eyes lit up, making my heart warm in my chest as she followed me to the table. I placed down her plate of eggs next to Willa, leaving the three of them to eat as I walked back to the kitchen. Before I could eat my food, I threw my hair into a messy bun and splashed some water on my face, the sound of Cassian quietly talking to the girls about more of our culture in the background.
I rarely spoke about our culture to the girls. For me, it was always a hard topic, even if I'm proud to be an Illyrian, it still came with my own horrific memories. I'm just glad Cassian was here to take that place for me, to tell them about the good parts, like our warrior gods and the food from our own people. Willa and Daisy are full Illyrian, with our mother and their father being Illyrian. Me on the other hand, I'm half Illyrian and half High Fae. I can thank my unknown father for my pointed ears.
I placed my plate on the table beside Cassian before heading back to my room and grabbing a hairbrush and two leather bands to do Willa and Daisy's hair.
As I walked back into the dining room, the front door opened again, and I couldn't help the smile on my face as he walked in with a brown paper bag in hand. My eyes drifted around his classically beautiful, but near-unreadable face. The planes of his face have always been and will be, elegant. His hazel eyes locked with mine, a small smile on his sensuous lips.
"Good morning, Az," I greeted him as he closed the door behind him, his wings tucked in tight behind his back. I stood behind Willa, brushing the hairbrush through her knots as she ate.
"Morning, Rora," he softly said with a nod. "Morning girls." He nodded to them, walking to the head of the table and putting the brown paper bag down, ignoring Cassian's glare for not greeting him. "I brought chocolate pastries."
"Yay!" Dase cheered, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed the bag. "Chocolate is my favorite."
"Mine too," Willa said dreamily, holding her hand out to Dase who gave her a pastry.
I got to work on a tight braid in Willa's hair as I said to them, "And what do we say to Azriel for the pastry?"
"Thank you," my sisters said in union before biting into the pastries.
I smiled at them both, finishing the braid in Willa's hair before starting Daisy's. "Willa is training with Cass today and Daisy is starting a new book with me," I informed Az as he sat down next to Cass. "Any plans for you?"
"Just the usual work," he simply said, glancing down at the eggs before looking at Willa. "Is he going easy on you?"
"No," Willa grumbled, sending a small glare to Cassian who only laughed in response. He's used to her little attitude by now. "My arms are still sore from yesterday."
"Did you put on the cream I gave you?" I gave her a pointed look and she huffed, shaking her head. "Well, go put some on now. There's a small tin of it next to my bed."
"Fine," she groaned, standing up from the table with her finished plate.
"I'm adding another five push-ups to your workout today for the attitude," Cassian called out to her. I snorted as I heard her mock him from down the hallway.
I finished Daisy's hair, telling her to put her finished plate in the sink and then brush her teeth. Once she was out of the room with Willa, I sat down in her seat and took my plate from in front of Az.
"I would've made you a plate if I knew you were coming," I said to him, filling my fork with eggs.
He shrugged, his black hair glinting in the morning sun from the open doors leading to the veranda outside. "I had something to eat on the way here." I nodded, chewing my food as he continued, "You okay, Rora? You look...troubled."
Cassian nodded his head, leaning back into the chair made for wings. "I noticed that too. Have you been sleeping and eating?"
"We know taking care of the girls can get tiring for you," Azriel cuts in softly. "If you need a break for a few hours, then you know the four of us are happy to watch them."
I placed down my fork, giving them a small smile. "I'm eating and getting enough sleep. Plus, the girls are great. They help around the apartment and always go to bed when I ask." By looking at their faces, I knew they weren't convinced one bit. I sighed, dropping my head back against my chair. "Willa asked me this morning why I don't have wings like her and Dase."
Cassian let out a strangled cough, his hand hitting against his chest. Azriel stayed silent and I looked back at them. At their sorrow-filled eyes.
They were there that day. The day I got punished for unleashing my wrath against our camp for what they'd done to me. They, and Rhys, were the first ones to find me after everything happened, and since then, they had a special hatred for our old camp.
"Did you tell her?" Azriel hesitantly asked, his eyes calculating on me.
I shook my head, pushing my plate away. "I couldn't," I admitted weakly, avoiding their eyes. "They're too young to know what happened—to know what our people did to me. I won't lay that burden on them. Not until they are older and wanting, truly wanting, to know what happened."
"I don't blame you," Azriel said, and I looked up, but his eyes were focused on his scarred hands. A tragedy that occurred to him when he was so young by his own brothers.
I turned my gaze to Cassian to stop myself from reaching across the table to hold Azriel's hands in my own. To comfort him how I was when I'd lost my wings. But if I reached over now, I know it'll only make him uncomfortable.
"Has Mor had any word from Rhys?" I asked Cass, propping my chin on my hand.
He gravely shook his head. "Nothing. No update. No news." And my heart sunk further for my other bastard brother taken away from us.
"Mother above," I sighed. "I miss him."
"We all do." And that was guilt and sadness shining in Cassian's eyes.
Two pairs of footsteps padded down the hallway, followed by laughter. I sat up straighter in my chair, a fake smile, like Azriel's and Cassian's, on my face as I turned to look at my sisters.
"Willa said I get to start training with Uncle Cass when I'm eight!" Daisy cheered, jumping around the room as Willa laughed from behind her. "I'll get to fly!"
I stood up, laughing at them both. "I remember when Willa was that excited the first time I told her."
"Speaking of which," Cassian said, rising from his seat, "It's time for me and Willa to go start our training."
Willa instantly stopped laughing, a mask of annoyance on her face as she glared at Cassian. Cassian laughed, striding for the front door as Azriel stayed seated, his shadows sticking close to him. The first time my sisters saw those shadows, they weren't scared like I thought they would be. Instead, they stared at him in amazement.
I walked over to Willa, placing a soft kiss on the crown of her head. "Go on." I gave her a gentle push toward the front door, and she started walking with a groan. "We'll bake cookies when you get home tonight."
That had her running toward Cassian and the front door. "I love you!" she yelled over her shoulder, running out the door.
Cassian laughed, looking back at me. "We'll be back before the afternoon, in one piece," he said, walking out the door and closing it behind him.
"Can we read now?" Dase asked, looking up at me.
I smiled down at her and opened my mouth to answer, only for Az to cut me off, "I'll help you get started on the book while Rora goes for a bath."
I snapped my head to him, not expecting him to offer. "You don't have to—"
"I don't mind," he assured me, standing from his seat as Dase ran over to the small bookcase behind the couch, gifted by Amren. "Have the morning for yourself to relax and get ready. I'll watch her and help her read in the meantime."
My shoulders sagged with relief as I sent him a warm smile. "Thank you, Az. I appreciate this."
He rounded the table, stopping before me as I looked up at him. "I'm happy to help you, whenever." He placed a kiss on the top of my head, a somewhat normal occurrence between us since we were young. It never got old though. I always had butterflies in my stomach just from the small, friendly touch. "Go on. I've got her."
"Can we read this one?" Dase asked, holding up a book with fruit and vegetables drawn on the cover.
Azriel smiled at me before facing Dase and walking toward her. "We'll read whatever you want."
I watched, flustered and happy, as Azriel sat down next to her on the couch, opening the book. My heart pounded faster as she laughed at something he said, bringing me more happiness than I expected for one morning.
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fleet-of-fiction · 26 days
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Jake Kiszka x Narrator & Sam Kiszka x OC.
Chapter Four
Summary: The Jones Family are new additions to the sleepy community of Beech Run. A tight knit scattering of rural houses, where everyone knows everyone. Deeply religious and overbearingly strict, the daughters of the family are kept under lock & key by a fanatical Father and submissive Mother. They watch from bedroom windows as their neighbours, The Kiszkas, draw intense curiosity and desire to be free. Madness of youth , hope & obsession collide to bring the danger of forbidden love to poetic ends. (Era A/U)
Warnings: Religious/ Parental trauma. Penetrative p/v sex. Dom/Sub dynamics. Ass play. Oral F/Receiving.
Winter 1985 (Flash forward)
Jake was gone; to begin with. The absence of him echoed all around. Like the vapours of his breath still lingered in the mist, just waiting to be breathed in.
It had been ten days since I last saw him. Standing on the edge of the street where all the Christmas lights twinkled an array of colours I couldn't feel anymore. The rot had set in.
And I'd watched him go. Without a rope to tie around his neck, or mine. Because using it to tether him to me hadn't worked. It was seamless how he disappeared into the density of the encroaching fog. Those reds, greens and blues that ran along the neighbouring windows fading alongside him.
I didn't know quite how profound the loss would be until I realised it was infinite. And suddenly I understood why poets were driven mad.
"Bonnie?"
The rain was lashing against the windscreen. I hadn't noticed. All I could see was the swirls of grey and white of that night he had walked into the road. Forever locked in that moment, never stepping out of it even as I traversed the present moment.
"Yeah?" I replied, turning my head to look at a pair of eyes so painfully similar to his that I couldn't stare for too long.
"We're here." Sam informed me, gesturing towards the blurred image of the church beyond the rainy glass.
I looked down at my hands. Balled up in my lap like I was wringing out a damp cloth.
"I can't do it." I shook my head, adamant that I was going to let roots begin to grow beneath where I sat before I ever got out of the car.
The warmth of a hand on my shoulder snaked over the curve of it from the seat behind me. And the tenderness of it made the tears begin to flow once more.
"Come on." Jolene soothed, "Be strong today, and I promise you can fall apart tomorrow."
~
Summer 1984
Jakes house smelled like beer and fabric softener. There were empty bottles strewn across the kitchen work tops and half eaten bags of chips sitting on the table. He immediately scrambled to try and make the place look more presentable as he opened the door for me.
I was endeared by it. But too tired to really care if the place was tidy or not.
"My Dad." He explained, sliding his arm across the counter in an attempt to gather all the empties into the trash can. "He usually has some buddies around to play poker and jam a little once a week. My Mom usually makes him clear the mess up, I guess he forgot tonight."
None of it felt real. Not the words exchanged in the hospital room or the way my little sister had clung to life with her eyes closed, none the wiser to the heated exchange. I could feel the coil around me tighten, a fear that I had done the wrong thing starting to choke me.
"It's fine, Jake. Really." I assured him, feeling the tears come.
He dropped the trash can and bounded across the kitchen, reaching me in one single heart beat. Fingers wrapping around my shirt, pulling me into his circle. The rush of comfort was overwhelming, doing nothing to stem the flood that was building. But it didn't feel quite so futile once I pressed my face into the curve of his neck.
"Hey, hey..." He soothed, "Everything will be alright, you know that?"
Whatever it meant to have walked this path, I couldn't go back. I'd had a taste of defiance and it had gone down like nectar. Sweet and alluring, with none of the bitterness I'd expected. And although I had a moment of doubt, the moment Jake held me it dissipated into nothing.
"Not yet, I don't." I sighed, letting the damp spot I'd made on his shirt seep onto his skin.
"Yes you do." He replied, noticing what I'd done and pulling the shirt completely off. "You being here means that you do."
The wall clock was ticking. The gentle buzz of the refrigerator sounded out over the silent house. It was strange to hear these familiar sounds in a place that was completely new to me. It didn't feel like home, but I didn't feel homesick for anywhere else either.
"It's been a long night. We can sleep on the pull out in the garage, I don't want you to have to deal with Josh's sleep talking in my room." He said, lining up my expectations like he always did.
"I don't care where we sleep." I shrugged, taking the shirt he'd dumped on the back of a chair and straightening it out absently as if my hands needed something to do.
He noticed.
"You're restless." He surmised, taking my hands into his and wrapping them around his waist. "Maybe we won't sleep, then."
"I couldn't." I confessed. "I keep replaying the sight of her laying in that hospital bed, helpless. And all my Dad cared about was making sure I knew he thought me a whore."
A smug little grin began to dance across Jakes lips.
"A whore?" He chuckled. "I have never given you a dime, how much do I owe you?"
His softness had me melting into it. In the face of my misery, he smiled and brought me into a light no God could ever provide. The sweetness of his love all the payment I'd ever need for the things he took such delight in from me.
"Forever." I replied, "You owe me forever."
The gentle nudge of the tip of his nose turned my cheek.
"Forever it is, then." He replied, nuzzling into a kiss that was slow and delicate.
I liked his house. The way it felt lived in. I could feel the love in the walls, the intimation of welcome and the chaos. I wondered how it could be that such love manifested under a roof so close to one that could scarcely keep the warmth in.
"I think this is what God meant when he talked about love." I whispered, letting him guide me through the house towards the door that opened up into the garage.
Jake was unapologetically shirtless. The base of his spine sitting above his belt, two little dimples that seemed to wink as he walked. Every fibre of him appealed to me, as if he'd been placed at my doorstep to adore.
"Don't worry about God." He mused, pushing open the door to reveal a cool breeze coming in from the drafty expanse ahead. "We make our own luck, our own destiny. We make our own love."
I felt as if I should have been exhausted. But being in this cavern of wonders always took me back to the night he took my virginity. I couldn't step into it without being reminded of the beauty of it, the way he'd been so gentle and calm.
I wasn't a virgin anymore. Any semblance of innocence I had given to him, willingly. I knew the softness of a man's touch and the aggressive streak that could come with heightened arousal. I knew that look in his eye when he wanted my body more than my soul. Things a girl could never understand.
"Fuck me, Jake."
I wanted it. Not to take the pain away, or numb the doubts racing through my mind. But simply because I wanted it. I wanted the rough and the smooth of his body against mine. The rush of blood to his penis, to feel the veins pulse at my touch.
I wanted the power. The femininity of it, to know he ordained himself to me. For the longest time I'd lived under a rule that was not my own. I governed myself now, my mind and my body.
"How would you like to be fucked?" He asked, pulling out the bed whilst keeping his eyes on me.
I could have been shy about it. I could have said it didn't matter, that he could fuck me however he pleased. But it wouldn't have satisfied me.
"Like the whore my Father thinks I am." I replied, without shame.
His hands were already at his belt. Loosening the buckle. Pulling it out of the loops swiftly.
"You'd better take off that dress and get on all fours, then." He instructed, matter-of-factly, as if I hadn't just said the most debauched thing to ever escape my lips.
The immediate flood was inspiring. He was so sure of himself, so certain of his ability to arouse me. Sometimes I forgot that I instilled that same heat within him. And so I did as I was told, letting my clothes fall to the ground as I crawled onto the bed.
I heard the unmistakable thud of his jeans as he kicked them off. The waistband of his boxer shorts as he slid them down high thighs. Soon his hands were at my hips, positioning me at the very edge of the bed with my toes almost peering over the precipice.
"Like a whore." He repeated, sinking to his knees. "I wouldn't fuck a whore like I loved her."
I had known his love and it was powerful. But so too was his propensity to make me feel like the most desired creature on earth. It carved out an obsession within me that had caused a ripple throughout my whole life. I simply wasn't the same girl I'd been at the start of summer.
"Then don't." I said flatly, "Just for once, don't love me..."
The way he didn't hesitate, the way he didn't even verbalise it. He understood what I needed without fixating on the how or the why. I closed my eyes as he spat on my cunt, rubbing his saliva into my submissive clit as he positioned himself.
He loved me so much he would do this for me. The sacrifice was not lost upon me. Part of me wondered if he had been waiting for me to submerge myself beneath the dark waters trying to drown me. If all along he'd wondered if the virgin would go rogue.
"The pastor's daughter has finally listened to the devil." He uttered, through gritted teeth, leaning in to my pussy like it was a water fountain, curving his mouth into the slit like it was about to satiate his thirst.
"He speaks to me every day." I reiterated, my voice trembling on the tongue that sliced into my entrance.
He trailed it upwards, licking a clean stripe from my pussy into the valley of my ass. And there he set to work, chasing all the choirs of angels that had ever sung to me. They flew skyward out of my mouth as I let out an agonized cry of pleasure.
He ate like a man starved. Like a man who had never set his tongue to speak, let alone venture into the parts of my body that never knew it could feel so good to be lashed.
"You know I love you." He breathed, his words strained on the way he swallowed.
"I know." I replied, almost in whisper.
"Good." He murmured, railing his tongue against my swollen lips. "Because for the next five minutes it's going to feel like I don't."
I was immediately drawn to the paint peeling on the brick wall. I was never really sure why my eyes zeroed in on it. Perhaps because my other senses were overwhelmed. I just needed something to tether me to this plane of existence. To feel as if any of it was real.
I stared at that white speck of flayed paint as my body convulsed. Jake, like he had lost his damned mind, sucked my pussy lips into his mouth and the devilish sound that it made turned my cheeks crimson.
And then, without any warning, I felt it. The curious finger that opened me up, a delicious new venture to take my mind away from itself. And I closed my eyes against it, not even able to tether myself to the wall.
My pussy, feeling the void of his touch, pined as he gently probed inside that other begging place. Filling it, exploring it. And I didn't have any way to fight it, least of all when he slammed his cock into that neglected hole. Fingers edging further into my ass, his hard beast giving me exactly what I had asked for in my pussy and my mind on the verge of euphoria as I forgot even the first syllable of my own name.
He was wrong. He'd never been more wrong. As he heaved and pounded, delicious strokes that hit me deep and hard I'd never felt more loved. My entire body pulsed with the magnitude of each thrust. My vulnerability laid bare, like he'd seen the heart of me since the very first time we'd caught each other's eye.
I wanted to touch him so badly, so maddeningly. But it drove me wild how easily he could take control and I would submit. Despite my shallow breaths, a gasp still managed to find it's way to my lips as he pulled out of my ass, swirling that same finger around the hole before stroking it with the pad of his thumb.
Everything I had come to know about sex was at Jake's teaching. Even this. This moment of sheer abandon, forceful indulgence in something I had clearly needed for so long but hadn't known what it was that would cure me of this melancholy.
I was nearing the point of thoughtlessness when I heard his whisper. His body leaned into the curve of my spine, his stomach nestled against me as his hand pulled back my sweat drenched hair. Cock held deep inside, his lips at the shell of my ear.
"Whore..."
There it was. Every single facet of my soul lingering in the ether between us. Getting fucked, getting my pussy so unashamedly pounded I felt nothing but pride. In Jake, in myself. There was nothing outside of it, nothing outside that one word that I had now reclaimed.
"Hail Mary, full of grace..." I recited, my voice barely audible over the stream of moans. "The Lord is with thee..."
"That's it little whore, pray..." Jake encouraged, wrapping my hair around his fist.
"Blessed art thou among....uhh...women..." I choked, feeling my head reel back as he pulled. "And blessed is the...oh, fuck...fruit of thy womb..."
He fucked harder, faster. Keeping my body aligned with him by pulling my hair.
"Tell him." He urged, "Tell your God who you belong to now."
My brain completely shut off from the inhibited parts that would scream at me to be decent, to have the kind of sex that God would approve of. There was nothing but the throbbing girth and savage onslaught of Jake fucking me left to commit myself to.
"Holy Mary, Mother of God..." I breathed, my mouth unforgivingly dry. "Pray for us sinners...now...and in the hour...fuck...in the hour of...fuck......"
"Our Death..." Jake completed for me, sending me into an orbit that was higher than any heaven could hope to be.
Had it only been five minutes? Every muscle and sinew ached, every nerve ending a blaze. My cunt was soft and wet, filled with his cum and the moisture of mine. My hair follicles stung, raw from the pull. I felt Jakes body slide against mine, sweaty and spent. The violence of his furious assault in the flush of our flesh.
I'd never felt more at peace.
"You want me to fuck you like that again, my death might be a real concern." He sighed, falling onto his back as I tried to regain my composure.
I'd never seen him look so absolutely ruined. The sweat and the rose in his cheeks making him look decidedly demonic. The dilation of his pupils made his eyes look pitch black in the almost darkness. He was my satan, my sinful reason to renounce all that I had ever known.
"But what a death." I replied, trailing a palm down my wet breasts, feeling my skin pricked with sweat. "And when you're entering the gates of hell you'll have sweet memories to keep you company."
"Hell can only exist if you believe in it." He said morosely, pulling me down into the clammy circle of his arms. "And after tonight, I've got a feeling you'll be less inclined to worry about ending up in eternal hell fire."
My cheek was sticking to his chest. But I didn't care. I let my skin absorb into his. Running my finger up his stomach, catching the little drenched hairs below his belly button.
"I don't care." I didn't know it until I said the words out loud. "All I want to do is make sure Jolene gets better, and make sure she never goes back to that life."
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I had no concept of the time as I opened my eyes. I could feel the heat of the afternoon burning behind the garage door, though. A beam of yellow light framing the steel door. I sat up on the pull out bed, wrapped in blankets as if I'd been tucked in as I slept.
My dress was still draped on the arm of the chair opposite, everything left as it had been the night before. The only thing missing was Jake, his muffled voice carrying down from the house above.
I dressed in haste and found myself feeling a little nervous as I climbed the stairs towards the kitchen. Voices falling to silence as I turned the door handle.
I could feel the atmosphere thicken as I walked in. Jake was standing by the island, his palms flat on the counter and his head bowed. As if he'd been engaged in a conversation that brought him no joy. His Mother was standing at the hob, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. Her faded smile awkwardly returning as she caught sight of me.
Josh and Sam were sitting at the table devouring a plate of pancakes, their sister idly reading a book with her feet up on the chair next to her, barely noticing my entrance.
"Sit down, dear." Karen offered, "There's pancakes on the table and I'm making some porridge if you prefer."
The kitchen was still littered with the night before, empty beer cans and chip bags. But nobody seemed to care, and it made me feel more at home. Despite the lull in conversation as I took a seat around the table, I had hope that it was because nobody had expected me to be there.
Sam, still chewing his food, smiled.
"Do you think it'd be ok if I went to see Jolene in the hospital?" He asked, shoving an empty plate towards me.
"Sweetie, we talked about this." Karen said, pointing her wooden spoon at him. "I don't think Mr. Jones would appreciate that."
Perhaps I should have interjected. I could feel Jakes eyes on me, waiting for me to agree or disagree. Ronnie looked up over the lip of her book, and Josh offered me the syrup.
"You don't have to walk on eggshells." I ventured, "I don't have anything to say about my Father that will be positive."
"I already told you." Jake sniffed, "She doesn't want to go back there."
Karen shot her son a knowing look, one that I couldn't be a part of. But I understood the meaning of it. She would protect her flock from the bullshit my family posed, but she would welcome me regardless of it. Whatever it meant, she had to trust that her son had everything under control.
A part of me doubted that she held that much trust in her youngest son. I didn't know why, but I'd seen the careless nature in Sam. His propensity for letting himself run away with frivilous ideas. This and Jolene's chaos was a deadly combination.
"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need." Karen offered, putting a bowl of thick and gloopy porridge in front of me.
She sprinkled it with some fruit and looked pleased with herself. The sort of Mother I'd never known. Suddenly I was ravenous and began spooning the mixture into my mouth like I hadn't eaten in days. Maybe I hadn't?
"Don't they feed you over there?" Josh asked, amused by me.
Jake railed his palm against the back of Josh's head, ruffling his curls.
"I know you're joking, but be fucking nice!" He warned, pushing Ronnie's feet off the only empty chair before taking it.
"I am being nice!" Josh replied, shrugging in surprise. "Sorry, Bonnie."
I shook my head. It didn't matter. Sam was still waiting for me to say something to his request. As if what Karen had said didn't answer the question for him.
"So, what do you think?" He continued, "About me being able to go up to the hospital?"
I was still chewing on the blueberries popping against my tongue as I sluiced the porridge around my mouth. Savouring the taste. Wondering if breakfast was always this delicious, or did everything just taste better now that I was free?
I was still formulating an answer when the doorbell went. The ring of it making everyone exchange this strange look of wonder. Perhaps their doorbell was so seldomly pressed it came as a surprise that someone was at the door. It struck me that the Kiszka house was an open door policy. Anyone that knew them well enough to have occasion to visit simply stepped inside.
"I'll get it." Jake said, after realising nobody else would.
It didn't take long for me to hear the voice my brother used when he was trying to be polite, but it was nothing more than a facade to the way he really felt. I could hear the clipped tone, the words appropriate enough but I could imagine his smug little face.
I shot up from the table. Determined to make this problem go away. Feeling as if I owed no more bullshit on their doorstep.
"What do you want, Ben?" I asked, letting Jake step aside as I approached the door.
He didn't look smug at all. There was this pained look in this eyes that I'd never seen before. Like he hadn't slept. His shirt wasn't tucked in and his hair wasn't neatly combed as usual. His chin was trembling, as if he was on the verge of tears he would never allow himself to shed.
He was forlorn. "Can't a brother check up on his sister?"
I almost laughed. "I really don't think you care."
"I do..." He replied, without hesitation, his eyes widening to prove his point. "Of course I care. I've got one sister in the hospital and the other one hiding out in the house across the street. We need you to come home, both of you."
The use of the word 'we' incited an anger in the pit of my stomach I hadn't known burned quite so brightly. It flared in the whites of my eyes and made my palms grow clammy. I looked to Jake, but he simply held the door open and waited to move on my cue.
"Close the door Jake, we're done talking."
He didn't ask questions, he just let the door swing free. When Ben stepped inside and jammed his foot against it closing, only then did he gently move me back. Standing in front. Meeting my brother at eye level.
"Take your foot out of my door, dude." He softly warned, "That's not cool."
He didn't even look at Jake, it was as if he wasn't even there. Like this wasn't his house and he was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
"You disobey your Father, you disobey God." He said ominously, "Is that what you want, Bonnie?"
I couldn't entertain him. Every word that spilled out of his mouth now sounded like the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. Nonsense. The word of God? A tool used to keep me compliant. In fear. I could see his concern laced in his furrowed brow, but it was misplaced.
He wasn't concerned for me. He was concerned with the reaction he would get if he went home empty handed.
"Yes, Ben." I replied, "That is what I want. Ok???"
He'd forged his way into every traumatic moment of my life. Standing on the periphery of every abusive little thing Dad had ever said or done to me. Like a strange little voyeur, living under the same roof but having an entirely different experience.
"You heard her." Jake echoed, kicking my brothers foot aside before slamming the door in his face.
The eggshells were still being walked on as I hurried back to my breakfast. It broke my heart. And I couldn't eat another bite, everything going down in lumps as I sat there fighting back tears. Everyone was silent. I couldn't take it.
"Yes, Sam." I mumbled, trying to find my voice without it breaking on tears. "Get your jacket, we'll go up to the hospital."
His eyes lit up. His smile beamed. Like I'd handed him the holy grail and told him it would grant him unending powers. The sort of joy that was only reserved for the first flushes of love.
I looked at Jake, knowing it wasn't like that for me and him. He wouldn't find joy at being granted access to my hospital bedside. He would be injured at my side, or cutting down the last tongue that ever tried to tell him he could not see me.
I could still feel the ache between my legs that he had left as a reminder of his unwavering devotion. And I knew that whatever was to come would be a testament to that. To the coil wrapped around us both.
I couldn't fathom what was about to happen.
To be continued...
@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire
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Text
I think A LOT about Soap trying to give back the childhood Ghost lost. (Part 5)
Ghost sat at his desk, writing down reports from the last couple of missions. Writing down names of soldiers that got KIA, getting their family's contacts sorted out. He was glad that he wasn't the one who had to write the letters with condolences, it was Price's duty. Still, writing down dozens of names every few weeks was wearing off on his mental state. Sometimes he wished he was a lower rank, so all this paperwork wouldn't be his problem.
Ghost hear familiar food steps outside his room, soon after his door swung open and constant blabbering filled his room.
"My ma just called- said my old man feels better already. I told you about his injury, dumb man shouldn't be climbing a ladder at this age. Good that my sister is-"
"I am busy now, Soap" Ghost stopped him. Soap walked up to him and looked over his shoulder.
"Ugh... I could not be doing paperwork, I would fuck it up immediately or leave it for the last minute."
"I am gonna fuck up if I don't finish those by the end of the week."
 Soap stood over Ghost for a second, looking at all the paperwork work. "Alright, Lt. gimme some of them and I will help."
"Johnny you just said-"
"I can do this with clear instructions, Price will have to manage through my spelling mistakes."
Ghost looked at Soap, not knowing if he is grateful or just tired. He didn't realize that he was tearing a corner of one of the pages. "Ok, grab yourself a chair." 
Soap patted Ghost's back and sat next to him, taking in all the work before him. Ghost gathered some of it and passed it to the sergeant explaining what needed to be done.
They worked in silence for like... what, 3 minutes? After that Soap's leg started bouncing, brushing Ghost's knee every now and then. He huffed under his mask.
"So, you were talking about your sister."
"Ye won't mind me talking now?"
"I have divided attention, Johnny." And from that moment Soap talked about the situation in his family house, leg no longer moving. Surprisingly the Scott's energetic voice helped Ghost to fall into a nice work rhythm.
*******
They were filling out the paperwork for at least an hour now and they were both exhausted. Soap wasn’t even talking now, just writing things down and grabbing a corrector when Ghost pointed out a mistake every now and then. Soap was glad that he wasn’t very judgmental about it.
“What about we take a break, Lt.?” Soap leaned back in his chair. “Ye have a whole ass week for this.”
Ghost looked with a blank gaze at all the papers. “Sure, I had enough.”
And they sat in comfortable silence for a while, but Soap wasn’t one to sit in silence for long periods of time, especially when around Ghost. They could be doing so much together!
“Ah’ have a plan!” Soap perked up.
“I am saying ‘No’ to whatever it is.” Lieutenant declared.
“Ye are no fun, just- Do you have like… Who am I asking.” Soap stood up. “I will be right back.”
“I said-” But Johnny was already gone. Ghost didn’t know how the man could just ignore him and what’s weirder he didn’t know why he was letting him. Soap could tell him that he takes him on a trip to some distant part of the world and he would follow- no without bitching about it, but he would. And he didn’t know how to feel about it. Probably panicked.
Soap came back holding his sketchbook and a worn-out, flat box. He sat on the floor, back resting against Ghost’s bed. He gestured for Ghost to sit beside him. Ghost groaned, but did as Johnny wanted. It’s not like he had anything better to do- except the pile of work.
“You came here to brag about your drawing skills?”
“Oy! Ah’ don’t brag!” Soap clearly felt insulted by that.
“You bring it everywhere, Johnny.”
“But I don’t show anyone- That’s beside the point. We are gonna draw something.” He started to go through his sketchbook in search of a blank page.
“I can’t dr-” Ghost could swear he could see his mask on one of the pages, it was for a second before Soap got to the blank pages. Soap couldn’t see the blush that crept on his covered face. 
“I got my old crayons, so we won’t be able to create masterpieces anyway. Yoe are not getting out of this, Lt.” Soap scooted closer to perch his journal on both of their knees. They had to sit with their legs flushed together. How did Ghost not mind?
Soap stuck the small box between their knees. “Come on, you have one page and I draw on the other.” He already had a green crayon in hand. “You can just draw whatever comes to yer mind. It really helps with stress, well - helps me at least.”
Ghost certainly needed that now, so he grabbed himself a black crayon. Soap smiled and focused on his own side, while Ghost doodled mindlessly. It actually was pretty soothing, especially since their hands were brushing against each other. Ghost was so focused on not freaking out that he didn’t realize that Soap was now looking at his page.
“Is that a carrot?” Soap pointed to one of the doodles. Ghost sighed.
“It was supposed to be a nuke.”
“Ooooh, yeah I can see that now.” Soap was now totally in Ghost’s space, drawing things right next to his ‘drawings’. “What about this?”
“Half a dog.”
Soap snorted. “You are terrible, Simon.” They drew together for a while, Soap’s page forgotten.
“What about you draw something big to finish the page?” Sergeant proposed.
“Wouldn’t know what.”
“First thing that comes to yer mind. I will close my eyes, and see if I can tell what it is.” He chuckled and closed his eyes.
The first thing that comes to mind, huh? Ghost looked for a minute on relaxed Soap, his eyes closed, smiling. Right next to him.
He got to work. What he drew did not look like he wanted at all, but he really tried. And come on, he doesn’t know when was the last time he held a crayon in his hands. When he finished, he just moved his leg, to let Johnny know. He opened his eyes.
In the middle of the page, was a huge wonky drawing of him smiling. 
Soap’s heart swelled up- the first thing Simon thinks about is him,
I AM SPEED. I don't know why but this thing puts me in such a creative mood and I get so much motivation from all the comments <3 It's just so relaxing to write those. I hope you all like it <3
I might be projecting on Soap with the dyslexia.
Oh and I forgot I did this because I felt like it would be adorable.
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jjmaybankxx · 11 months
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Anthony Bridgerton with prompts 34, 39, 41, 43, 45 and 48
Benedict Bridgerton with prompts 1, 11, 3, 40, 41 and 43
Thank you so much!!
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
warning: just cute fluff
summary: you and benedict have been friends since childhood and you tell benedict your parents want you get married this season
prompt 1 : I think I love you
You arrive at the Bridgeton's at step down for the carriage thanking the person who helped you. You first got lead to the drawing room but no one was in there so you snook your way to Benedict's art room.
You knock on his door and hear benedict say "come in". Walking into his art room you see him painting on his canvas.
"Hello Benedict" he looks up and smiles and you don't miss how he quickly checks you out"Y/n I didn't expect to see you today"
"Really? I usually see you most days" you reply, you walk over to the couch and sit down. "what are you working on can I see?"
"uhh I-I" he stammers "you can never see an artist work till it is finished" he replys.
You raise an eyebrow being confused ad he usually shows you his unfished work but decide not to push the subject.
"well I have some news" Benedict takes a sip of his tea "my parents want me to attend this season and find a suitable man to marry"
Benedict spits his tea all over his painting and your eyes widen and you stand up "Benedict your painting".
He looks up at you "w-what did you say, your getting married?" You can't help but laugh.
Once you calm your self down you look back at Benedict "No well yes but not right now first I have to find a good man " "But why"
"Well my older sister god marries last season so luckily I don't need to marry anyone with a high rank but they want to be taken care of" You say.
Benedict walks over to you " I will not let you marry anyone" He says sternly" Your taken back by what he says.
"Why not!"
He wraps his arm around your waist and you gasp "Benid-" "I think I love you" Benedict says.
"I think I have loved you since we were children"
You look into his eyes and your own soften "are you sure because i think does not make you sound sure"
He grips you tighter "I am sure and I 100 percent want to marry you tonight just so I can kiss you"
He starts to get down on one knee but you catch him and make him stand up.
Benedict smiles once you he sees you laughing "Benedict you know i will say yes if you ask me to marry you right now but hoe about we do it in front of your family , we don't want to get caught being alone and cause a scandal"
"We will do it tomorrow then my love" You have already been improper so you decide one more time wont harm and you places your arms around Benedict's neck and hug him tight
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slutforsnow · 4 months
Text
Lady With Lousy Luck
Part two of "A Pretty Girl Playin' With The Big Boy's" (<-link to pt 1)
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CW/TW// guns, Billy is his own warning (so is Jesse, but this aint abt him LMAO), shooting, talk about abusive/manipulative ex and old friend, scars, forced marriage (?), shooting, grooming
Summary: Violet hangs with Billy and Jesse as they go shooting and get to know each other
A/N: Oh. My. Satan. GUYS ILY FOR GIVING PART ONE A CHANCE TY😭😭🫶🏼🫶🏼 also I might proofread that cause I posted it at 2am LMFAO if you guys have any writing tips/notice any misspellings lmk (also this is after the scene where he helps Kathleen working before he goes shooting with Jesse)
"Vi, why did you bet so much?" Jesse inquired as they walked to the make-shift shooting area after leaving Billy to let him join and check up on his ma. She shrugged, not really knowin' why herself.
"Don't know, just felt like it." As she spoke, she was rubbing her arm red and raw from how hard that gambler had grabbed her. She scowled as they walked, biting the inside inside of her cheek. The gambler had looked too similar to her ex. Shaking her head, she shuddered, trying to rid the image of her ex's face from her mind. 'Outta sight, outta mind my ass.'
"What's Billy like?" She questioned back, avoiding the topic of why she shuddered or bet so much.
"How d'you mean? I've told you he's a pretty damn good gunslinger for his age." Jesse looked at his younger sister with a raised brow.
Violet looked at Jesse with a look that could pierce through anything."Not like that, dumbass, I mean, is he a good person or somethin'." She swore that Jesse was messin' with her with how he shrugged. She was goin' to slap this man. She didn't care how much older he was.
"He's pretty quiet, hardworking," Jesse began, stoppin' for a moment to relax. "Loves his ma, Kathleen, and little brother, Joseph, to death. He hates his step-father, and between you and me, I can't blame him for that—but other than that, he keeps to himself."
Violet nodded, leaning against a tree and looking up at the blue sky. She watched the clouds go by as the pair waited for Billy to arrive, and she remembered how defeated Billy looked back at the saloon.
She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about it. She decided to be nice decided to give Billy her winnings from poker to him. She figured it would be a nice 'thanks for savin' my ass' sort of gesture.
When Billy arrived, Violet watched them shoot the targets from a spot on the grassy plains behind them.
She was mesmerized by his focus and draw. How the muscles in his hand flexed when he drew his pistol and fired. She had to admit, it was hot and so was he–but not just physically. Billy was respectful, a gentleman, funny, loyal, and powerful. She knew he'd be a good friend in the long run, so she planned to at least become his friend.
As Jesse and Billy conversed about guns and how to modify them, Violet started to rub her bruise again. It was a reminder. A painful reminder of the man she hated. The one who almost ruined her life and ended her life of innocence.
She laid down in the grass, laying like a starfish, and sighed. 'When I find you, Henry Antrim, I'll kill you.'
After a few minutes, Jesse came over kicking Violet in the side, which earned him a kick to the knee.
"I'm awake, what," She groaned out, sitting up. Jesse rolled his eyes before dropping his sister's hat on her face.
"Goin' piss, entertain Billy," He said, before deeper into the trees to relieve himself as the bathrooms were too far of a walk from their place.
"Hi again, ma'am," Billy greeted, tippin' his hat down to Violet and sitting down in the grass next to her.
She laughed softly and playfully pushed him in his side as she sat up.
"No need to call me ma'am, Billy, I'm perfectly okay with being called Violet."
"But wouldn't you find that disrespectful?" He questioned, taking his hat off.
"Nah. I ain't really fond of being called miss or ma'am. Not after my ex," Violet stated, grabbing her lucky make-shift knife and stabbing the dirt as she looked at Billy. He looked nervous to be talking to a woman around his age. Alone.
"Oh... we'll... what exactly did he do? If you don't mind me asking?"
"Well, the short story is... he popped my cherry before I was ready. He and an old friend of a mine also sort of... controlled and manipulated me to think it was fine despite being 16 he was, I think, maybe mid-to-late 40s. Said it was love, but...it wasn't," She explained, gripping her blade hard before throwing it at a tree down by the targets, and it stuck into the trunk.
Billy was taken aback by the sudden drop of what happened and why she hated her ex so badly. Finding no words to say, Billy hesitantly put a hand on her back and rubbed her back in a comforting manner. Violet had originally shuddered at the touch and had gone to shove him off, but instead... she relaxed. She half-leaned into his touch, finding comfort and warmth from the cold and distant man. Billy didn't speak, but Violet didn't want him to. Most people asked how she could be so stupid or yell at her for being dumb. But Billy offered comfort, and she found solace in it.
As a few minutes passed, Violet suddenly sat up remembering something. "Oh shit, I almost forgot!" Billy looked down at her puzzled as she fished out her winnings from poker. When she finally grabbed the large wad of cash, she pressed it firmly into his rough and calloused hands.
"Here," She said, smiling up at him as the wind blew her curls out of her face.
Billy stared, puzzled. She was giving him her winnings and didn't understand why.
"Why are you giving me your winnings...?" He asked, slowly closing his hand around the wad of cash and coins.
"Cause you saved my ass- besides, I planned to buy you a drink, but my brother gave me a look that said we needed to get out of there now. Figured money would be a better alternative after hearin' about the mining accident," She answered, playfully hitting him in the shoulder as he stared at her in awe.
Billy didn't really understand the whole concept of love at first sight, but he did know one thing; this woman was his soulmate.
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themultifandomgal · 9 months
Text
Shelby Sister- Strained Relationship Pt2
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YNs forced to follow Luca with a gun against her  head. Turns out her brothers did come for her, but she doesn't hold out much hope that they will  all to survive this. Tommy stands in front of Luca and his men with Finn and Polly behind him
"All that's left of the Peaky Fucking Blinders" Luca says standing behind a table. He motions for YN to step forward with his fingers. The man who has a gun against her head pushes her in to Luca who takes him in his arms "pretty things isn't she. Shame for her to die, but I have to do what's needed if you don't comply"
"Let her go Changretta, she has nothing to do with the business" Tommys deep voice shocks YN
"Ive had my lawyer draw up these papers" Luca says ignoring Tommy as one of his men place down a huge wad of powers "they cover, er,
every enterprise in your possession. Bars, restaurants, warehouses, every fucking thing that you've taken all these years to gather together. You will sign them all over to my family. Or your sister is going to die, right here in front of you" his hold tightens on YN "search em" Lucas men walk past Luca and YN to her brothers and aunt. They remove any guns or knifes they may have on them. Lucas attention is back on YN "maybe the treat of having her killed isn't enough. Maybe I should have had her hand in marriage. Breed her then kill her, shame for her to go to waste. You can sign them on your knees on the floor" Tommy doesn't move which causes Luca to once again place a gun agains YNs head "get on your fucking knees and sign!" he yells making YN flinch. Tommy slowly lowers to his knees
"As a friend of mine once said big fucks small. So I had to find someone bigger than you. Now, you may know there are two families in Brooklyn who want to take over your monopoly on the import of liquor into New York"
"But if they moved against you in New York they'll start a war between the families" Polly states
"But if you were to die in a vendetta with some fucking bookmaker in Birmingham, they could take over your business without a war"
"We also contacted a businessman in Chicago. He's also interested in moving into the liquor business in New York"
"His name is Alphonse Capone"
"You been talking to that fat fuck?"
"All the blood relatives you brought with you from New York, they're all dead Mr Changretta. And these men here, they work for money, for the highest bidder. They have now new orders"
"Is that right?" Luca pushes YN from his grip to one of the men holding a gun "kill her" YN closes her eyes waiting for the sound and pain to arrive, but it doesn't. Instead there's a chuckle from Tommy "fine" Luca pulls out his own gun and points it towards YN, but Tommy manages to push it away, attacking Luca. That's when YN sees her eldest brother, her brother who she thought was dead. Arthur pulls out a gun and shoot Luca killing him instantly "tell your people in Chicago that Michael Gray will sign import license to New York. 300 barrels of English Dry Gin a month"
"Leave. All of ya" Arthur says. Before YN can think her feet are moving towards her oldest brother who immediately wraps her up in his arms "your ok. Your safe"
"Let's get 'er home with a cup of tea in 'er hands" Tommy says looking at Finn and Polly.
"How are you feeling love?" Polly asks placing a cup in front of her niece
"I had excepted my fate, thought I was gonna die"
"Tommy wouldn't have let that happen"
"What so I can be a pawn in another one of his games? Maybe I would have better off..."
"Don't say that YN"
"I'm surprised Tommy came to be honest"
"Tommy was out there looking for you YN. He found your purse, you bag, the blood, YN he was so scared that you had been killed"
"But Tommy hates me?" YN looks up at her aunt confused
"He doesn't hate you YN. Your remind him of your mother. Your the spitting imagine of her. Tommy took her death the hardest"
"But even as children we didn't get on Poll"
"You stole the attention YN, well in Tommys eyes you did"
"That's not my fault"
"I'm not saying it was, but I just want you to understand that Tommy doesn't hate you. Your family always will be" the door opens and in walks Tommy himself
"Poll can you leave us" polly gets up nodding and leaves the room. Tommy takes her place and sits opposite YN. It's silent while YN drinks her tea
"I'm glad your safe" he finally says
"Yeah" YN breathes out "Polly told me the reason why we don't get on. Said I look like mother"
"Not just that, you act like her, which scares me"
"Why?"
"I was close to her and she left YN"
"Tom she died in childbirth, it's not like she deliberately abandoned us like our father" YN frowns
"I know, but today scared me YN. We may not be close but your still my sister and I care about you"
"Who knew Luca Changretta would be the one to bring us together" both YN and Tommy chuckle
"After today you need something stronger than tea. Here" Tommy takes out his hip flask with no doubt Irish Whiskey inside. He tips it into the her cup, but when Polly comes back into the room Tommy places his fingers on his lips telling YN to stay quiet. Maybe this is the start of a friendship forming between the two siblings.
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rzyraffek · 1 year
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Hi hi!! I’m here to request something with my bbg Vincent Sinclair! your thingy doesn’t exactly specify which slashers, so I think I’ll ask for Vincent and Michael Myers just so u have an idea u can write abt if you don’t know the other!!
Okay okay, so what about a reader with a bad attitude? So for Vince, I would assume that their relationship starts with the reader defending Vincent from Bo. Like, Bo just starts calling Vincent names (like the mean truck man he is >:[) and Vincent is just taking it, then the reader steps between the two twins and just starts BURNING Bo with every insult they have.
“Oh, he’s the freak? Well at least he knows how to keep his mouth shut and isn’t asking everyone with a *female anatomy* to *adult fun* every ten seconds.” or something vicious like that-
and Vincent is just dumbfounded that someone has the balls to speak up against Bo.
and for Michael, same thing, but the reader is just being so mean when he starts chasing them! Like, they try to hide behind a door and they make sure that Michael saw them, so when he opens the door, the reader just flips him off and kicks him away from the door really harshly-
or, just being really really hard to catch. Like if they climb somewhere high and he can’t get to them, the reader just sticks their tongue out and flips him off again with the snarkiest attitude!!
anyways, that’s all I gots for now! Feel free to ignore this lol, but if you don’t directly respond to this ask but do use the idea, I ask that u credit me!
u look lovely today, and I hope u have an amazing night/evening/morning/day!
<3
First of all, for some reason I got no notification that somone requested anything and I have no clue how long it was sitting in my inbox. Second of all thats great idea cuz in most of fics reader is always very meow meow shy uwu bebi, which is sometimes annoying tbh, they should be rude sometimes. Requests open
Slashers with badass s/o
Vincen Sinclair
Bros used to this kind of treatment, name calling, mean words, yelling ect
This relationship started by s/o just simply asking Vincent if he's alright after Bo yelled at him
Any kind of affection makes him blush like teenager girl after watching twilight for first time
In his free time he will just hold s/o hand and walk behind them like lost puppy
Imagine: "yo vinc get over here you lazy ass" vincent:😰🏃 "well BO maybe if you stopped acting like such drama queen and get rid of this nasty ass attitude then MAYBE people will start helping you without fear of losing a limb or sanity?" 🧍🧍‍♂️
Tbh the only reason that Bo didn't commit murder on s/o is that vincent is actually very happy now and even that Bo is a horrible human being he doenst want his bro completely emo
Lack of ideas so im just going to put some mean words to Bo here
"Dont worry vincent, hes just jealous cuz he cant hold conversation with women for more than 4seconds without scaring them to death. litteraly"
"Aw baby dont be sad, just compare your hair routine with his. Im surprised hes not bald to be honest"
Live laugh love Vincent
"Nonono dont be upset, how about we draw together huh? Can you go pass me crayons from your workplace😇i totaly wont whoop your brother while you are away"
If s/o is just rude to Bo face, Vincent will be so so happy that they protect him but so so worried that s/o is about to evaporate due to Bo anger issues
"You calling him a freak? Better look who has stable relationship and lack of anger issues L bozo"
Also now Vince is 24/7 with her bcs not only shes great, protects him and provides comfort🥰
Micheal Myers
"AHAHAH looozer can't climb the ladder? Yo old as hell man go to retirement home"
S/o calling him granma to bully him
"Yo man stop begin such stalker or im going go call yo sister (in some versions laurie is his sister if u dont agree just ignore this part lol) and she gonna beat you up
Micheal spawning behind her, inside her house:🧍 "😨 yo sup Myers wacha got there? A a knife? Eee cool cool"🏃
"If you have such blood-lust go kill rats in my basement they keep stealing my food"
🧍 Myers emoji
Im sorry if its unfunny or boring I watched house of wax when it came out so like long time ago and I kinda forgor vincent and bo personalities. And Myers personality is basicly 🧑‍🦯old man
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