#this tis the moment we've all been waiting for

[clatoera]

Hi bestie pls ignore this if this will like ruin upcoming chapter titles but if you had to assign each main ARWBFB character a song from Taylor’s new album what would you give them? Like which songs would resonate with them or remind you of them etc

Okay bestie this took me literal days, I just listened to the album for three hours on my drive upstate I think i've decided.

Unsurprising to anyone I felt like the album resonated with me more than I expected and ended up practically in a bender for three days so theres that. I was definitely not roaming the streets at 4 am or anything like that on friday morning absolutely nothing of the sort occured.

Surprising everyone even less ist that I largetly heard this and went ah yes. Glimmer. Glimmer again. Clove. Cashmere. Clove. Clove and Cato. etc so theres a RECURRING Theme here okay anyway these are obviously in arwbfb au sooo. This is the whole anthology because I can't listen to only one.

Glimmer

Down bad: Okay I know it sounds like a weird choice but this is giving Glimmer in about chapter 10(?) of ARWBFB but also like this is her general vibe as a victor i think like "For a moment I knew cosmic love" "Fuck it if I can't have him, I might just die it would make no difference." "waking up in blood" "Fuck it if I can't have us/I just not get up." "cause fuck it I was in love, so fuck you if you can't have us." idk it just FEELS right this song has been one I've really liked so!

I can do it with a broken heart: Are you kidding like??? this is not only one of my top 2 songs but also?? it's so perfect. Like it literally says "she's having the time of her life, there in her glittering prime." followed by "I can show you lies." and then we get hit with "Lights, camera, bitch smile even when you wanna die. He said he'd love me all his life but that life was too short breaking down i hit the floor all the pieces of me shattered" I literally am about to list like the entire song but come one "I was grinning like i'm winning I was hitting my marks I can do it with a broken heart." "I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day." "You know you're good when you can do it even with a broken heart" "Cause I'm miserable and nobody even knows!" Okay literally I beg I plead everyone listen to this song and report back if you think i'm right.

Cashmere and Glimmer both

The Prophecy: This feels like it could be either of them!!! "I got cursed like eve got bitten, oh was it punishment?" "Please I've been on my knees, change the prophecy. Don't want money, Just someone who wants my company. Let it once be me, who do I have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy." "i'm so afraid I sealed my fate, no sign of soulmates" Idk I think they'd both have similar yearning for a life unlike the one they have where they can get the hell out of this snow induced hell. Change the prophecy of their fate and their lives sort of things.

I hate it here: I gotta be honest I don't think I need to elaborate on this one. Just..listen to this. This is actually any and all victor girls. This is also Finnick. I honestly just suggest we listen to the song and sit with it for a moment as if the title alone is not explanation enough!!!

Cashmere:

Clara Bow:I mean.. "In this light, remarkable, all your life did you know you'd be picked like a rose?" "Take the glory, give everything" this song is all about being compared to the last great thing right, and I think it feels very cashmere to me but in the way that it bleeds into I think when she sings about herself at the end talking about the next big thing to come after her feels very big sister cashmere to me idk! "Beauty is a beast that roars, down on all fours demanding more. ONly when your girlish glow, flickers just so do they let you know?" "It's hell on earth to be heavenly" (Chapter title spoiler fr I heard it and literally pulled out my laptop) Idk it feels right especially because she would know what would come tot he pretty girls after her!!!!!!

But Daddy I love him: OKAY I know this is a werid one but if you think about it not as a MAN who's bad for her but a comp het high society with the expectations of her to be a perfect daughter/woman I think it would make ENTIRE sense for it to be Cashmere but in terms of like...being with women rather than the "wrong man" like in the song idk. I also feel like "I learned these people only raise you to cage you." "they slammed a door on my whole world, the one thing I wanted." "I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning." "i'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace, I don't care to cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing." Idk It feels RIGHT just LISTEN to it.

Clove

Okay Okay I feel like I got some GOOD ones for her too okay so I want to start out STRONG with a song that screams not only Clove but Cato AND Clove it's my new Clato song...

Fresh out the Slammer: I know I know but come on. I could list EVERY line in this song it's soooo post Clove's games in ARWBFB. "Now pretty baby i'm running back home to you, fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to." "Years of labor, locks, and ceiling in the shade of how he was feeling, but it's gonna be alright I did my time." "Camera flashes welcome bashes" "My friends tried but I wouldnt hear it" (being enobaria) "watched me disappearing daily for just one glimpst of his smile, all those nights you kept me going. " "Now we're at the starting line I did my time, now pretty baby i'm running to the house where you still wait up and that porch light gleams, to the one who says i'm the girl of his American dreams... Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know whats at stake." "At the park where we used to sit on childrens swings wearing imaginary rings, but i's gonna be alright I did my time." SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP It's like Taylor Swift crawled inside my mind as I wrote the first like 5 chapters of ARWBFB and chose to write this because it's them it's them it's soooo them in ARWBFB absolutely noone touch me I felt this was for me personally!!!

AND ANOTHER Clato song is

I can fix him (No really I can): Do I even need to elaborate like "They shale their heads saying God help her when I tell them he's my man. But your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger. I can fix him, no really I can (AND ONLY I CAN???)" "His hand so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face." "A perfect case for my certain skillset" "Good boy, thats right. Come close i'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night." "TRUST ME I CAN HANDLE A DANGEROUS MAN, NO REALLY I CAN."

SHUT UP NO COMMENTS FROM THE PRESS AT THIS TIME y'all

Following THAT up with my FAVORITE SONG ON THE ANTHOLOGY

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: SHUT UP AGAIN guys come on this is THE song THE song for me THE song for Clove not only with her like growing up but also the shit Snow did to her>????? "if you wanted me dead you should've just said nothing makes me feel more live." But Also!! "WHOS AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?? YOU SHOULD BE!!!" Thats for CLove! Tiny 5'3 100lb clove!! "I was tame I was gentle till the circus life made me mean." This is for my little baby girl who was not wanted and was raised like this to make her a good little tribute the circus life being the training/panem/career life thank you. "they say they didn't do it to hurt me...I want to snarl and show you how disturbed this has made me. You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" The asylum being the academy in this essay I will- "I'm fearsome and i'm wretched and i'm wrong." Special enobaria mention for "don't worry folks we took out all her teeth" tell me "you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me, you caged me and then you called me crazy. I am what I am 'cause you trained me." Are you fucking joking rn i'm sorry i'm once again just quoting the whole song I know.

So Long, London: Okay I know it's a weird take but to me it makes more sense imagining it in regards to her saying goodbye to the District she thought she knew and the idea of the capitol as she knew it you know?? "And i'm just getting color back into my face. I'm just mad as hell 'cause I loved this place." Does it make sense?????? to me it does!!!

The albatross: "She's the albatross. She's here to destroy you. Devils that you know raise hell worse than a stranger. She's the death that you chose. You're in terrible danger." Okay I think it makes sense without me elaborating but it's Clove it's Clove @ Snow who thought she was a perfect victor to compare to Katniss then he TORTURES her and she kills him and yeah she is the death snow chose next question.

Enobaria

Naturally all these songs are about my favorite girlies and yeah so they're all for my girls anyway these are gonna come off weird but i just need you to hear me out on it okay??

The Bolter: I feel like I am dropping Enobaria lore with these things but okay "Curious child, ever reviled." Idk it fits to me. "It feels like the time she fell through the ice then came out alive" Idk I know her arena isnt ice but like!! The idea of reliving the time you almost died and coming out alive again and again "But she's got the best stories, you can be sure that as she was leaving it felt like freedom. All of her fuckin' lives flashed before her eyes and she realized it feels like the time she fell through the ice then came out alive." Like to me it feels like her recognizing freedom after the games are over and in D2 and having her life be hers again and idk!! It made sense to me.

Cassandra: This ALSO is dropping lore but this song feels like the D2 split during the rebellion like each side thinking the opposite of her "in the street theres a ragin rio, when it's burn the bitch they're shrieking. When the truth comes out it's quiet so they killed cassandra first." "they knew they knew they knew the whole time that I was on to something" I feel like i need to drop more Enobaria during the war time lore for this to make sense but it does to me so just take my word for it!!

Okay!!! Thank you bestie!! Here's a small novel in resopnse to your otherwise simple question!! Love you!! @bodyelectric77

[galedekarios]

one thing that really tugs at my heartstrings while going through the epilogue files a bit more is how desperately gale wants to stay in touch with the protag (unromanced) and the friends he's made on their journey together.

not only has he talked to his students about the protag and their adventures at length, he invites the protag to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you.

he is also happy to invite the protag to his tower for the duration of their stay:

Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower. Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

and even if they should refuse his invitation to be a guest lecturer, he hopes they'll at least consider coming to visit him in his tower in waterdeep:

Player: I'll respectfully decline. Sounds too much like hard work to me. Gale: I totally understand. Perhaps our exploits might be a little on the mature side for my students, come to think of it... Gale: Still, at the very least you must come visit me. I've a pantry full of Waterdhavian delicacies and a delightful bottle of Elverquisst with your name on them... devnote: Attempting to persuade the player to visit him, really wants them to come [if the player is illithid] Player: My diet is more... cerebral these days, Gale. You'll need to rethink your menu. Gale: Say no more. There's a wizard in Blackstaff's anatomical department who owes me a favour, no questions asked. All diets will be catered for. I can hardly wait. [if the player rejected to become an illithid] Player: Good food and good company? Now that I can manage. Gale: Excellent, excellent, excellent. I can hardly wait. devnote: Relieved you've accepted his offer

[end of convo for both] Gale: It will give us plenty of time to catch up on your adventures. Gale: I'm very curious to know what you've been up to these past months, but I suspect the telling of that tale would keep you tied to me all evening. Gale: So, in the spirit of selflessness I encourage you to mix and mingle for now. We've time enough to come. devnote: Looking forward to staying in touch with the player

he's crushed if the protag refuses:

Player: Sorry, Gale. I don't think that's going to happen. Gale: Oh. Well, no matter. Dinner alone can be every bit as enjoyable as with company. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it Tara the Tressym: Alone? And what am I - a stuffed toy? Gale: Please - enjoy the rest of your evening. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it

this all ties into another little moment after this first conversation.

if the protag has talked with gale already and has hugged him, there's a second, shorter conversation, in which gale gets choked up as he reminisces over how the party is together once more:

Gale: I can't believe this is real. I never thought we'd gather like this again. devnote: Taking in the moment, appreciating it Gale: It's quite... ahem, yes really quite lovely. devnote: Getting a bit choked up, trying to hide it/breeze past it

tl;dr: gale loves his friends so very, very much and hopes they'll allow him to be able to stay in contact with them.

[nerdy-novelist017]

Perfect (Benny Cross x Shy! Reader pt 7)

The chapter we've all been waiting forrrr! 🤗 I won't lie to you, I'm slightly terrified to post this chapter, but you all are so kind. I hope this is everything you wanted it to be! 🫶

Benny X Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.8k (woah, got a little carried away)

Summary- You've lived your whole life according to what everyone else wanted you to be. Tonight would be the first night of your new life -- one where you decided who you were.

******

You took a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments in an attempt to calm your quickened pulse. You had spent the whole rest of the day yesterday thinking about nothing but your future. What was set in stone and what was up to you. You knew what you didn’t want, that much was clear to you now. But could it be possible to have what you wanted when you weren’t even sure if that was what you were?

By the time you had dressed and made your way downstairs for breakfast, you felt as though you were being torn in two. One side was what your head told you to do, the more sensical side. And the other was what your heart wanted to do, the more exciting side. You entered the kitchen where your mother stood at the stove, her hair still in rollers and an apron tied around her waist as she prepared breakfast. 

“Morning, Mama,��� you greeted quietly as you approached her to help. Cooking breakfast was your usual routine with your mother, a time spent with secretive giggles and never-ending stories. It was a time where the two of you would be uninterrupted, consumed by only each other in your own world. A place where you would complain to her about your boy troubles at school or how the popular girls were mean to you that day. And as you grew older, and things like high school drama no longer seemed to matter, it became a place where you could talk to her about her life. Where she would tell you how to be mindful of the world around you as she taught you to make poached eggs. A place where she had mentioned numerous times how happy she was because of her family, because of you.  A safe place – home. 

“Morning, honey,” she replied as she shot you her usual cheerful smile. “Coffee’s on the table.”

You thanked her as you poured yourself a cup. You put your apron on and began to help with the homemade pancake batter. You were so lost in the endless sea of thoughts that when your mother mentioned a familiar name, you nearly spilled the bowl of batter. 

“What?” you asked as you looked over at her. 

“I said Pete came by, asking for you,” she repeated as she did a double take at your crestfallen expression. 

“He did?” you inquired in a small voice. “Did he . . . say anything?”

“He asked if he could speak with you. He seemed real insistent,” she laughed. “I had to tell him you were in the shower to finally get him to leave.”

At your silence, she continued hesitantly, “How did your date go?”

You sighed, “It was . . . okay.”

“He seems like a real nice guy.” 

You nodded weakly, feeling oddly reluctant to tell her what had happened at the golf course, the anger in his eyes, the sudden volume in his voice as he slammed his hands against the car.

She lowered the spatula she was using to stir the scrambled eggs, and she turned to face you fully. “Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” 

You nodded again but when you glanced up at her, you could see the disbelief in her eyes. You could fool a lot of people, but your mother was never one of them. 

“What’s going on?” she prodded in that controlled mix of gentle firmness that only mothers can conjure. You were silent for several long beats, unsure of how to vocalize your feelings. 

“I don’t think I want to go out with Pete anymore, Mama,” You admitted softly and being able to speak those words aloud for the first time felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off your shoulders so you go on, “I don’t like the way he treats me compared to others. I can’t see myself being married to him.”

She fell quiet for a few agonizing moments, and you worry that you might have said too much. You avoided her gaze, looking down at the raw batter in front of you as you tried to figure out how you can fix what you’ve just said. 

But then, “Is there someone else you met?”

You looked back at her face, your heart sinking at the sight of her serious, unreadable expression and your mouth suddenly felt too dry to speak. You only nodded. 

She looked down at her pan of eggs for a moment. “Was it that blonde boy? The one with the motorcycle?”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “How–?”

“I saw him drop you off last night,” she explained. “I was reading in my bedroom when I heard the engine pull up. And when I looked out the window, I saw the two of you standing there.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the realization that Benny was not a secret of yours anymore. He was living in your reality now, a figure to receive the scutanty of your parents, of your neighbors, of your family. The thought left a pit to form in your gut. 

“Your father will never approve of that, (Y/N),” she said, firmly shooting down your outlandish hopes. “You know that.”

“I know. I just . . . ” you trail off with a sigh as you sink into one of the chairs at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before, Mama. He’s fun and exciting. He just seems to understand me so perfectly. And the way he talks to me, the way he makes me feel about myself . . .”

Your mother abandoned her position at the stove to sit in the chair beside you. “That isn’t a practical choice, honey. It’s not going to guarantee you any stability for your future. I want you to have a good life, to live in a good house with a husband that has a good job. He isn’t that and who knows if he will ever be able to provide you with those things.”

You swallowed the painful lump forming in the back of your throat as you looked down at your lap, knowing that she’s right. 

Her hand slid across the table to grab yours tightly. “But I also saw the look on his face as he watched you walk up to the house. That look of pure devotion and love.” There were tears shining in her eyes as she struggled to speak. “And I realized I have never seen your father look at me the way that boy looked at you.” 

Your heart shattered at her admission, and you squeezed her hand tightly, stunned into silence. 

“All I want in life is for you to be happy. That’s all I want. Every time I see a shooting star or blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I make a wish for you to live a happy life.” She swallowed thickly as her eyes fluttered over your features. “I understand that your happiness might not look the same as mine, and that’s okay. Your father won’t approve of this, and you know how he gets. But I will always support you – always.”

“Oh, Mama,” your voice cracked as you stood quickly to wrap your mother in a tight hug. 

As you stood in the embrace of your mother’s arms, you realized it had been a long time since you had been consoled like this by her. And in this moment, you felt like a little girl again, still in need of your mother’s infinitely understanding advice and kind hugs. Muffled by her sweater, you whispered, “You make me happy, Mama.” 

“You make me happy too, my girl,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled back eventually, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you to choose the thing that will bring you happiness.”

You nodded and she reached out to wipe the tears that had fallen down your cheeks as she said, “Now, help me finish breakfast before those eggs start to burn.”

“Yes, Mama,” you laughed, sniffing as you watched her move back to the stove, noticing the undeniable actions of her swiping at her own tears as she did. 

And now you stand, at the threshold of someplace you’d never expected to be, you’re nervous, but sure of yourself. Thunder rolled through the sky as a storm brewed in the distance, and you almost laughed at the realization that you had successfully outran the storm, a strangely comforting irony. Releasing your breath, you push open the door before you could give it another thought. 

The inside of the Vandals clubhouse is bustling with people, more than you had ever seen in one small place. Cigarette smoke filtered through the air, covering the environment in a haze. Loud voices, glass clinking, cue balls clacking against the pool tables all mix together with the music playing from the jukebox in the back. Overwhelmed, you stand in the doorway for a moment, eyes scanning through the sea of bodies covered in the infamous Vandals colors. After a moment of hesitation and a brief thought of turning around and going back out the door you came in, you pushed on, sliding into the room like a boat into a river. Weaving your way through the packed bar, you passed a few tables where someone bumped into you as they stood from their seat. You apologized and tried to move by, but the unfamiliar man reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“Where are you off to, pretty little thing?” he asked, his voice slurring as he tried to grin at you but he must have been seeing double because his eyesight was staring at the spot over your right shoulder. Before you could respond, someone else from the table spoke up, his voice barely heard over the noise of the bar.

“Hey, I know you,” he said, his dark slicked back hair and clean shaven face familiar, but you couldn’t place his name. “You’re Benny’s girl.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words and you shrunk into yourself a bit, losing a bit of your already wavering confidence.

“It’s Wahoo,” he clarified as he too stood from his seat, moving to grab his drunk friend and pull him away from you. “Don’t let him bother you, he didn’t know who you were, was all.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. “Is Benny here?”

“Yeah, ’was over by the pool table in the back last I saw,” Wahoo responded as he pointed in the general direction. 

You tried to steady your pounding heart as you made your way to the back of the bar. Brushing into a temporarily clear path, that’s when your eyes found his tall, lean figure, that dirty blonde hair and wicked grin. Your steps faltered a bit. He hadn’t seen you yet, you could still turn around and go back to your ordinary life. But that wasn’t what you wanted anymore. You were scared, but you were here anyway. You approached the table where you saw other faces you recognized (Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Zipco and a few others whose names you hadn’t committed to memory yet) but none of them were your primary focus. 

Gail was the first to notice you nearing, and she elbowed her husband to get his attention as she said something you couldn’t quite detect in the loudness of the bar. But her commotion with Brucie garnered Johnny’s interest as he two turned to look at you, a smile breaking out across his face. Benny turned from his sidestance, his eyes scanning over the crowd in an attempt to see what was so important to distract the players while the game continued. His eyes roved over your face for a fleeting second, continuing on before jumping back to you in a flustered doubletake. 

Then suddenly, you were on the other end of the pool table, directly across from Benny who looked at you as though you were an apparition. You leaned your hands to rest against the pool table, trying to look more confident than you were as you felt the eyes of every person near the pool table on you. 

“Bunny?” Benny asked, almost speechless as he handed his pool stick off to Zipco. He rounded the table to be closer to you as he continued. “What–what are you doin’ here?” 

“I came to speak with you,” you respond, eyes glancing at the others around the table before landing on him again. “To ask you something.”

He got the hint loud and clear. “C’mon,” he said as he grabbed your hand in his own and pulled you through the room to the backdoor where he pushed it open and motioned for you to go first. 

It had already begun to rain lightly, tiny droplets hitting the concrete with a gentle pitter patter. The coolness of the outside air surrounded you in a pleasant way compared to the atmosphere inside. There were a few bikers out back smoking and talking, but Benny didn’t seem to mind their presence as he led you down the way, keeping under the dry safety of the overhang. 

“Is it always that busy?” you ask when you both stopped. With your back against the brick wall and Benny standing just in front of you, the overhang didn’t offer much room from the rain. But that didn’t seem to bother him either as his eyes were locked onto you despite the roof runoff hitting his jacket. 

“No.” He shook his head. “There was a convention in town today and most of those guys in there are from Columbus. I’m sure that’s pretty overwhelming for you.” 

Your heart fluttered at his gentle squeeze of your hand and you were acutely aware that he hadn’t let you go since pulling you along out here. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“Did you walk here?” he asked, and thunder rumbled somewhere behind him.

“No, I rode my bicycle,” you replied. “Bike, I should say, makes me sound cool like you guys.”

“You’re way cooler than me, Bunny,” he said, his voice low as he wore a lopsided smile.

You couldn’t help but mirror his expression as you looked up at him, realizing just how close the two of you were. The scent of his cologne tickled your nose in a way that sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. It was almost unfair, you realized, that he was so effortlessly attractive – he looked good, he sounded good, he smelled good – and you don’t think he even knew the effect he had on you. And he had the audacity to look at you like you were the gem. 

“What?” he asked after your beat of silence, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Nothing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you blurted out the question that had been burning inside you the entire ride here. “Do you want to go to California with me?”

“Right now?” 

“No.” You tried to cover your giggle. “I mean, some day. I do want to go. Remember when we talked about it?”

“I remember.”

Benny’s unwavering gaze caused your heart rate to speed up but you trudged on, “I’ve always thought it wasn’t a practical dream, that somehow it couldn’t be me who walked down the beach because I'd been too busy with school and then school became work and work would become marriage and keeping house.” Your carefully rehearsed speech began to fragment as you spilled your jumbled thoughts. “But I realized that is so silly because it’s my life, and I–I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. And I want to go to California to see the Pacific Ocean, and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.  So . . . what do you say?”

He stepped closer to you, his face just inches from yours, his voice incredibly gentle as he said, “I think I'd go just about anywhere you asked me to, Bunny. But are you sure it’s me who you’re wantin’ here?”

Your brow furrowed slightly at his response. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m not the kind of guy girls like you fall for. I’m the exact opposite.” His free hand reached out and brushed a tendril of your hair behind your ear as his voice dropped an octave. “But when I'm with you . . . I feel like I could do better. Like maybe I could be better. Not perfect, but something closer to worthy.”

“I’ve been perfect my whole life. Perfect grades, perfect smile, a perfectly quiet doll on the shelf.” You look at the biker standing before you. The exact opposite of what you’ve been surrounded by your entire life. The exact person you’ve been told to stay away from. But there were things that you noticed about him now that you hadn’t when you first saw him at the picnic. Those hands, calloused and scarred from years of fighting, were holding your own gently as if you were made of glass. That mouth, capable of verbally hurting just about anyone who got in his way, only ever spoke softly to you. Those eyes which have undoubtedly seen their fair share of the worst of humanity, gaze at you as if you were the moon. This man, the excitement you feel you’ve been unknowingly waiting for your whole life. You stepped closer to him, your noses brushing together softly as you whispered, “I don’t think I want perfect anymore.”

“What do you want, Bunny?” he asked, an unmistakable vulnerability in his raw voice. 

Your answer to him in nonverbal as you closed the gap between you, lips pressing against his softly. The world seemed to pause as you gently kissed Benny, your heart pounding in your chest. The kiss was soft at first, tentative as you both seemed to test the waters of something new and uncharted. Overcome by your overthinking, you began to draw back, but Benny’s palm cupped the side of your face, pulling you back to him with a more meaningful kiss. His lips were warm and rough, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand held yours early as he deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency that sent a wave of heat to fill your core. His hand moved to protect the back of your head as he backed you up to the cool brick of the wall behind you. 

Benny’s mind was racing with a whirlwind of emotions he wasn’t used to feeling. He had been careful, so careful, to keep his distance, to remind himself that a girl like you would never be with a man like him. He had hoped, prayed, that you might return even an ounce of his feelings for you, but he had to be realistic. You were a beautiful dream, so far out of his reach. But now with your lips on his, your fragile hands clutching the fabric of his jacket, he couldn’t deny the truth any longer. You were breaking down every wall he had built, showing him that just maybe, he was worth more than he believed. 

He had never kissed anyone like this before – with a mix of tenderness and passion that made his heart ache in a way that both terrified and galvanized him. He moved his hand down your side, gripping your hip tightly. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want this moment to end. Because in this kiss, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: hope.

He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t good enough– that his life was too rough, too messy for someone like you. But in this moment, as your breath mingled with his own and your heartbeat racing against his chest, he started to believe, even just a little, that he could be the man you saw in him. That he could be worthy of this, of you. 

Your lips parted slightly, and Benny took the invitation, kissing you with a newfound fervor, pouring all his sentiments into it – the longing, the fear, the hope. The connection between you felt electric, and for the first time in a long time, Benny didn’t feel lost. He felt found. Found by you, found by this moment. 

This is real, he thought almost in disbelief, She chose me. He could hardly comprehend it, but the evidence was right there in the way that you kissed him back with equal intensity, the way you clung to him as if he was the only thing grounding you. His lungs burned and he had to pull back, but he kept his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your cheek. I don’t deserve her, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, but for the first time, another voice – a stronger one– countered, Maybe I could someday. 

He opened his eyes, seeing the softness in your gaze, the way your parted lips were slightly swollen from the kiss. It hit him then, like a bolt of lightning. He wanted to be better, not just for himself, but for you. Because you deserved more than just a rough-edged biker, you deserved the world. And if you’d let him, Benny was determined to give it to you. 

“Was–was that okay?” you asked breathlessly, unsure if you’d done it right, but hoping he had felt what you couldn’t put into words. 

His eyes softened even more as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It was more than okay, Bunny.”

Your smile grew, a little more confident now, despite the heat tinging your cheeks. Suddenly the backdoor squeaked open and Brucie poked his head out the doorway. 

“Benny, you’re up to shoot, kid,” he said and must have seen the closeness of your bodies, the way Benny still held onto your waist because he smirked smugly. 

Benny didn’t even glance over. “Tell ‘em to hold my spot.”

“Pool?” you asked, tugging on his jacket lightly as Brucie disappeared back inside. 

Benny nodded, grinning lazily down at you. “Yeah, you ever played?”

You shook your head, feeling a little shy. “No, never. But . . . I’d like to try.”

He raised his eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You want me to teach you?”

You nodded, this time with more certainty. “I think I’d like that.”

He took your hand, leading you back inside as the rain continued to pour around you. As he lead you back into the bar, the noise and constant chatter engulfing you once again, you felt reassured by the steady warmth of his hand in yours. And he didn't let go of your hand even when you got to the table. A few members cheered and teased Benny, but he only smiled and shook his head, his focus on you, instead. He stood behind you, positioning you gently. 

“Here’s the thing,” he murmured, his voice low and just for you. “You don’t have to know everything right away. Sometimes it’s about the journey, not just the win.”

You looked over your shoulder with a small smile, your faces only inches apart. “I think I’m ready for the journey.”

Benny’s gaze gentled. “So am I, Bunny. So am I.”

-Tag List-

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[yumeka-sxf]

According to this tweet from Endo, today's new chapter will be the final installment of the "Henry x Martha backstory" arc...and it definitely went out on a high note! The part where Martha meets Henry's wife was absolutely heartbreaking...in particular the below page, starting with an upside down view of the scene, showing how the world is literally warping for Martha, followed by shards and shreds of her various memories with Henry, all the while the "throb, throb" of her heart is overlaying all the panels. Definitely one of Endo's best portrayals of a truly shocking moment.

It's also interesting that we never see Lucia's face, despite her having a big panel when she first appears.

Endo has done this before with other characters, Loid's parents being the other big example. We also never see their faces, despite them appearing several times during his flashback arc.

With the few examples we've had, to me it seems like Endo hides the faces of characters who 1) appear as flashbacks only and 2) who have had a significant emotional impact on the character whose memories they appear in, but at the same time, that character has since done their best to get over the painful memories associated with them. So they basically represent some past trauma for the character (even if they don't necessarily dislike them) but in the current time, they've more or less left that part of their past behind. Hence why their faces are obscured in the character's memories. This is also why I think we'll never see Loid's parents or Lucia's faces outside of flashbacks. This is just my interpretation of course, and I'm curious if there will be more examples in other characters' flashback arcs.

But back to Henry and Martha, I also liked the fact that, despite her broken heart, Martha still saw Lucia as a good person and became friends with her. Henry seems to love her as well. This actually ties back very well to what Martha tells Becky at the end of her story about how dangerous it is to latch onto preconceptions and prejudices without knowing the truth.

In Becky's simple world, she would see Lucia as the "evil seductress who stole Henry away" and Martha has to get him back. But as Martha said, things aren't always that simple and don't always adhere to our preconceived notions. Sometimes things can't end up exactly how you want or expect, so you have to be grateful for what you have and see things as they truly are, despite living with lingering regrets. In fact, this whole speech from Martha at the conclusion of her flashback was extremely deep and profound. Not many people can write both comedy and drama so well, but Endo is certainly one of them.

Also, is this Wiesel's first appearance? Still waiting for the doggy play date chapter with Wiesel, Bond, Max, and Aaron! 🐶

Since it's been so long since I read the first chapter of this arc, I couldn't remember if Martha had actually revealed the identity of her lover in her story, but makes sense that she didn't. I can imagine Becky storming into school yelling at Henderson and causing total embarrassment for all 😅 Funny that she almost guessed correctly though.

I'm surprised we never found out how Martha started working for the Blackbells, but that's an easy enough mystery to solve - she needed work after the wars were over, and being a bodyguard suited an ex-soldier. Also seems like she never told Henry her true feelings either...maybe by the time Lucia died, it was too late and they had both grown somewhat apart by then, and/or they had some additional falling outs about Martha joining the other wars, etc. It just wasn't meant to be and the message of the story was Martha coming to terms with that and being wiser for it.

In conclusion, this was a great arc that really shows Endo's range as a writer who can do both comedy and drama very well. Despite Henry and Martha being side characters, I have a feeling that the struggles they experienced will have relevance later in the series. But for now, I look forward to seeing the Forgers and other characters again (and getting back to the last major uproar of Anya telling Damian about her powers...seems like ages ago, lol). Endo will be taking a well deserved break, so the next new chapter will be on August 19th!

I also have some new posts planned in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for those as well 😀

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Fourteen - His Pretty, Little Wife

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

The next chapter is going to be the midway point, basically. We've still got so much more plot to come and I really don't know how long this story is going to be, it's already 25.5K long all together

1.8K words

Series Masterlist

Marie. The cook that Carlos fucked was called Marie.

It was easy for Y/N to find her; she didn’t think she would ever forget that face. When she walked down into the kitchens, Marie’s face went pale. She let out an alarmed squeak and went to hide behind another one of the cooks.

From the way Y/N was dressed, she didn’t blame Marie for hiding away. She was meant to be powerful and imposing, mirroring the aura her husband gave off. The long, black dress with the slit up the side of the skirt, and heeled boots. It was gorgeous, making Y/N look ever the part of the powerful mafia wife her mother once was.

“Relax, Marie,” Y/N said as she leaned against the worktop, staring at her.

The employee she was hiding behind cleared his throat and stepped out of the way, leaving Marie at Y/N’s mercy.

She gulped as she looked at the lady of the house. “Please, mi señora, no quise hacer daño,” she cried. She fell to her knees, clasping her hands together, tears springing to her eyes.

Y/N sucked in a breath. Her Spanish lessons had been going well enough that she could pick up a couple of words and peace together the sentence. Please, my lady, Marie had said, I meant no harm. She took a moment to formulate a response.

It may have made her appear weak, but Y/N didn’t care. “Marie, esta bien,” She said, unfolding her arms. (Marie, it is okay). “Tengo una propuesta para ti.” But this was where she stopped being able to speak to Marie in her native tongue.

She sucked in a deep breath. “Your sleeping with my husband is not something I blame you for, okay? If it had been me sleeping with another man, my husband would have had him killed.” Marie let out a cry. “But I don’t want to have you killed. I will not have you killed. What I want to do is to set you up, with enough money that you won’t need to work,” she said.

“Mi señora,” said Marie as she fell to her knees, gasping sobs leaving her lips.

“I’ll give you the money, enough to set you up for life, as long as you leave wordlessly and tell nobody where you’re going.”

Gulping, Marie nodded her head. She’d do as her lady asked, from fear she’d lose her life.

Carlos’s money was now Y/N’s money, too. She could do what she wanted with it, and what she wanted to do was set Marie up somewhere nice.

She took the money and found Marie somewhere to live. It was on the very edge of the Sainz territory, somewhere they’d never think to look. She gave Marie the money and helped her to escape in the dead of night.

Marie would never admit it, but she was grateful to señora Sainz, for helping her get away from this life of crime. It was no little girls dream to serve the biggest crime family in Spain, but, once you got in, there was no way out. Y/N was offering her a helping hand, and Marie jumped to take it.

Y/N made her way to Carlos’s office. She pushed past the men guarding the door, who no longer bothered to stop her, and took her seat at Carlos’s desk. In his chair, with his feet up on the top of the desk.

It was a risk, sitting in his seat, but it was a risk Y/N was willing to take. There was no telling how he would react when he came back in from the garden, to see her sitting in his seat.

But Y/N didn’t have to wait for very long. Carlos came back in from the garden, not paying much attention as he strode across his office.

But then he spied her, sitting at his desk. A smirk crossed his face. “Hello, my pretty, little wife,” he said, sitting in one of the seats on the other side of the desk. He leaned back as he stared at her. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Have you seen Marie recently?” Asked Y/N as she looked at him over the top of her boots.

Carlos let the smile drop from his face. “No, Y/N, I haven’t,” he answered.

“I wonder why that could be.”

It took Carlos a moment to realise what she meant. They’d played that game of chess nearly a week ago, the dots were hard to connect. But, once he got it, Carlos let that same smirk cross his face once ago. “Oh Dios mío,” he said with a shake of his head. “My pretty little wife had somebody killed. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Carlos liked it. For some unexplainable reason, Carlos liked it. He liked the fact that she had somebody killed. This wasn’t what Y/N expected. She didn’t really know what to do now. But she didn’t shift, didn’t move. She kept her gaze on Carlos, feet on the table. “You said you’d kill any man I slept with, so I thought I’d return the favour.”

“Did you know Marie had a family?” Carlos asked as he leaned back. “Her husband died, bless her, but she had two little boys. Mateo and Diego. I wonder what they will do without their mother. Well, I wonder how long they’ll last without her.”

As he said it, Carlos watched for Y/N’s reaction, and Y/N knew that. But it was hard to know how to react. Marie had already told her about Diego and Mateo, and Y/N had given her enough for the whole family to get away. But Carlos didn’t know that. He was expecting her to be distraught.

But that was what the old Y/N would have done, what the weak Y/N would have done.

She found the balance, picking at her nails as she said, “I didn’t know that,” she mumbled, no longer meeting his gaze.

Carlos smirked as he stood from his seat and straightened out his suit jacket. “No matter, mi amor, it is no concern of ours.” He pulled Y/N’s chair back, making her legs fall from the desk. Carlos kissed the top of her head and stood her up from the chair, taking her place. “You can stay with me, querida, sit on my lap while I have meetings,” he said, wearing a devilish grin.

Y/N quickly shook her head and rushed out of the office. What Carlos had just offered, all because he thought she had somebody killed, was that a step in the right direction? Was that evidence that Carlos was going to start respecting her? Only time would tell.

***

This was one of those rare instances where Carlos’s family didn’t join them for dinner. Family dinners was something Sainz was very passionate about, and he’d insisted they’d all meet at Carlos’s house while Y/N was settling in. But this was the last week where Carlos would host the dinner and soon they’d be returning to dinners at Sainz’s.

But tonight, there was no family dinner. Carlos still insisted he and Y/N ate together, though.

After her Spanish lesson, one of Carlos’s men came to get her. They’d begun to speak to her in Spanish, and Y/N had to try her best to understand them. If she couldn’t understand them, they’d try again in English, something she was grateful for.

Y/N stood from the table. “Gracias señora,” she said to her Spanish tutor and walked out of the library.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked out to the patio. She stood in front of the pool for just a second, looking at the reflection of the clouds in the sky. Every morning Carlos went for his daily swim, and Y/N would have been lying if she said she didn’t watch him.

She looked towards the table, where the kitchen staff were laying the food out on the table. It was a lot for two people, far too much. There was no sign of Maria as they laid the table.

No sign of her husband either.

But then Y/N looked towards the other side of the garden, towards the fire pit. It wasn’t lit, but Carlos was sat there, cigarette between his lips.

She strode towards him, walking across the patio, towards her husband. He looked up at his, dark eyes following her as she approached. “I didn’t know you smoked,” she said as she came to stand in front of him.

Carlos released the smoke from his lungs and looked up at his wife. He wrapped his arm around her place, pulling her close. “Does my pretty little wife not like it when I smoke?” He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. His face was level with her stomach, so close to…

Y/N shook her thoughts away. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, ever step calculating. “Oh no, Carlos,” she said, slowly getting closer to him. “I couldn’t care less,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Standing up straight she walked away from him, hips swaying from side to side as she walked around the pool, making her way to the table.

She looked towards the golf course. Since she’d married Carlos, she hadn’t seen the golf course be used once. It was a favourite pastime of her brothers, back when he was allowed to have pastimes. If they were a normal couple, if they had married for love, Y/N was sure she would have gotten him to teach her some golf while she taught him how to play the perfect game of chess. But, instead, Y/N was left longing for that life, for the husband who would teach her golf and swim with her in the pool, who would stop smoking because she asked and hold her close as they sat around the fire pit.

Her eyes moved towards Carlos, watching as he finished the cigarette. She didn’t know when he had started calling her his pretty, little wife. But she wasn’t complaining. It made her knees weak, hearing those words leave his pretty lips.

Y/N watched as he stubbed out his cigarette and walked around the pool, sitting himself at the table opposite her. He wore that same amused smile as he began putting things on Y/N’s plate. Fuck, she wanted him. She wanted him so bad.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa23 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal

[wonyowonyo]

COURTSHIP (K. Minji X M! Reader)

Hello there wonyowonyo here! I'm back with another update :0 This one is one of the 3 requested oneshots I was talking about previously. As for the other 2, I'm still working on them so I hope you guys do wait for them! Idk when I'll finish it, since I'm starting get busy a bit, but I'll try to finish those requests! Anyways no more yapping, this one was abt 5.6k words! As always, I hope you guys enjoy this one! see yall later ^^

Y/N has always had a passion for basketball. As the star player of his high school team, the court is where you feel most alive. But lately, there’s been something — or rather, someone — distracting Y/N.

Minji.

Minji, with her bright smile and infectious energy, has been the topic of many of Y/N’s daydreams. She’s in his class, and while she’s friendly and approachable, she’s also incredibly dense when it comes to his feelings. Despite his best efforts, she just doesn’t seem to get it.

————————————————————

The gym was alive with energy as Ador High faced off against their rivals, Hanlim High. The bleachers were packed with students, teachers, and parents, all roaring with excitement. Banners waved, and the school band played spirited tunes to keep the energy high.

Y/N, the team's star player, stood tall at the center of the court, his eyes scanning the crowd. His teammates huddled around him, their faces a mix of determination and anticipation. Coach Kim gave them a final pep talk, emphasizing teamwork and focus.

"Remember, guys, we've trained hard for this, let’s win this and punch our way to the finals." Coach Kim said, clapping his hands for emphasis. "Stay sharp, watch your passes, and keep the pressure on. Y/N, you're our ace player. Lead us to victory."

Y/N nodded, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He lived for moments like these, the thrill of the game, the roar of the crowd. But today, something—or rather, someone—was distracting him.

As the referee blew the whistle to start the game, Y/N's eyes wandered to the stands. There, among the sea of faces, he spotted Minji. She was easy to find, her energetic presence like a beacon in the crowd. Her long hair was tied in a ponytail, and she wore the school's colors, waving a homemade sign that read, "Go Y/N! You're the best!"

Minji's smile was infectious, and Y/N felt a flutter in his chest. He quickly shook it off, reminding himself he had a game to win.

The tip-off was won by Ador High, and Y/N immediately took control of the ball. He moved with precision and grace, dribbling past defenders with ease. The crowd's cheers grew louder with each successful play.

"Y/N! Over here!" shouted his teammate, Jisoo, who was in a perfect position near the basket.

Y/N feinted left, sending his defender off balance, and passed the ball to Jisoo, who scored with a clean shot. The crowd erupted, and Y/N exchanged a quick high-five with Jisoo before getting back into position.

Among the cheering, Y/N's eyes kept drifting back to Minji. She was jumping up and down, excitement radiating from her. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Y/N found himself smiling despite the intensity of the game.

As the first quarter progressed, Y/N continued to shine, making key plays and scoring crucial points. Ador High were ahead, but Hanlim High were relentless, keeping the pressure on.

During a brief timeout, Y/N sat on the bench, gulping down water. His coach patted him on the back. "Great job out there, Y/N. Keep it up."

Y/N nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. His thoughts drifted back to Minji. He wondered if she had any idea how much her support meant to him. Probably not, he mused, given how dense she could be about these things.

The game resumed, and Y/N's focus sharpened. He executed a flawless crossover, leaving his defender in the dust, and drove towards the basket. As he leaped for a layup, two defenders swooped in, trying to stop his attack.

The ball sailed through the hoop, and the crowd roared. Y/N landed gracefully as he caught a glimpse of Minji in the stands, her eyes wide with admiration. His heart pounded not just from the exertion but from the thrill of seeing Minji's reaction.

At halftime, Ador High led by a slim margin. The team gathered in the locker room, strategizing for the second half. Y/N's mind, however, was partially elsewhere. He couldn't help but think about Minji, her infectious energy, and the way she made his heart race.

"Y/N, you good?" asked Jisoo, noticing his friend's distraction.

"Yeah, just thinking about the game," Y/N replied, though his thoughts were more about Minji than the game plan.

Back on the court for the second half, Y/N refocused his efforts. Hanlim High were playing more aggressively, and the game became a fierce battle of skill and endurance. Y/N's leadership and skill were pivotal in maintaining their lead.

With the final minutes ticking down, the score was tied. The tension in the gym was palpable. Y/N knew this was it—the moment to seal their victory. He dribbled past two defenders, his eyes locked on the basket.

"Y/N! You can do it!" Minji's voice cut through the noise, loud and clear.

Spurred on by her encouragement, Y/N made his move. He executed a perfect spin and launched the ball towards the basket. The gym fell silent for a breathless moment as the ball sailed through the air.

Swish.

The buzzer sounded, and the crowd erupted in deafening cheers. Ador High had won. Y/N's teammates mobbed him, lifting him onto their shoulders. Amid the celebration, Y/N's eyes found Minji's. She was clapping and cheering, her face beaming with pride.

As he was carried off the court, Y/N couldn't help but think that this victory was not just for 

the team, but for Minji. Her support had fueled his determination and made the win even sweeter.

————————————————————

After the game, Y/N was in high spirits. Ador High had won, and he was determined to use the victory high to confess his feelings to Minji. He found her waiting outside the locker room, her smile brighter than the gym lights.

"Hey, Minji! Thanks for coming to the game," Y/N said, trying to keep his cool.

"Of course! You're amazing out there, Y/N!" Minji replied, her eyes sparkling.

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I—"

Just then, a teammate interrupted, slapping Y/N on the back. "Great game, man! We're heading to the diner to celebrate. You in?"

Y/N shot his teammate a frustrated look but managed a smile. "Yeah, I'll be there in a bit."

Minji, completely missing Y/N's attempt at a confession, clapped her hands. "Ooh, can I come too?"

Y/N sighed inwardly but couldn't say no to her. "Sure, why not?"

————————————————————

At the local diner, the basketball team was loud and boisterous, celebrating their recent win. The energy was infectious, and even the usually reserved Y/N found himself laughing along with his teammates. But amidst the chaos, he couldn't take his eyes off Minji, who was engrossed in conversation with their friends, a milkshake in her hand.

Y/N decided it was now or never. He needed a moment alone with her. "Hey, Minji, can we talk?" he asked, trying to catch her attention.

Minji looked up, her face smeared with whipped cream. "Sure, Y/N! What's up?"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "You, uh, have a little something on your face."

Minji wiped her face with a napkin and smiled brightly. "Thanks! So, what did you want to talk about?"

Taking a deep breath, Y/N began, "Minji, I really—"

Before he could finish, a waiter tripped, sending a tray of drinks flying. Instinctively, Y/N pulled Minji out of the way, and they ended up in a tangled heap on the floor, laughing.

"Wow, Y/N, you're like a superhero!" Minji giggled, completely oblivious to the romantic tension.

Y/N sighed, thinking to himself, How can someone be so dense?

As they got up, Minji dusted herself off. "Thanks for saving me, Y/N. That was close!"

"No problem," Y/N replied, trying to hide his frustration. "Uh, so, about what I wanted to say—"

"Hey, Y/N! Minji! Come join us for a group photo!" one of their teammates called out, waving a camera.

Minji grabbed Y/N's hand. "Let's go! It'll be fun!"

Y/N followed, his chance for confession slipping away once again. They squeezed into the group, and the camera flashed, capturing Minji's bright smile and Y/N's slightly forced one.

"Alright, on the count of three, say 'cheese'!" the teammate said.

"Cheese!" everyone chorused, and the camera clicked again.

As the evening wore on, Y/N found himself continually thwarted by interruptions. Every time he tried to steer Minji away for a private conversation, someone would call her over or something would happen to derail his attempts.

By the end of the night, Y/N was exhausted. As they walked out of the diner, Minji looked at him with a puzzled expression. "You seemed like you had something important to say earlier. What was it?"

Y/N gave a weary smile. "It's nothing, Minji. Really."

She patted his shoulder. "Well, if it's important, you'll tell me eventually. Right?"

"Yeah," Y/N said, feeling a twinge of frustration. "Eventually."

————————————————————

Determined to make his feelings clear, Y/N invited Minji to study together in the library. He thought the quiet atmosphere would be perfect for a heart-to-heart.

"Minji, there's something important I need to tell you," Y/N began, his palms sweaty as he fidgeted with his notes.

Minji looked up from her book, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I—"

Before he could continue, Minji gasped. "Oh no! I forgot to feed my goldfish this morning!" She jumped up, knocking over her chair in the process.

Y/N facepalmed. "Minji, your goldfish will be fine for a few more hours."

Minji sat back down, looking relieved. "You're right. Sorry, Y/N. What were you saying?"

Y/N shook his head, trying to keep his frustration in check. "I really, really—"

Just then, the librarian shushed them loudly, and they both burst out laughing, earning more stern looks from the librarian.

Minji covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. "We should probably keep it down, huh?"

"Yeah, probably," Y/N agreed, still chuckling.

They returned to their books, and Y/N tried to focus on his studies, but his mind kept drifting back to what he wanted to say. After a few minutes of silence, he decided to try again.

"Minji, I—"

This time, Minji's phone buzzed loudly. She quickly grabbed it, glancing at the screen. "Oh, it's my mom. She wants to know if I need a ride home."

Y/N's shoulders slumped. "Do you?"

Minji shook her head. "Nah, I'll walk. It's a nice day out."

"Okay." Y/N took another deep breath. "Minji, I—"

The librarian appeared out of nowhere, glaring at them. "If you two can't keep it down, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Sorry," they both mumbled, trying not to laugh.

Once the librarian had gone, Minji turned to Y/N. "It's really hard to have a conversation here, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," Y/N admitted, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement.

"Maybe we can talk later? After we finish studying?" Minji suggested.

"Sure," Y/N agreed, hoping that later would bring fewer interruptions.

During their “study” session, Y/N was determined to finally get his message across. Instead of actually studying, Y/N was racking his brain for ideas to confess his feelings to Minji. After a minute of brainstorming, he decided to write Minji a letter, hoping that putting his feelings into words would make things clearer. He spent hours crafting the perfect confession, pouring his heart onto the page. He tried to be sneaky as possible, trying to avoid the attention of the laser-focused Minji who’s diligently studying just in front of him.

After spending hours on the library, the pair decided to finally call it quits, as they both left the school premise to walk home. Y/N tried to act as natural as possible as he walked beside Minji who was busy sightseeing. Pushing down his nervousness and finally deciding to make his move, Y/N cleared his throat to get the attention of Minji. 

“H-hey, here. Read this.” Just as he was about to hand the letter to Minji, a strong gust of wind blew it out of his hand. Y/N watched in horror as the letter fluttered through the air and landed in a puddle.

Minji picked it up, her eyes widening as she read the waterlogged, smudged words. "Uh, Y/N? Why does this say you want to 'beef' with me?"

Y/N facepalmed, realizing the ink had smeared beyond recognition. "It was supposed to say I want to be with you'!"  He screamed internally.

Minji giggled, completely missing the point again. "Oh, Y/N, you're so funny! But I don't think fighting would be a good idea."

Y/N sighed, shaking his head but unable to stay mad at her. "Yeah, you're right. Fighting's not my style."

————————————————————

One weekend, Y/N asked Minji to go to the amusement park, hoping a fun day out would provide the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Minji exclaimed as they arrived at the park, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

They rode roller coasters, played games, and ate cotton candy. Y/N couldn't remember the last time he had so much fun, but he was still looking for the right moment to confess.

As they stood in line for the Ferris wheel, Y/N decided it was now or never. The view from the top, the gentle sway of the cabin—it all felt so romantic.

"Minji, I—" Y/N began, but Minji cut him off with a delighted squeal.

"Look, Y/N! We're almost at the front of the line! I can't wait to see the view from the top!" Minji exclaimed, completely missing his attempt at a confession.

Y/N sighed inwardly but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. One of these days, she'll understand.

They climbed into the Ferris wheel cabin, and as it slowly ascended, Y/N's heart pounded. He looked over at Minji, who was gazing out at the park below with wide eyes.

"It's so beautiful," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N agreed, though he was looking at her rather than the view.

As they reached the top, Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I—"

Minji turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "Yes?"

Y/N felt his courage falter. "I—really like this view."

Minji laughed. "Me too! It's amazing up here."

Y/N sighed, kicking himself for chickening out. He needed to find the right moment, but it seemed like every time he tried, something got in the way.

After the Ferris wheel, they wandered around the park, playing more games and enjoying the various attractions. As the sun began to set, they found themselves at a quiet spot near the park's lake.

"Minji, there's something I need to tell you," Y/N said, his heart pounding once again.

Minji looked at him, her expression serious for once. "What is it, Y/N?"

Just as Y/N was about to speak, a group of kids ran by, laughing and shouting, interrupting the moment.

Y/N groaned inwardly. "Never mind. It's not important."

Minji frowned. "Are you sure? It seemed important."

Y/N forced a smile. "Yeah, it's fine. Let's just enjoy the rest of the day."

Minji nodded, though she still looked concerned. "Okay, if you say so."

The annual school festival was a big event, and Y/N saw it as another opportunity to get closer to Minji. They wandered through the various stalls, played games, and enjoyed the performances. Minji's laughter was infectious, and Y/N found himself falling for her even more.

"Let's try the ring toss!" Minji suggested, dragging Y/N over to a game booth.

"Alright, but I'm warning you, I'm not very good at this," Y/N said with a grin.

Minji laughed. "That's okay! It's just for fun."

They each took turns tossing rings, and Minji managed to win a small stuffed bear. She handed it to Y/N with a smile. "Here, this is for you."

Y/N accepted the bear, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Thanks, Minji."

As the day went on, they continued to enjoy the festival together. Y/N couldn't help but notice how happy Minji seemed, and it made him even more determined to tell her how he felt.

At the end of the day, there was a fireworks display. Y/N and Minji found a spot on the school rooftop to watch. The sky lit up with brilliant colors, and Y/N felt the perfect moment had arrived.

"Minji, there's something I've been wanting to tell you," Y/N said, turning to face her, his heart pounding in his chest.

Minji looked at him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I really—"

Minji suddenly gasped, cutting him off. "Oh my gosh, Y/N! Are you going to tell me that you’ll finally teach me basketball for my P.E class?!"

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off. "Uh... what?"

Minji nodded enthusiastically. "I knew it! You kept trying to deny my request, but in the end you still have a soft spot for me huh, Y/N!"

Y/N stared at her, dumbfounded. "I was actually busy back then, Minji. But that's not what I—"

"Shhh, the fireworks are starting!" Minji exclaimed, turning her attention back to the sky.

Y/N sighed, shaking his head as he stared at the night sky. One of these days, she'll understand. Hopefully.

As the fireworks exploded overhead, Y/N felt a mix of frustration and hope. He knew he would eventually get through to Minji, but for now, he would just enjoy the moment with her.

————————————————————

That night, after yet another failed attempt to confess his feelings, Y/N lay in bed, feeling both elated and exasperated. He replayed all the missed opportunities in his head, each one more ridiculous than the last.

First, there was the locker room interruption. Then, the diner disaster. The study session? Don’t even get him started. The amusement park and the school festival were supposed to be perfect, but of course, things had to go hilariously wrong.

He grabbed his pillow and screamed into it, letting out all his pent-up frustration. "Why, Minji? Why are you so dense?!" he muttered dramatically, throwing his hands in the air.

Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Minji:

Minji: Hey Y/N, I just realized... were you trying to tell me something important today?

Y/N stared at his phone, his mouth agape. He couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He quickly typed back:

Y/N: Yes, Minji. Yes, I was.

Minji: LOL! I'm such a dummy. But I’m glad you're my friend! Anyways, see you tomorrow at the local park 😊

Y/N sighed, shaking his head but smiling. "Better late than never," he muttered, feeling the weight of all those missed opportunities lift off his shoulders.

————————————————————

The next day, true to her word, Minji showed up at the local basketball court, eager to learn. Y/N couldn't help but admire her enthusiasm, even if she was a bit clumsy with the ball.

"Okay, first you need to dribble like this," Y/N demonstrated, bouncing the ball with ease.

Minji tried to mimic him but ended up fumbling the ball. She laughed, a sound that always made Y/N's heart melt. "This is harder than it looks!"

Y/N moved closer, gently guiding her hands. "Here, let me help you."

He stood behind her, his hands over hers, guiding her movements. As they practiced, Y/N realized that Minji's determination was part of her charm. Her cheerful personality and genuine innocence made every moment with her feel like an adventure. However, she can be dense as a mountain when it comes to feelings.

"Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it," Y/N encouraged, smiling.

Minji pouted playfully. "I hope so. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of everyone."

"You won't," Y/N assured her. "You're doing great."

As the afternoon went on, Minji's skills slowly improved. She laughed and stumbled, but she never gave up. Her persistence reminded Y/N of why he cared for her so much. She was a beacon of positivity in his life, always looking at the bright side.

They took a break, sitting on the court and sipping water. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the gym.

"Thank you for teaching me, Y/N," Minji said, her eyes sincere. "It means a lot."

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. "Anytime, Minji. I'm glad we can spend time together like this."

Minji beamed. "Me too."

As they sat there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, Y/N realized that these moments, both on and off the court, were the ones he would cherish forever. It wasn't just about the game; it was about the people who made it meaningful. And Minji was at the heart of it all.

————————————————————

The championship game was the biggest event of the year. The gym was packed with students, teachers, and parents, all cheering for Ador High. The bleachers were a sea of orange and black, with banners and posters waving enthusiastically in the air. The scent of popcorn and excitement filled the space, creating an electric atmosphere.

Y/N was more focused than ever, but knowing Minji was in the crowd cheering for him made his heart pound. He glanced up and saw her, her smile a beacon of encouragement. He took a deep breath and joined his teammates in their final huddle.

"Alright, guys," the coach said, his voice steady and calm. "This is our moment. Play smart, play hard, and remember, we've got each other's backs."

The game began with a flurry of activity. The opposing team, Seoul High, were formidable, their defense tight and their offense relentless. Y/N dodged and weaved, his muscles straining with every pass, every pivot. The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished wood floor and the rhythmic pounding of the basketball echoed through the gym.

As the first quarter progressed, both teams fought fiercely for the lead. Y/N executed a perfect layup, drawing cheers from the crowd. But Seoul High quickly countered with a three-pointer, keeping the score neck and neck.

During a timeout, Y/N wiped the sweat from his brow and listened as the coach outlined their strategy. "Stay sharp, and keep the pressure on. Y/N, you'll be our key player in the final minutes. Trust your instincts."

Back on the court, Y/N felt the weight of the game on his shoulders. He knew the clock was ticking down, and the pressure was mounting. With only two minutes left, the score was tied. Ador High fought for every inch, their determination unwavering.

The game was intense. Ador High and Seoul High were evenly matched, each team responding to the other’s moves with agility and precision. The ball changed hands rapidly, with neither side able to secure a solid lead.

With a minute left in the fourth quarter, Ador High were down by two points. Y/N knew it was now or never. He stole the ball from an opposing player and sprinted down the court. The crowd's roar was deafening. He passed the ball to his teammate, who quickly passed it back to him.

Y/N was at the three-point line when he saw an opening. He darted past his defender and charged toward the basket. Seoul High' center, a towering player, tried to block him, but Y/N was faster. He jumped, the world around him slowing down. With all his might, he slammed the ball into the hoop.

The gym exploded with cheers. Ador High were now up by one point. The slam dunk had turned the tide of the game, and Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline and pride.

With only seconds left on the clock, Seoul High scrambled to regain control. But Ador High' defense was impenetrable. Y/N stole the ball again, blitzing his way to the opponent's side of the court. However, a defender was just right behind him, slowly catching up to lock him down. Entering the paint, Y/N immediately sprung into the air while gripping the ball with all his might. Everyone watched, as Y/N stayed in the air before slamming the ball right onto the hoop just as the final buzzer sounded.

Ador High had won the championship, thanks to Y/N’s back to back dunk. His teammates lifted him onto their shoulders, the victory a culmination of their hard work and dedication.

Amid the celebration, Y/N spotted Minji running towards him. Her face was radiant with pride, her eyes shining. She threw her arms around him, her joy palpable.

"You're amazing, Y/N! We won!" Minji exclaimed, her smile brighter than ever.

Y/N hugged her back, his heart full. "Thanks, Minji. I couldn't have done it without you."

Minji pulled back, looking confused. "Me? But all I did was cheer."

Y/N laughed, a sound of pure happiness. "And that made all the difference."

As the team celebrated their victory, Y/N knew this was a moment he would cherish forever. The roar of the crowd, the embrace of his friends and family, and Minji's unwavering support. This was more than a game; it was a testament to teamwork, perseverance, and the power of believing in oneself.

After the initial celebration, the team gathered in the locker room, their spirits high. The coach gave a rousing speech, praising everyone's effort and determination. Y/N's teammates clapped him on the back, congratulating him on his game-winning shot.

"Man, you were on fire out there!" one teammate exclaimed.

"Yeah, you really carried us in the final minutes," another added.

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie and pride.

As they changed out of their uniforms, Y/N couldn't help but think about Minji. He had to find the right moment to finally tell her how he felt. He glanced at his phone and saw a text from her:

Minji: Congrats, Y/N! You were incredible! 😊

Y/N replied: Thanks, Minji. Can we meet outside? I need to talk to you.

Minji: Sure! Be there in a sec.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. As he walked out of the locker room, he saw Minji waiting for him, her smile as bright as ever.

"Hey, Y/N! What's up?" she asked cheerfully.

Y/N's heart raced. "Minji, there's something important I need to tell you. I've been trying to say it for a while now, but things keep getting in the way."

Minji tilted her head, looking curious. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I—"

Just then, his teammate burst through the door, yelling, "Yo, Y/N! Coach wants you back inside for a team photo!"

Y/N groaned inwardly, feeling the frustration build up again. "Okay, I'll be right there." He turns and smiled at his teammate, biting the insides of his cheeks. His eyes squinted as he telepathically communicated with his teammate. ‘Boy you better thank the gods above we are living in a civilized society’.

The poor teammate, jolted as he awkwardly exits himself back to the team.

Minji giggled. "I'll wait here. Don't keep me waiting too long!"

Y/N nodded, feeling both exasperated and amused. One of these days, he'd get his chance.

After the game, Y/N and Minji found a quiet spot outside the gym. The moonlight cast a soft glow over them, and Y/N knew it was the perfect moment.

"Minji, I have something to tell you," Y/N said, his voice steady.

Minji looked at him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Minji, I like you. A lot. More than just a friend."

Minji's face lit up with realization. "Oh! You mean like more than my love for fried chicken?"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Minji. Much more than that."

Minji's face slowly lit up with realization. "Oh, I get it! You want to join the culinary club to learn how to make fried chicken, don't you?"

Y/N's jaw dropped. "W-What? No! That's not what I meant!"

Minji giggled, completely missing the point. "Oh, Y/N! You're so funny. But sure, I'll help you join the culinary club if that's what you want!"

Y/N sighed deeply, shaking his head but unable to stay mad at her. "Thanks, Minji. You're the best." Giving her a weakened thumbs up and smile.

As he walked home alone, he couldn't help but just laugh at the misunderstanding. Minji's innocence and humor were part of what he loved about her, even if it made things a bit more complicated. But he’s lying if the constant failures he’s facing aren't affecting him. 

“Let’s not give up yet, we still have plenty more chances!” He motivates himself, reassuring his feelings and his unwavering will. 

He proceeded to run the remaining kilometer on his way home.

In the following days, Y/N found himself in another series of dense moments with Minji that only added to his growing frustration and affection:

They were in the library, supposedly studying for their upcoming exams. Minji was intensely focused on her notes, her brows furrowed in concentration. Y/N, however, was distracted by her presence.

"Minji," he whispered, trying to be subtle.

"Hmm?" She looked up, her expression softening.

"I wanted to ask you something," he began, his heart racing.

"Sure, what is it?" she asked, leaning in closer.

"Do you ever think about..." he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his question.

"Think about what?" she prompted, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Um, about us, you know, being more than friends?" he finally managed to say.

Minji's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, you mean like study buddies? I'd love that! We can help each other with all our subjects!"

Y/N sighed inwardly, trying to keep his smile. "Yeah, study buddies. That's exactly what I meant."

A few days later, they were in the cafeteria, enjoying lunch together. Y/N decided to try again.

"Minji, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," he said, gathering his courage.

"What's that, Y/N?" she asked, looking up from her food.

"I really like you, Minji. I mean, I really like you," he said, hoping she would understand this time.

Minji's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, I like you too, Y/N! You're one of my best friends."

Y/N felt a pang of disappointment but managed to keep his composure. "Thanks, Minji. You're one of my best friends too."

————————————————————

After another failed attempt to confess his feelings, Y/N decided to make one last grand gesture. He arranged a surprise for Minji on the rooftop of their school, a place they both loved for its breathtaking view of the city.

Y/N decorated the rooftop with fairy lights, creating a magical ambiance under the night sky. He set up a picnic blanket, complete with all of Minji’s favorite snacks. He took a deep breath, hoping this time everything would go smoothly.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the city, Y/N led Minji to the rooftop, covering her eyes with his hands.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Minji giggled, clearly excited.

"Just trust me," Y/N said, guiding her carefully. "And... open your eyes!"

Minji gasped, her eyes wide with wonder. "Oh my gosh, Y/N! This is beautiful!"

Y/N smiled, feeling a bit more confident. "I wanted to do something special for you, Minji."

They sat down together, enjoying the view and the snacks. As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle, Y/N knew it was now or never.

"Minji," he began, his voice steady. "There's something I've been trying to tell you for a long time."

Minji looked at him, her eyes full of curiosity and warmth. "What is it, Y/N?"

Y/N took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Minji, I love you. I've loved you for so long, and I can't keep it to myself anymore. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I want to be more than just friends. I want to be with you."

Minji's eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling. "Oh, Y/N, I love you too! I can't believe it took us this long to say it out loud!"

Y/N felt a wave of relief and joy wash over him. "So, does this mean...?"

"Yes, Y/N," Minji said, leaning in closer. "It means we're more than friends now."

Y/N pulled her into a tight embrace, his heart soaring. "I'm so glad you feel the same way, Minji."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for. All the misunderstandings and dense moments had led them to this point, and it was worth every second.

The rooftop seemed to glow with a newfound warmth, and Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. He had finally confessed his feelings, and Minji had reciprocated. It was the start of a beautiful new chapter in their lives.

————————————————————

The next day at school, Y/N and Minji walked hand-in-hand, their friends teasing them playfully.

"Finally, you two figured it out!" one friend joked.

"Yeah, it only took a million failed attempts," another added with a laugh.

Minji giggled, squeezing Y/N's hand. "I guess I'm not the only one who's dense."

Y/N grinned, feeling happier than ever. "Nope, we're a perfect match."

Reaching the hallway, they suddenly bumped into the Culinary Club president.

"Hey, Y/N! Minji said you wanted to join the Culinary Club to learn how to make fried chicken?" the president asked, grinning.

Y/N's face turned bright red as Minji burst into laughter. "Oh, Y/N! You really should have seen your face!"

Y/N groaned, feeling both embarrassed and amused. "Minji, I swear, that was not what I meant!"

Minji squeezed his hand, her laughter infectious. "I know, Y/N. But hey, maybe we can still join and make some delicious fried chicken together!"

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, why not? As long as we're together."

As they walked to their next class, Minji suddenly stopped. "Oh no! I forgot to feed my goldfish again!"

Y/N laughed, shaking his head. "Don't worry, Minji. I'll help you with that too."

And so, their story continued, filled with basketball, laughter, love, and a whole lot of heart.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

I've given it some thought--

Now, if you've read any of my posts and you've read 430, you know there are a lot of ways it falls short of what I wanted. On the other hand, I can respect an open ending, one where we are allowed and encouraged to dream. All things considered, I'm not satisfied or disappointed, but a secret third thing... bear with me.

For a lot of storylines, I can fill in the blanks how I want.

I'm heartbroken over Himiko's fate, but there's no denying that the lack of camera footage leaves open the possibility of her simply disappearing. Perhaps she is waiting in hiding for the world to change, just like Lady Nagant.

Dr. Yoshida is described as someone who can cure the incurable. That may be referring to Katsuki, but the doctor himself said it's a complete mystery how he survived, all Katsuki's own doing. Maybe he cured someone else in those 8 years... someone like Touya?

Honestly I got nothing on Tenko but who knows. Who knows! Something something OFA connection. Izuku having vestige visions. Idk.

As for the manner in which society is changing, I'm drawn to Shouji's speech: "I'm dedicating the honor to those who joined the uprising eight years ago. All I've done is stand atop the resolve that they demonstrated to the world, nothing more." That at least tells me his earlier judgment of the other heteromorphs "setting them back" was a narrow point of view Shouji was supposed to grow out of, rather than a way of Horikoshi trying to criticize revolutionaries. In general, just because a character says something doesn't mean we're supposed to take it as gospel. That's lit crit 101, people.

Then there's Izuku. Once again I am feeling this pretty close to home. I keep coming back to the fact that the class is 24/25 now and I'm 25, man. On top of that, anyone else who was 14/15 ten years ago when the manga started gets to feel like we've all grown up together. I wanted catharsis for Izuku's trauma so badly. I wanted words. But I can't deny that the way Izuku is shown attempting to make the best of things and be content with a humbler life resonates with me, as painful as it is, as much as I know deep down he's kidding himself. It doesn't surprise me that he kept his walls up all this time and continued to shun his "selfishness."

I almost feel like there's an all-encompassing narrative theme being expressed here, in the fact that Izuku was trying to push past his pain and focus on the next generation, but surprise, his story's not over yet. I think the implied message there is that more can be done in the here and now, and maybe other stories that seem to be over, aren't.

With these things in mind, I can take the ending in stride, even if this is all the more we get from Horikoshi. However. There's one thing that is jolting me out of my peace every time I start to get comfortable here. It's actually related to the storyline that got the most closure.

I've seen a lot of fellow bkdk enjoyers calling their conclusion the best part of the ending, and I agree with that. They got a truly full circle moment, and a way of communicating to the reader that they're together, they have their forever, in a way that is personal to them. It's not "canon" in the way a kiss or a confession is, but I've said it before--this makes sense for them. And Horikoshi also did something legitimately interesting and groundbreaking by not making Ochako confess, not showing her future being tied to the main character as a love interest.

No, the thing that's bugging me is a seemingly small detail: why does Izuku and Katsuki holding hands at the end, of all things, have to be implied? Lots of things about 430 make sense in the context of the interview Horikoshi recently gave where he expressed being content with what he has drawn, and what he has left to the imagination. But not this. You can't convince me he didn't want to draw this. It's a motherfucking story about hands. This is the one thing I was 110% certain would happen. It's been teased for forever. Katsuki clearly wanted it so bad. So many other characters got to hold Izuku's hand in-frame. What the hell. Why.

Idk. I will be thinking about it for the foreseeable future.

[carolmunson]

is he rich like me? (wealthy!s.h. x thick!reader)

desc: hi, we've missed you here at slate insurance hq. i've been working on this WIP since i think october, having the initial idea back then and then going back and forth on it for a million years. anyway, i finally finished it. you and big money steve are finally both on the same page, so here's some porn with plot. big money steve is big money steve, and he loves to spoil his girl. especially before a big dinner deal closing with a new client. tw: 18+ minors dni. p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), some daddy kink (it's steve c'mon) but he's pathetic, some breeding kink. casual dominance. big wealthy tings. recommended listening: time of the season - the zombies

"what's your name? who's your daddy? is he rich like me?"

Big boxes and gifts were nothing new anymore. Selfishly, they'd become expected whenever you walked in the door from work. Though, if it were totally up to Steve, you would have quit your job the moment the last box of your things came past the threshold of his Tribeca apartment in January. But having at least some semblence of your old life was important to you -- and Robin would lose her mind if she didn't have you to share an office with anymore. Steve on the otherhand, was adamant that once the first baby was on the way, you'd put your career behind you. Presumptiuous of course, considering you weren't even engaged. Tonight was a dinner -- not for the both of you, but for business. Sales pitches, deal closings, re-enrollment. He'd never take you a steakhouse for a date, he'd rather die. But, always a steakhouse for business, 'It's just more -- I don't know how to explain it baby -- money talk, red meat, stuff like that. I know you hate it, I'm sorry, but it just looks good when I bring my girl with me.' He'd make it up to you every time with a new dress, a new pair of shoes, his lips on your neck, your knees to your chest. This dinner was no different, coming in from a nail appointment and a pedicure out to see an array of boxes laid out on your side of the bed. Your main component, which you were expected to wear to dinner tonight, was a black silk dress. "It looks small, Steve," you mumble, holding it up by the skinny straps. Sometimes your wonder if he forgets how full your hips are, how things that look chic on Kate Moss can sometimes look suggestive on you. Not that he minded, he was always very suggestive whenever you dressed up.

"It got it tailored to your measurements, so it shouldn't be," he explains while tying his tie in the mirror, "Just put it on, baby. The car's gonna be here soon."

You huff a little, turning on your heels to his walk in closet -- it might as well be a second bedroom with how big it was. You laid the dress down on the center island where he keeps all of his ties and watches in specially made drawers. You eyed the dress for a moment -- it really was beautiful. Black as night with a high slit on the right side -- of course he made sure it showed some leg so he could run his fingers along the hem under the table.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror in the long line black bustier he bought you. Breasts lifted and high, nearly spilling out of the cups. You'd never seen something without straps have so much support. But then again, you'd never had a bra be custom made either. The matching satin panties sat high on your waist, cut high enough that you'd never see the lines under the silk dress.

Moment of truth, I guess, you think, taking the dress and stepping into it. You waited for the resistance when you pulled it up over your hips but it never came. You waited for the uncomfortable pull of trying to get the skinny straps over your arms and shoulders, but it didn't happen. The dress slid on like butter, like it was made for you.

Oh yeah, duh, it was made for you.

"Can you help me with the zipper, honey?" you call out. Steve still loses his breath when you call him a pet name. So overwhelmed that you want him, that you call him baby and handsome and honey. Honey, honey, honey. Maybe someday husband. Maybe.

He steps into the room with purpose, stopping short when he sees you in the dress.

"Oh, wow," he gasps, "Wow, wow, wow."

"Stop," you bloom heat when he eyes you, "C'mon help me, we gotta go soon."

He steps behind you and you can smell the cedar and sandalwood in his cologne -- having long traded his Aqua di Gio for Creed's 1992 Bois du Portugal. His fingers are warm when he trails his middle and pointer up the skin of your back where the zipper opens, just to watch you shiver. He hooks the closure at the top carefully before pulling the tab at the bottom to slowly close the dress up. At the finish, everything is pulled into place. It was perfect. Dipping and flouncing exactly where you wanted it too, every curve perfectly showcased.

“Do you know where my clutch is?” you ask him in the mirror while his fingers trace your shoulders.

“It’s on the island in the kitchen,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss over the strap of the dress, “But I have another surprise for you.”

“Another?” you ask, eyes wide. He already bought you the dress, the shoes, the lingerie. What else was left?

"Close your eyes." You do, you hear him open one of the drawers and can feel him behind you when something cold hits your chest. He fastens it at the back of you -- you know it's a necklace but it must be nice if he's having you close your eyes.

"Keep 'em closed, baby."

You hear him come around to the front of you, adjusting the necklace, feeling his breath againt your ear. His fingers trail from your shoulder, down your arm to lift your left hand up, "Stay like that." Your heart hammers, but quickly fades out when you feel him put on a bracelet. His delicate touches quicken your pulse, his scent makes your mouth water. Steve had a way of making everything romantic -- getting coffee, going to the grocery store, taking out the trash, putting jewelry on you. Jewelry he bought. Jewelry you know you'll love.

"And lastly..." he continues, while putting your hand down. His nose brushes your cheek when his nimble fingers click a pair of earrings into place -- they're heavy and cold. "Harrington," you sigh, squirming at the pinch of the back going too far into your lobes, "I can put these on myself." "Don't be such a baby, Manhattan," he tsks, smoothing your hair away from your ears before standing back and looking at you. He smiles big at the sight, you simply adorned in his gifts. Steve doesn't know whether to cry or kiss you when he feels his heart leap in his chest. It happens all the time when he stares too long at you, no matter what you're doing. You're his. "Can I open them?" "You can open them," he encourages. When your eyes flutter open and adjust to the light, you see them in the mirror. A platinum set tennis necklace sat across your chest, a matching bracelet on your wrist. Earrings in your ears to complete the collection. You gape at your reflection, mouth hanging open while you try to wrap your head around it -- about how much money you're wearing right now.

"Steven -- they're beautiful..." you gasp out. He stands behind you in the mirror again, grinning at your reaction.

"Sorry there's no ring," he pouts before kissing your cheek, "Not yet, at least."

It was an every other day mention -- the ring. You'd only been officially together for half a year, but Steve knew what he wanted. It felt like you both had been together for six years anyway. You knew the ins and outs of each other, literally and figuratively -- there couldn't be anyone else quite like him. It helt like you both had PHDs in each other's likes and dislikes, needs and wants, goals and dreams.

"Don't worry," you breathe, still not over the sparkle on the rest of your limbs, "This is...this is plenty, babe." He burns in his cheeks -- babe. He's your babe! He presses a kiss to your cheek, settling by your ear to mumble a heady 'I love you,' from the deep base of his chest. His lower lip coasts your earlobe and your eyes roll back in your head, feeling his warm breath fan over your jaw. "I love you so much," he murmurs, hand gripping your waist, you can feel his grin against your skin, "But I need you to hurry the fuck up or we're gonna be late, angel." "You're so annoying," you glower when his sensual demeanor turns into a mean snicker, tapping your ass to get you to move out into the kitchen.

It took every ounce of will power in his body to not cover you in hickeys in the car. He had to give it to himself, he knew how to dress you for stuff like this, and God did your body alway deliver. He had to keep looking out the window so he didn't catch a glimpse of your crossed legs in the rear view mirror of the Bentley. It didn't help that you smelled like heaven, dirving him crazy with every movement, sending Mulger's Angel through his olfactory straight to his boy brain.

He helped you out of the car and waked you arm in arm to the door of the restaurant, always sure to be there at least 15 minutes before his guests. You got accustomed to the song and dance: exchange pleasantries, only ask the wife of whoever he's with direct questions, feign some form of old school obedience, let Steve do all the talking and so help you God if you roll your eyes once he has no problem letting you pay for when you get home. Always in good fun, of course.

Tonight is no different, you look over the menu, sharing sweet moments with each other before his guest arrives. Guessing the status of every couple there, what they're talking about, how long they've been together. A few celebrities come in laying low and you never get excited but Steve always does, still deep down a sweet boy from Indiana. "I think I'm gonna do the salmon," I say with a sigh, "I know that's boring."

"Not boring, honey," he shakes his head, taking off his glasses to clean them off before settling the silver frames back on, "The salmon's really good here." "You're really good here," you tease. "Yeah?" his brow quirks, a smile pulling at his lips, "I heard you're really good here." "Actually, you're really good here," you start to giggle. "Surprised to hear you say that because it was reported in the Culiniary section of the New York Times that you're actually really good here," he laughs, but you're both cut short when you see the m'aitre d guiding your guests to the table. You keep giggling, sitting up straight and crossing your legs under the table cloth so that your thigh peaked out of the slit of the dress. "No more fun, Harrington," you say faux seriously, "No laughing, we have to be boring now." "So boring," he agrees in a fake whisper, but his demeanor changes on a dime when his guest and his wife arrive. Steve stands immediately, hand out for a firm shake.

"Mr. Parker, good to see you tonight," he flashes an award winning smile, the kind that make older men wish he was their son and older women wish he was their husband, "Mrs. Parker, you look stunning. He let's you leave the house looking this good?"

Only Steve can make a joke like that and have it be charming. He pulls the fake string in your back and you start your performance as Business Dinner Barbie as soon as everyone sits down. When the sommelier arrives Steve orders a bottle of white and red for the table and when the waitress arrives he gets himself and Mr. Parker their second highest priced scotch. 'Just because it's the most expensive doesn't mean it's good, they just wanna get the suckers to buy it.' You could mouth the words as he says them at this point, the same schpiel every time.

"And would you like to put your entree orders in as well?" the waitress asks. Mr. Parker orders the steak dinner, rare, which doesn't surprise you because he sort of looks like someone who gets joy out of consuming blood. Mrs. Parker orders the salad because of course she does, she's never eaten a starch in her life, or at least not in the past forty years. Steve places his dinner order, always filet mignon medium rare with a side salad. Steve takes your menu from you to pass to the waitress when her attention turns to you for your order. You open your mouth to speak but Steve's hand finds yours with a light squeeze, keeping eye contact with the waitress. "She'll have the glazed salmon, medium. And I hate to bother the chef but can we pass the broccoli rabe on for asparagus?" he asks, eyes dropping from the waitress to yours as she answers 'Absolutely, Mr. Harrington'. You swallow when his gaze lingers on you, a smirk flicking on the ends of his lips, a moment only shared by the two of you.

"Thank you so much," he replies, still looking at you, "She just doesn't really care for it." He smiles back up at the waitress as he finishes his sentence, pulse quickening when he sees you adjust slightly in your seat. You liked that, and he likes that you liked that. He continues the conversation with a winning smile, pretending like he doesn't know you're melting next to him. Staring at him in his suit acting like you care what he's talking about, like you're not watching the way the leather band of his watch hugs his wrist, how he gesticulates when he talks, his long fingers and big veined hands emphasizing his words. The way his brow furrows when he listens, the slight tensing of his jaw while he thinks of what to say next. While Mr. Parker discusses the potential pitfalls of partnering with Slate Insurance, you feel one of Steve's big hands under the table, resting on your knee. His thumb traces circles on your joint for a minute, you figure it's a comfort touch, something to ground him while he considers his next move. You learn quickly that it's not that at all. He lets a finger trace slowly and softly up over your knee and half way up your inner thigh before grabbing it, slowly and intentionally massaging the fat there, slipping his fingers under the black silk. Your back straightens in your chair, trying to keep your cool while he continues -- soft grazes with his finger tips, back and forth, inching further up as he goes. You grab his hand tightly under the thick white table cloth, catching his lips curl at the edges while he speaks -- no one else would be wise to it. You curse him silently at his ability to always play it cool.

"Have some water, honey," he says sweetly, taking his hand from your grasp and pushing your glass toward you, "You're looking a little flushed." You swallow, your smile a little tight while you take a sip and he watches. A battle between the two of you that you know you've already lost. The cool water passes your lips and you're nearly reinvigorated to try your hand but he comes in with a final strike -- a death blow -- "Atta girl," Steve grins. You've never wanted to pull him out of a restaurant by his collar more than you do right now. Just like always, dinner is a success. Steve always closes the deal before the second scotch so that the cool down conversation can feel more friendly. 'You want the client to feel like they made a friend when they leave so that they trust you. That's business, angel.' He'd say. You say your goodbyes and tell Mrs. Parker you'd be happy to join her book club -- you're unsure how many book clubs you've 'joined' at this point, how many invites got 'lost in the mail'. "Very darling woman you've got there, Steven," Mr. Parker says as he and Steve shake hands, the final seal.

"Isn't she?" he asks, giving you a quick once over. Your blood rushes in your ears at his look, the rest of their conversation muffled by an infuriating need for him. As Mr. Parker and his wife leave, he cleans off his glasses while you both wait for his credit card back for the bill.

"Beautiful job tonight, honey," he smiles, putting his frames back on.

"Do not speak to me," you say with a smile, heat pooling through you while a soft pink appears on his cheeks. "Don't worry," he shakes his head, getting his card back and signing off on the receipt. He helps you out of your chair like a gentlemen, passing you your purse as a means to press a kiss to your cheek, "We won't be doing any talking when we get home."

By the time you get home to the Tribeca apartment, all of your lipstick has been worn off. You're lucky if Vinny doesn't quit being Steve's driver after all of that. "Sorry," he says to Vin while you get out of the Bentley, "Won't happen again, I'm so sorry."

You try not to count how many hundreds Steve flips through when he goes into his wallet, you try not to see how many he slips his driver in embarrassment. Sometimes it still made your chest tight. "You say that every Friday night," Vinny laughs, taking the money, "And every Saturday I gotta get the interior detailed. Goodnight, Mr. Harrington."

The air is a little humid when you get out of the car, sticking to your skin slightly -- the soft rush of the river calms you in the quiet of the night, and there he is, in the glow of the lights outside of your building. He doesn't say anything when he approaches you, just pulls you in for another air stealing kiss. Steve's big hand pushing you in at the nape of your neck to give him better access to you. You frown when he breaks away, a small one, a gentle tug on your eye brows an lips. His hand drops to yours, taking you inside, greeting the doorman and front desk concierge by name as he does every morning and night.

The brightness of the lobby is a harsh contrast to the low light outside and the burst of air conditioning makes your nipples peak in your bra. Goosebumps trail up your arms, but you aren't sure if it's the blast of cold air or the way Steve impatiently waits for the elevator to get you both upstairs. The door barely closes when he's on you, shoving you against the wall of the front walk way. "How dare you," he murmurs, lips peppering kisses from your lips to your jaw, tongue licking hot at your neck, "Look this fucking good all night." "It's kind of your fault," you laugh, panting slightly while his teeth graze over a sensitive spot by your collar bone. You kick off your heels, leaving $2600 on the floor of Steve's apartment.

"Mostly yours," he grunts, pulling you over to the living room after taking off his own shoes. He opens the big vertical blinds so that the city glitters into the penthouse apartment. Steve wastes no time however, getting behind you the same way he did earlier, fingers nimbling unzipping your dress. You both watch it fall to the floor in a delicate puddle, black water silk at your feet.

Now there was $6600 on the floor. Steve takes a second to admire you in your skivvies, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth. He surveys you like a work of art, like a statue carved just for him. You shudder while he circles you, feeling the heat of his ambers eyes burning with need on your skin. He chuckles when he notices you get a flustered, settling down on the couch. He motions for you to you come forward and while you are never one to listen, you make your way over to him without question.

"You like when I spoil you?" he asks huskily, pulling you down to straddle his lap. One arm wraps tight around your waist while the other wraps delicately in your hair. Your stomach presses against him while your breasts heave in his face. He pulls your head down to kiss you, hungry and powerful, while his hips press up to grind against your satin covered cunt.

"Mhm," you whimper into his mouth. His hands reach behind you to the hooks and ties at the back of your bustier. Steve's fingers never met a bra that they couldn't take off in an impressive flick of the wrist.

"Let's get all this off you," he mumbles breathily before sliding his lips from your mouth to your neck. The bustier falls forward slightly before he gets impatient, pulling the straps down your arms before discarding it on the ground. You reach for the necklace but he stops you, reaching back up to capture you in a hungry kiss. "Keep the jewelry on," he says, ambers eyes meeting yours. He's stern in his request and you nod obediently, hands lowering down to meet his chest.

Now there was $8,000 on the floor.

His hands find your breasts and he lets out a rugged groan, massaging them with his hands while he presses kisses down onto the soft skin.

"You can't come with me to dinner looking like this anymore," he murmurs between kisses, "Barely closed that deal. Too busy staring at these tits."

"Steve," you gasp out, giggling, "You closed it just fine."

"Mmm," he nods, mouth occupied by taking a nipple between his lips. You can feel the flutter of his tongue over it while he looks up at you, eye shining wickedly. Your whine just encourages him to keep going. Your hips press down against him, reminding him what you want more than his mouth, than his hands. He pops his lips off of you, the sound echoing in the open living room.

“Is there something you want?” he asks sweetly, leaning back on cushions of the couch. You nod, rocking your hips over his hard cock in his pants, letting out a soft tiny moan at each bit of friction.

“You're so spoiled angel,” he teases, thumbs brushing over your nipples before rolling them between his fingers, making you whine. His voice still dripping in depth and heat, “I think you should work for it.”

“I thought the whole point of this was so that I didn't have to work anymore," you tease back, leaning forward to kiss him. He hums into your mouth and you can feel him smirk into the kiss. Bastard, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” he considers, palm skating over your thigh, “You do make a good counter point."

“I think giving into my demands is a good return on investment,” you assure, hips rolling against him in a way that makes his thighs tense up, "Imagine the long term benefits?"

He groans when you parrot him, getting harder at the thought of you genuinely listening to his business speak when you do these dinners. He squeezes the fat of your hips, tongue gliding over his kiss bitten lower lip while you take off his tie and start to unbutton his shirt. “Take these off,” he says, looking up at you while his finger traces your panty line. You heat up when he says it, a smug smile blooming on your face. His actions only confirming that he’ll always give in, “If you ask for want you want, I'll consider it."

“Oh, you'll pass that on to your team? I'd love to be considered,” you ask with a laugh, but he's done joking around, a tap to your thigh reminds you that he asked you to undress. You stand up off of him, your feet meeting the cold hardwood, your panties sliding down your smooth legs.

Now there was $8250 on the floor.

He undoes his belt while you stand in front of him, eyes glued to yours while he does it. You swallow when he winks, thighs pressing together — you know he notices. Steve shimmies his pants down slightly, enough that he can keep his legs spread wide while pulling out his length. It's clear that he's painfully hard, a guttural groan escaping him while his hand offers him some minor relief, “Is this what you want?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t you suck on it first and I’ll tell you when you can ride it," he smirks, and without thinking, you start getting to your knees. He stops you before you can make it to the floor, putting a throw pillow beneath you to protect you from the hardwood. Steve can't help but kiss you softly once you make it to your knees, he was never any good at being mean and forceful with you. You'd been right the whole time, he couldn't boss you around -- at least not for too long.

You unbutton the rest of his dress shirt that will now need to be dry cleaned and repressed. You let a hand trail down his chest, gliding through the hair there while pressing wet hot kisses down to his pelvis. Pulling some of the skin between your teeth to leave red and purple bruises behind.

“That’s it, baby,” his breath blends with his words as he adjusts on the couch, leaning back so you have more access to him. You kiss close to the base, tongue trailing over the crease of his thigh, breath ghosting over his shaft while your mouth stays occupied with his heavy sac. You feel him lean back, relaxing while you work him up, his hands coming behind his head, arms bending at the elbows. "Just like that, honey," Steve purrs, "Just like that."

Your hand reaches up to stroke him, slow and deliberate, mouth getting wetter while you leave sloppy kisses at the base and on his pelvis. Your thumb glides over the shining bead of pre-cum pooling out of the tip, teasing over the seam just under it. Your tongue finally glides up to the tip expertly, letting your lower lip catch on the head -- his eyes meet yours behind his glasses, burning with need. It feels cruel to keep him waiting when he looks at you like that, so you don't wait. While keeping eye contact you adjust, taking him all the way to the back of your throat without so much as a wince.

“Oh fuck, good girl,” he gasps into a growl, hand reactively entwining in your hair, “That’s daddy’s girl.”

You groan into the praise, sucking diligently on his cock, thighs pressing tight together. Your back arches into a posture he can only recognize as needy, making him grin while he runs his free hand through his own hair.

“Learned to like that, huh? Whose your daddy, angel?” You smirk up at him in response, tongue gliding from the base to the tip again, taking half of his shaft in your mouth before taking it out with a low laugh, "You are, honey."

His eyes roll back, hips canting up towards your mouth while his grip in your hair tightens. You press him by the thighs back down onto the couch eyeing him while he whimpers when your tongue traces the curve of his cock again. Always on top even on your knees. "Fuck, don't stop," he breathes out. He lets go of your hair, arm reaching behind him to clutch the back of the couch. His hips roll up again, disrupting your rhythm slightly. You taste the salt of him on your tongue while you continue, a soft giggle erupting from your throat, sending shockwaves through him.

"Having fun, honey?" he asks, pulling himself away from you slightly. You sit back on your heels and smile, nodding. He leans forward, blessing you with kisses, deep and slow, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"I'm on top, right?" you ask. He smirks, watching the jewelry glitter on you in the low light. "Not a chance," he giggles darkly, "Not tonight. Really wanna show you how bad I want you tonight."

"Oh, just tonight?" you ask smartly, getting up from your knees to head to the bedroom.

"Every night," he says with a roll of the eyes, getting up and tossing his dress shirt and tie on the couch. He watches you as you walk slowly to the bedroom, eyeing your smooth skin, the way your hips and waist twist when you walk. He knows you're walking like this on purpose, but he'll never complain. You fall back on the sheets you've been sleeping in for six months and he watches your breasts and thighs and tummy jiggle when you land. Steve grins, sliding off his slacks, socks, and boxer briefs before stepping between your legs, standing over you while you lay on the bed. "Hi," you say, a genuine smile pulling at your mouth when you look up at him. A stripe of amber light from outside pools into the room from between the billowing white curtains, coating you both in a dreamy haze.

"Hi, baby," he says back, his hands reaching down to slide from just under your breasts to your waist, "So beautiful," he whispers to himself.

"Move up a little for me," he instructs, his voice sweet and deep. You scooch up the bed, settling between the mountain of pillows leaning against the short head board while he settles between your legs again. He watches you and the way your body manipulates when he reaches down behind your thighs, pressing the tops of them to your chest. He leans forward, pressing his own chest against what can be felt of yours. Your knees are at your decolletage when he leans in closer to give you another deep kiss before leaning back again, quickly tossing his glasses on the bedside table.

You both stay quiet while he strokes himself a few times, smirking down at your glistening core while he lines himself up to push in. You aren't sure why, but every time he does, it feels like the first time.

"Oh my God," you whine while he pushes in slow, "Stevie." "I know, angel," he nods, gliding in all the way to the hilt. He grunts when he feels you grip him tight, trying to pull out slightly only to get sucked back in. He grips the back of your thighs for leverage, pulling back half way and pressing in, feeling you get wetter around him while he picks up a rhythm.

"Shiii-Steve, that's so deep," you whine. It only encourages him to push in deeper.

"Gotta practice, honey," he grins, starting to pant while he looms over you, letting go of your legs to get close to you again, "Need it to stick when we do it for real."

You pulse over him when he says it, back trying to arch despite your position beneath him.

"You like when I talk like that?" he whispers, his voice sliding back to gravely in your ear, "When I tell you how bad I wanna cum inside you?"

"Mhm," you whimper, nodding against his searing kiss, working himself up the more he thinks about it. "Get you all fuckin' full with me?" he growls, "Keep you nice and pregnant the second I get that ring on your finger?" You burn with lust while he babbles on, wrapping your legs around his waist while his thrusts get rough and desperate. Your body shakes and quivers while his hips slam against you, filthy wet squelches filling the high ceilings of the room. Mixing with a symphony of both of your sighs and moans, the smell of your sweat mixing with his cologne. Slam, slam, slam, slam, slam. The headboard beating the wall between the windows with a thud over and over again. "I fucking love you," he grits out. "I love you, too," you whine, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Heat licks at your lower belly, building while the slight curve of his cock makes the head brush over your g-spot in rapid succession, "Baby, I'm..." "Yeah?" he asks with a knowing smile, "So close for me, hm?" He sits back on his calves, still able to thrust while he looks down at you. His thumb presses against your lips, asking for entry. You let him in, making sure to get it extra slick with your spit before he takes it out, reaching down to slide it in circles over your clit. "How's that, angel?" he asks, thrusts not showing a hint of slowing down, "Does that feel good?"

Your thighs shake, eyes pricking with tears, shining while they look up at him. Well he's pleased with himself, you think, making a mental note to throw him on his back tomorrow and ride him into next week until he's a babbling mess. "It does, huh?" he asks softly, nodding down at you while you nod up at him. "Shit," he huffs, "Oh fuck."

"Not so...oh my god, oh wow -- not so t-tough now, are you?" you giggle. He groans when you giggle, Why are you so fucking precious? he thinks to himself, Who allowed this?

Heat rises even more, the jewelry starting to feel clingy as it sticks to your shining skin. Steve keeps his pace, eyes closing softly while he leans his head back, the column of his neck begging to be bitten and kissed by you. You whimper, pulling at the clasp of the bracelet, tossing it onto the carpet next to the bed. Now there was $48,250 on the floor. Feeling less trapped and more desperate to destroy his neck and chest, you sit up, your manicured hand pressing against his hair covered pecs. It doesn't take long for him to allow it, looking up at you while you climb on top of him.

"That's it, honey, give it to me," he breathes, "Show me how bad you want it."

Your hips move with a slutty percision that he loves, grinding against him for your own pleasure and his. He hisses when you bite down on his neck, letting out a soft laugh when you pull at his hair, "Come for me, angel, c'mon." He hears you pant in his ear while you lean over him, the diamonds in your necklace shimmering in his eyes. You sigh, sitting up straight, unclasping the necklace while you bounce on top of him, gently tossing it to meet the bracelet. Now there was $198,250 on the floor. "Do not," he groans out, hands grabbing your hips with bruising grip, "Put those earrings on the ground, we will never find them until a post ends up in my fucking heel." You laugh, your own head leaning back, making him yearn to taste the column of your neck this time. But your laugh doesn't last long, it morphs into guttural moans while he holds you in place, thrusting up into you in an unforgiving speed. Steve gasps, watching your breasts bounce in front of him while he continues on unrelenting. "Baby..." You squeak out, "Steve...oh fuck, oh Steve -- Steve, Steve, Steve..." The heat builds and builds and builds. Your eyes water while his cock bullies into you. The head hitting your g-spot, pushing in deeper while he goes. You let out a cry, nails digging into his broad freckles shoulders while our hips slam down on him, thighs vibrating while white blooms behind your eyes.

"Good girl," He coos while you shake, collapsing onto his chest, "That's it, angel, that's my girl." He eases you onto your back again, giving you slow kisses on your neck and chest while he chases his own orgasm. It doesn't take long, nearly on the precipice of cumming since he zipped you up in your dress earlier in the evening. His mouth gapes while he sends his seed over your tummy, painting you with ropes of glistening white. "Jesus Christ..." he gasps, settling himself with some big deep breaths that expand his sculpted chest. You both look at each other, panting and sweating, the passion wearing off to a pure and gentle love for each other. You both start laughing. "We swear we're sexy," you laugh up at him. His smile makes you melt all over again. You watch him ease up off the bed, leaning forward from the side to kiss your forehead. He picks up the jewelry, inspecting it for missing gems, or - god forbid - a scratch, and places it carefully on the side table with his glasses. "Wanna get cleaned up with me?" he asks, tilting his head, "Can you stand?" "Oh please," you roll your eyes, sitting up slowly, "I can..sort of stand." You already feel the ache between your legs from taking him, knowing you'll need at least a day to recover from something so big. He helps you up, taking you into the en suite bathroom and getting the water just right for you to step into. "I'll be right back," he says, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple before he disappears in the steam. When he returns behind the glass of the standing shower, covered top to bottom in dark green tile, he passes you a glass of Malbec that matches his. "A little celebratory night cap," he says sweetly. "To closing the deal," you grin, giving his glass a clink to cheers. "To closing the deal," he says back before you both take a sip.

"I know you're not wearing those earings in the shower, Manhattan," he sighs, putting the glass on the product shelf out of the water. He reaches for you ears but you yelp playfully, stepping away from him, "You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me, honey. I swear."

[moonsaver]

A dance, A death, A dream,

for humanity slumbers for the final rest, and dreams after the final rest.

➸ On the neverending stage of Penacony; there lies a mysterious masquerade that serenades those whose dreams stretch further than the expanse of the night sky. In this masquerade, the marble floor extends infinitely, and the windows are dimly lit by the full moon. Several hands extend to you. Whose do you take?

➸A/n; NOT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER AS TITLE SUGGESTS. my writing's gotten a bit rusty, and this is majorly inspired by the Acheron and Black swan dance. Please read it with a grain of salt. 2.2k words. Yandere themes, gn reader but they're implied to wear heels, so just yassify your self insert. Bad writing because I've been out of it for so long.

—————

A death

Scars, calluses, and a plethora of secrets remain buried on and under the skin of Blade's hand. He gently and firmly guides you out of your seat, and into the centre. The grip of his hand is firm on your waist, and the warmth seeps into your skin.

“I've seen you, many, many times..”

He whispers into your ear, as the music begins. The rasp of it sends chills down your spine, forming a few goosebumps along the way.

“We've scarcely met.” You reply,

“In my dreams.”

You stay silent. He continues,

“The long thread of destiny lingered around you. Our souls were tied.”

He turns you, and pulls you in again, your back pressed to his front. He leans down in an instant and whispers into your ear again,

“You waited for me.”

The clicks of your heels coincide with his agile footwork.

Blade remembers the same dream, played over and over in his mind. The bite on your jugular, the hand over your nape, the red blood staining his teeth like wine.

“You didn't leave.”

Your heart picks up. You close your eyes for a momentary relief that never comes. You feel your body tense, and your lungs slightly constrict.

“I.. didn't mean to.”

His grip only further tightens on you, and he pulls you in closer. The spinning almost leaves you dizzy, or perhaps it's something else?

“You left. Intentions seldom matter.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

He stays quiet. His hands make gentle work, and gracefully guide you through the steps.

“those threads.. all came together and formed a tapestry of us.”

There were a multitude of them, although more monotone in nature. White occasionally graced the vibrant red thread, but was sooner stained with a murky black the further it went, infecting the red with its impurity. The vibrancy dimmed to a dull, dreary maroon.

“Some of them..”, he continues, his rough fingers snake around your wrist, bringing it up to his lips, where he tenderly kisses the inside, “..were tied around your wrist.”

“Around your waist..”

You turn again, your back presses into his chest momentarily,

“Braided into your hair,”

He pulls you in, leaning close into your face, to the point your noses almost touch,

“..wrapped around your throat.”

To you – it's like the dance halts for a moment. Something wrong happens.

His tone is warning, bubbling over the edge,

“You were mine.”

He turns you again, and roughly pulls you in, knocking your breath out of your lungs. Your shocked eyes meet his.

“You are mine.”

Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears. Blade pushes you around, almost mocking the gentleness and grace the dance is supposed to exude, stripping it of it's vulnerability like the harsh snap of a bear trap over the tender leg of a rabbit,

“I've pined, longed and stained you. I've ripped you apart and put you back together. Do you think it matters whether you left intentionally?”

Your lungs struggle to fill completely, you almost stumble from the harsh and swift movements Blade forces you through, and you stutter trying to get any word out, 

“Yingxi–! Wait!”

He pulls you in one last time, your face buried into his chest,

“You can not leave. Not anymore.”

The music halts to a break.

The dance stops.

His breath fans over your neck, the constricted space between you two rebounding the warm air. His teeth graze your jugular.

“Our flesh is tied. Struggle all you want, but we are intertwined further than dried blood over a wound.”

And this is how it is meant to be. Your hand on his weakness. His mouth on your heart.

The music starts again.

—––––––

A dream

Sunday's familiar gloved hand wastes no time wrapping around yours. He flashes you a smile as you give him a look.

“There are far too many spectators present tonight.”

You sigh, and smile.

“Of course. I'll do my best.”

“Thank you. As will I.”

His hand settles on your back, settling into the slight curve, and you straighten up, muscle memory kicking into action.

“Tonight's crowd mumbles and scatters to mystery as a moth akin to a flame. Dreams are not enough to quench their curiosity.”

The dance starts, and you relax after the first few steps, synchronising effortlessly with him,

“However, tonight's realm extends far beyond a dream.”

This was new.

Sunday always answered your questions about Dreams in a shapeless, vague manner. He often said it was to protect you.

This time, it was a warning.

“How so?” You ask. You don't expect him to go beyond surface level.

“Prime System Hours are during Midnight. A beautiful time.” He gently turns you, and brings you in,

“And why is that?”

“At this time, dreams become heavy. The memoria is dense enough to tear the thin membrane between reality and illusions.”

His wings slightly flutter. You feel almost hypnotized.

“The Dream realm and parts of The Reverie merge and collide. It bizarrely stabilises the lavish, shared dreams.”

You blink at him, slightly confused.

“And at this time, it is also easy to awaken from one's dreams, or sleep too deeply.”

You suck in a breath. A vision flashes into your mind.

Sunday stands across the empty ballroom. The candles are blown out. The windows creak with the gentle air of the night. The deathly pale light of the moon illuminates the side of Sunday's face.

Wake up? Sleep? Dream?

You breathe out, almost as if your soul had been snatched out of your body and harshly shoved back in. 

“Guests confuse their dreams and reality. They believe it's time to awaken, when reality seems pleasant, and dreams become bitter. Memories and presence blur together in an incoherent puzzle.”

He swerves you effortlessly, muscle memory keeping you from stumbling. But this time, your mind feels hazy.

“By the time they feel their consciousness return, they've already deeply penetrated into the dream realm.”

You blink again, and you're back at the same place. Except, this time, Sunday is closer. He takes your hand, and pulls you in. The emptiness of the ballroom is almost frightening, especially due to your confused and hazed state,

“As to whether they've woken up or not, relies solely on their ability to distinguish Reverie and the Dreamscape, which blurs more with the effect of the memoria.”

His voice echoes in your head with clarity, but your eyes blur the two figures, the contrast inducing dizziness in you to the point where you're afraid you might even fall,

“As for you..” He continues, golden eyes gently grazing over your confused and hazy expression, a smile stretching out onto his eerily perfect face,

“It's not time to decipher that yet.”

The silhouette of Sunday's fingers snap over the pale backdrop of the moon.

You open your eyes.

Sunday is standing before you with a warm smile. The candelabras are still burning. The crowd applauds you two. You breathe heavily, unsure of what has happened, your body suddenly zapped of energy, exhaustion straining your muscles.

“You seem to have overexerted yourself.”

Sunday's gloved hand trails up your back to your shoulder, guiding you gently back into the crowd, towards an empty table.

“Come now. The dust of this ballroom may be dulling your senses.”

Dust?

You blink for a moment, head slightly hanging as you collect yourself.

Sunday breathes out an ‘o’, and then chuckles softly.

“Do not mind it, dear”,

Sunday eyes the creaking windows. It has been a while since they were repaired. The room may need to be renovated. The dust on the floor is reminiscent of all the people that one witnessed your first dance with Sunday. The lack of it was always a reminder of your time with Sunday, the dust clinging to your heels instead. He stares towards the empty hall, where you dream of an everlasting dance.

“It is my mistake. I was thinking about something else.”

–––––———

A dance

“What makes you think I'd really want to dance with you?”

You ask, almost disgruntled. Rightfully so, too. The blonde man had been continuously pestering you throughout the night, asking you to accompany him. For a dance, a walk through the garden, a visit to the food table. Finally, he'd asked you to strike a bet with him, if it meant you'd at least spend an iota of your time with him and solely him.

“I have my ways, you know?”

His agile fingers flick and swerve a coin between his hands, tossing and turning it skillfully. The tablecloth slightly crinkles under the movement of his arms,

“I'm not betting, by the way.”

You say, pausing for a moment to confirm if he's listening. His eyes are intent on yours. You continue,

“If you have to go so far just to dance with someone, aren't you better off just giving up?”

Your gaze lands on the coin for a moment, and you continue watching it with interest. At some point, you force yourself to look away from the coin he was toying with, and take a sip of your drink. You lean back into your chair.

“Like I said, I have my ways. What I really want from you after all this time.. isn't it tempting? Don't you want to know?”

He tosses the coin into the palm of his other hand, and encloses it, before opening it. The coin vanishes when he opens his hand. Mirroring you, he leans back into his seat, although his body language is much more open than yours.

“making bets is easy, isn't it? But it's more trustworthy than pulling a few strings behind your back, right?”

He gets up, and languidly walks over to you. He leans down slightly, his sunglasses slightly skewing enough so that his vibrant Signoian eyes bore deep into yours.

“And for you.. I've thought about an offer that's taken me a while to cultivate. Join me for a chat on the Balcony?”

You think for a moment, and hesitantly ask,

“..Why not talk here?”

Aventurine only casts a side-glance somewhere in the distance.

“Prying eyes, sweetheart.”

He extends an open hand to you. You slowly place yours in it, with a self-assuring sigh.

-

“Penacony's relationship with the IPC has been quite bitter. Even our reception wasn't ready to welcome us.”

The air of the night sky was cold, forming subtle goosebumps on your skin. Various clinks and muffled conversations could be heard from behind you, the glass door blurring the view of everyone inside. 

“Not even my friends were allowed to enter the dreamscape except me. How lucky, right?”

He says, sarcastically. His eyes continuously gauge your face for any expression and hint as to what you feel.

“You’re a little too quiet.. am I not interesting enough for you?” 

You stay silent for a bit too long. Aventurine knows what you're going to say next.

“Listen, that night..” you start, your voice gradually softening at the remembrance of the memory,

“Don't.” He cuts you off.

Neither of you speak. You open your mouth to, but close it after being unable to decide on what to say.

“I mean, you don't have to remind me.” His languid tone returns, but you don't believe it was the same as before.

“I know everything ended that night.. I didn't think you were so averse to blood.”

You stare at the bubbles in your drink, rise slowly from the bottom of your cup to the surface, and pop. You don't know when, but the background of joyful conversation and ballroom music fades into distant screams, ones that have haunted your dreams ever since then. Aventurine continues,

“It won't hurt to.. act one last time like it used to be, right? Just for one night. It's a masquerade, and everyone hides who they are for a moment's time of detachment. Their past, their decisions, their mistakes. All of it is buried for a single night.”

You hear the shuffle of his stiff jacket as he moves closer to you, hesitantly moving your gaze to him as you steel yourself.

“Just one last time. For old time's sake. As lovers from the past.”

His hand extends out to you. His other hand is behind his back, his grip tightening over a coin.

Heads, or tails?

You take his hand with a sigh,

“Just once. Never again.”

Aventurine smiles. Luck has always been on his side. If it works well, then your expectations will never be honoured. His greed is fatally more important to him than your wishes. It won't be the last time, as far as he's concerned.

The coin shines under his palm, the moonlight creeping through the gaps between his fingers hitting the metal just right, but neither of you catch the glint. Your eyes are trained onto the main floor, and his are trained onto you. The coin decides both of your fates.

And Luck has always been happy to write it in his favour.

—————————

[pikahlua]

Wait pika do you really mean don't ask you about predictions? Some of my favourite Tumblr posts of all time are your thoughts, theories and predictions! :((

Please sleep also, but when you can let us know what's going on in that head of yours. I'm desperate for someone with a brain cell to discuss this chapter! (Twitter is a cesspit)

I mean, you can ask lol. I just sometimes get these vague "any predictions?" asks and it's like, YES. YES I HAVE SOME. BUT IT'S FAR TOO MANY TO JUST LIST LIKE THAT, CAN YOU PLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC?

Okay, I'll tell you about my thoughts.

This is a new frame of the scene in chapter 1. This perspective doesn't exist as a drawing in chapter 1, but we know pretty easily what this scene was about. Why is Horikoshi putting the scene here though? Why does this scene have the line "Let go of One For All"? Why not draw Kudou saying it, or Izuku's reaction to it? Is it because this is a memory of the scene where Izuku receives OFA, so giving OFA up is coming around full circle to this moment again?

I don't think so.

This is not the moment where All Might proclaims "you are worthy of inheriting my power" and Izuku looks up in shock. This is the moment where All Might says the words Izuku has longed to hear his whole life: "You can become a hero."

We're coming back to this moment now because the emphasis is on Izuku's upcoming choice. This is about the MEANING Izuku places in OFA. All Might told Izuku "you can't become a hero without a quirk," then shows up to tell Izuku he can become a hero...by giving him his quirk.

To Izuku, letting go of One For All is sacrificing his greatest dream. He believes by giving up One For All, he can no longer be a hero. Even though there have been moments where All Might let on that the reason Izuku deserves to have OFA is because he's already a hero, Izuku never seems to internalize that answer. He thinks his heroism is tied to being the bearer of One For All.

No one has ever told Izuku he can be a hero without a quirk.

I said before I had a big guess about why Katsuki's memory was wiped at the end of Heroes Rising. Notably, he is allowed to remember most of what happens. His memory cuts off from the moment Izuku passed One For All onto him. Do you remember what Katsuki said after he got OFA?

"This is the end of your dream then, too, huh?"

That's the last thing he ever says on the matter. Sure, it's the moment where Izuku answers with "It's okay if it's you" and all that, but Katsuki never responds to that. We don't know what he's thinking about this moment.

The only clue we have is the fact that he accepted the quirk from Izuku, and how he reacted to that. He seems quite upset by the prospect, but in the end he relents and accepts OFA willingly.

Perhaps the issue he is grappling with in his heart in these moments is not the fact that he has to inherit OFA but that Izuku has to lose it. Which means...the reason he loses his memory is because his reaction is important. It's a moment we will have in the manga, which makes it a spoiler.

We've never heard Katsuki tell Izuku what he thinks of quirklessness now. All he's ever told Izuku is that way back when, he thought it meant Izuku was supposed to be beneath him. He doesn't even tell Izuku why he felt like somehow Izuku was actually above him.

He's also only ever told Izuku his actions were correct ever since he received One For All, nothing about before.

I think Katsuki's reaction to Izuku losing OFA--which could come before the final battle or after--will have to be about his feelings regarding Izuku's quirklessness. I think Izuku is going to be incredibly hurt by losing One For All because he'll think he has lost his dream, and Katsuki is going to have to set him right, because only Katsuki knew who Izuku was before he had One For All. All Might is the only other person who had at best a glimpse of Izuku.

I think Katsuki has been coming to terms with just how special Izuku is, how heroic he always has been, and that he's the only one capable of acknowledging it in a way Izuku will be able to hear because he knew Izuku before he got One For All. I think he's been grappling with this possibility ever since DvK2.

And I think he grapples with it again in Katsuki Bakugou: Rising.

In the same way Izuku saw something great in Katsuki that he wanted to cling to so he could see what Katsuki would one day become, Katsuki has always seen something great in Izuku, which awed and scared him. Their greatest divide was in not knowing what greatness the other saw in them. Katsuki has to tell Izuku what Izuku is to him.

Katsuki has to tell Izuku the words he's always wanted to hear, that he can be a hero, quirk or no, that Izuku always has been a hero, more than anybody else. Katsuki knows the truth of it firsthand.

[thehouseofurmotha]

Can you write Toga x rookie Frm!hero she convinces to join the LOV

Of course! I hope you enjoy :) Reader is freshly 18 in this story :))

Pairing: Toga x Fem!Hero reader,

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence and absusive child hoods

Summery: After being forced to by a hero by the commission, you meet a girl that changed something in you.

You had freshly been a hero for two weeks. You would say it's been the worst two weeks of your life, but that wouldn't be the truth. Because every week of your life since you were five has been absolute hell.

You were gifted with an extremely strong ice quirk, one the commission thought would be perfect for a hero. They came to you and your family, promising whatever they would need or ever want if they simply gave you up and cut all ties.

Growing up in a poor family that had been struggling with 6 other children. They didn't even think twice before accepting the offer.

You had been excited, at the idea of being a hero. To be able to save people everyday like the ones you see on tv. Until you learned the truth of what your life would be like from now on.

They practically tortured you, forcing you to strengthen your quirk into the greatest weapon it could be. Because that's all you were to them, a weapon.

You didn't want to live like this, you wanted to have a family, to have a life. To have a name. The commission had stripped you of your identity and turned you into Glacier, the hero that was too cold for her own good.

You weren't the sweet smiley hero that everyone had expected you to be after you made your Debut. You were cold to everyone and angry at the world. But nonetheless you quickly started gaining popularity due to your strong power, and ability to quickly take down buildings.

The world saw you as this hero, but to yourself you were nothing but a government approved killer. The commission didn't care about saving people, no they just force you to kill the ones who do wrong. You wish people knew, what went on behind the scenes. You wish the public hated you, because you deserved it. You were a puppet and the commission was pulling the strings.

You continue on your patrol, walking through allies waiting to see something that you need to stop. You hear footsteps behind you, quickly turning around to be met with a girl who seems to be around the same age as you.

She smiles, one thy could scare most people. But not you, not with the things you've seen. "Aren't you a cutie! I could just eat you up!!" She has such a happy voice, but you can see the knife in her hand. So you know that chances are this encounter isn't going to go well.

It clicks, in your mind who she is. Himiko Toga, a member of the league of villains. "You're Toga aren't you?" You doubt that she'd confirm it, but it was worth a try you thought.

"Mhm! And you're the new hero Glacier! I couldn't find what your actual name is though.. Anyways! I was sent by Mr boss man to come find you!" The last part of her sentence throws you off. The leader of the league sent her to come find you. Which in your mind could only mean one thing, that she was here to kill you. You immediately get into a defensive mode, ready to surround her in ice at a moments notice.

"Woah! Don't worry I'm not here to kill you silly!" You wonder what other reason she could be here then. None of it makes sense, you don't understand what the league would want with you.

"Then what are you here to do?" You know that you could capture her right now, freeze her right now and be the one who captures her. But some part of you is compelling you to let you hear what she has to say.

"Well! To put it simply cutie! We want you to be apart of the league!" She says with the widest smile like she isn't talking to a pro hero currently.

"And why do you think I would do that? I should freeze you right now and turn you in." You mumble the last part, but you can tell she still heard it.

"Well you haven't yet, sooo! And because you'd be a perfect fit silly! We've seen your interviews; seen how angry you are at the world. You can come with us! You can change the way the world is today! C'mon Glacier! Turn the world into something you want it to be!" The fact that you're even considering her offer scares you. You're a hero you shouldn't be thinking like this, but the idea of taking revenge on those who have hurt you is more temping than you'd like to admit.

She must have noticed that you were deep in thought because she broke the silence. "C'mon I can tell you're thinking about it cutie! Let's get revenge on everyone who has hurt us together!" You think about Keigo, the only person who knew the real you. He had gone through the exact same thing you had. He was like an older brother to you, the only semblance to a family you've ever had.

You sigh, "take your knife out and come here." You've decided you want to control your life. You want to be who you want to be, not what others expect you to be.

"Huh? Why silly! I'm not supposed to hurt you, just bring you back!" Why doesn't she want to hurt you, isn't that her whole thing? It thoroughly confused you.

"Well unless you want every hero in the country swarming your hide out, you've got to cut the tracker out of my neck." She smiles even wider at that. The commission had decided that you shouldn't be trusted, after you had tried to escape multiple times. So they forced a tracker into you, and threatened to kill you if you tried to take it out yourself.

"Oh my gosh!! Yay! We're gonna have so much fun together Glacier you don't understand! I'm so happy to finally have another girl in the league." She skips over to you pulling her knife out. You turn around and pull your hair back. You can't believe you're trusting this absolute psycho.

You hiss in pain as she slices the back of your neck. It's not something you can't handle though. Quickly you feel her fingers pull the little device out of your neck. You quickly freeze the skin together, stoping the bleeding and allowing for it to heal much quicker than it would before.

"Is that the only one? I'd love to do it again!!" The deranged smile she gives you makes you chuckle. You don't know why you find it funny but for some odd reason you do.

"Yeah it is, I've been completely checked for any others." This makes you think of Keigo. The night the two of you had spent checking every inch of each other's body for trackers. In any other situation than the one you guys were in, it probably would have been awkward. But you guys understand that it was information you needed if you ever wanted to get out.

"Okay!! C'mon then let's go back to the hide out! Twice is going to love you!" She grabs your hand and starts leading you away. You know that you're going to have second choices about your decision, but there's no going back now. You've made your choice, and your choice is revenge on the people who have hurt you.

As you walk she starts to talk to you. "Are you gonna tell us your real name? Or are you gonna be like Dabi who won't tell us.. he's such a meanie!" She rambles on, you think it's sweet. You wonder what happened to get her here.

"Oh it's Y/n." This is the first time you've gotten to introduce yourself with your name. Not the one that was forced upon you.

"Ooo I love your name Y/n!!" To hear your name come from a persons mouth gives you a comfort that you didn't know you needed.

"So, what happened to you that you ended up here?" You decide to be rather blunt about it. That's always just been the way you are.

"Ohh! Well I was tired of people telling me who to be! I wanted to be able to express my love the way I wanted! Not how everyone else wanted me to!" Even though it sad, she still keeps a happy face. "Look!! We're here Y/n!!" She opens the door in front of you and the first thing you see is a bar is the man with the warp power behind it, and the leagues leader sitting at it. You take a harsh breath. Preparing yourself to accept your new life.

"Hm so you were successful Toga, good job." The warp guy is the first to speak. "Welcome to the League Glacier, make yourself comfortable as this will be your new home for the time being. My name is Kurioguri, the one sitting at the bar is Tomura Shigaraki. The league's leader." You nod in response and before you can say anything Toga interrupts.

"Her name is Y/n actually!! She told me on the way here! Isn't it pretty! Twice! Come here you've got to meet her!!" Kurioguri, must sense that Toga is mildly stressing you out.

"Toga, relax you're going to scare her away and that's the last thing we want to happen." Even if you want to show him appreciation for it, it's just not how you are.

"She's fine." Your voice comes out cold, and harsh. But you could honestly care less.

"Hm little hero's got some bite to her." A man with black hair appears out of one of the rooms in the back.

"Dabiiii shushhh!" Toga says walking over to him and pulls her knife out. He just pushes her away and scoffs.

"I don't know why you guys trust her, she's probably just here to gather intel for her little hero friends." You send him a glare. The only one of those assholes who was your friend was Keigo.

"Like hell I'd put myself in that much danger for those fucking assholes. They weren't my friends. They were shitty people who wanted me to do their fucking dirty work starting the day I turned 18." This seems to shut him up as he raises his hands in defeat.

"You were right Kurioguri she'll make a perfect addition." The leader, Shigaraki finally speaks. "She has the same itch for revenge." You can slightly see his eye through the hand on his face.

"So little hero, what exactly is your quirk." He says walking towards you. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"I can freeze any thing with molecules of water, including your blood which I'm going to do if you don't get the fuck off me." You think about just pushing him off but threatening him is much more fun.

"Alright damn, you're no fun." He takes his arm off your shoulder and walks away letting himself fall onto the couch.

Toga grabs your hand telling you about how she's got to show you around and show you her room. She's so excited about it and you realize that this is your life now. And you don't think you're too mad about it.

It turned out a little shorter than I wanted but I hope you enjoyed it!! As always requests are open open and happy reading <3

[halfmoth-halfman]

forever is mine with you

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: cheating (reader gets cheated on) & fluff Prompt: Neighbors Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: we've got more gaz for @glitterypirateduck’s GazFest 2023 💜

January

Kyle's new neighbor moves in the day after New Year's.

He hadn’t even known his old neighbor had moved out, so rare was it that he spent time at home. He sees the moving van just as he’s returning from his morning run, slowing to a curious pace as he passes by to get into the apartment building. The van doors are wide open, revealing a few larger boxes and a long, black couch, but there’s no one around. 

He knows this area is safe, that there’s very little chance of someone making off with any of the boxes–and no chance of someone getting away with the couch–but he’s a worrier at heart. So, he hovers near the entrance, pretending to be occupied on his phone while keeping an eye on the van through the large glass windows of the building.  

His breath hitches in his throat the second you step into the lobby. You look positively exhausted, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings with stray pieces of your tied-up hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Deep bags run under your eyes as you blink away sleep and what Kyle suspects is remnants of a New Year’s well-spent. Despite your tired appearance, there’s a wide smile spread across your face that has his heart skipping a beat as you head out to the van and start pulling out another box. 

The box could be heavy, Kyle thinks, watching you slide it across the floor of the van. It would be rude not to offer help. 

He gets two steps toward the door when someone rushes past him, and a man hurries to the van to lift the box from your hands. You stick your tongue out at him and lean over the box to give him a quick kiss before you disappear into the van again. Kyle decides to wait to introduce himself and, with one last look at your grinning face, turns to head back to his flat.

February

He doesn’t see you again for a month. 

It’s not that he didn’t want to properly introduce himself, he just never had the chance. It seemed the two of you were operating on different schedules, only catching small glimpses of each other like ships passing in the night. 

He has one week of leave left, and Kyle intends to make every second worth it. He spends the day outside, enjoying the fresh air and treating himself to his favorite takeout. He’s reluctant to return to his flat, but the moment he steps onto his floor he can’t seem to remember why. 

All of his thoughts go straight to you, and the way you’re standing outside of your door looking like something straight out of his dreams. 

Not that he would ever admit to dreaming of you, of course.

You’re all dressed up, more beautiful than anyone Kyle has ever seen. Hair done and decorated with tiny pearls to match the string of pearls around your neck, makeup flawless right down to the velvet red painted on your lips, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s the dress that does him in. All crimson silk as it clings to every curve of your body, a slit in the leg that is so sinfully high. 

You must feel him staring because you turn your head and meet his eyes with shocking quickness. Kyle composes himself, not wanting to be labeled as the creepy neighbor, and gives a wave with a polite, friendly smile. You smile back, almost bashful, as you shift on your feet. 

Say something, he scolds himself, don’t just stare.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks once he’s managed to find his voice. You raise a brow, something like amusement crossing your face. 

“Valentine’s Day?” you laugh softly with a tilt of your head. 

Right. It was the 14th, wasn’t it? It’d been so long since he’d celebrated–or had someone to celebrate with–Kyle had stopped thinking about the holiday. 

“Fun plans, then?” he says, nodding to your dress and trying his hardest not to stare at the way your pearl necklace dips into the deep neckline. 

You shrug, and there’s a quick, nervous glance back to your door, “Not sure, yet. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Your smile falls just a bit before you overcompensate and replace it with an even bigger one, but Kyle–too observant for his own good–sees right through you.

“Not a fan of surprises?” Kyle asks before he can stop himself. 

“I–”

Your door opens, and Kyle notices the way you jump at the noise. He keeps the smile on his face, but he can feel his jaw tensing as your boyfriend steps out in his crisp black suit and red tie. He ignores Kyle altogether, sliding a hand around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. The two of you exchange quiet words before he begins to guide you toward the lift. 

You glance over your shoulder, giving Kyle a quick smile. You turn away before he has time to smile back, and Kyle resigns himself to a night alone. 

April

He’s gone for a month, but he thinks about you every day. 

He tells himself it’s curiosity, that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to get to know the new person living next to him. It’s all purely platonic. 

He knows he’s lying. 

When he finally returns home, after a draining month of blood and dry sand, he finds himself hoping to see you.

He doesn’t, not for a few days anyway. You don’t appear until he’s coming back from his morning run. He’s walking into the lobby, too busy looking at his phone, just as you’re walking out, too focused on the drink in your hand. 

You collide with him, falling into a tangle of limbs and hot coffee. There’s a flurry of apologies from both ends, only worsening when Kyle notices the coffee stain on your cream sweater. You shrug it off, telling him you weren’t going anywhere important anyway, but the guilt is still there. 

He knows he should make it up to you, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He offers to bring you up to his place and take one of his sweaters while he cleans yours.

Your face drops into an expression of shock, and worry courses through him, but you shake yourself out of your daze and, surprisingly, you agree. 

He tries to ignore the hammering of his heart as he leads you up to his flat. You don’t seem bothered, perhaps a little too trusting, following him inside without comment. 

The first thing you do is compliment his home, and Kyle feels shyness creeping up his spine. He points you to his bedroom, telling you to pick anything you want while he waits in the kitchen. He makes himself a cup of tea, trying to soothe the nerves building up in his chest. 

This isn’t how he expected his day to go, but he’s not complaining. Not when you’re feet away in his bedroom, looking through his closet so you can wear one of his shirts. 

She has a boyfriend, you idiot. Stop it. 

No matter how much he bullies himself, Kyle can’t find it in him to care.

“Military, huh?”

Kyle looks up, ready to give some snarky retort, but he sees you wearing that worn grey sweater with his last name faded across the back and his mind stops working. 

You stare at him expectantly, clearing your throat as you hold out your ruined sweater. “You alright?”

Kyle snaps out of it, taking the sweater with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” 

He most certainly is not fine and is quick to distract himself by setting your sweater on the counter as he fills a bowl with warm water from the tap. You take a seat at the counter, watching him mix vinegar and dish-washing detergent together with an adorable curiosity. 

“I had a cousin in the military,” you speak, leaning your elbows on the counter. 

Kyle chuckles, taking a rag and soaking it in the bowl. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “He never had any interesting stories, though.”

Kyle glances up at you, right in time to catch you looking at him with a sly, curious smile on your face.

“I take it you think I do?” he asks, smirk pulling at his lips as he dabs at the coffee stain on your sweater with the damp rag. 

“Do you?” You lean forward slightly, eager interest laced in your voice.

If you were anyone else he would say no, shut down the conversation before it could even begin. But you’re not anyone else, and all it takes is one look at those eyes for him to give in. 

He keeps things vague and harmless, enough to be interesting for you without revealing any important information or going into gory detail, and you hang on to every word with a refreshing fascination. You ask thoughtful questions, laugh at his cheesy jokes, and listen with an intensity he’s rarely seen, even on base. 

You urge him to continue once he’s done, pressing for more, and he’s all too happy to oblige. 

You spend the entire day with him, moving from the kitchen to the living room once your sweater is coffee-free. You don’t bother changing out of Kyle’s, far too interested in what he’s saying to consider even a few minutes of distraction. 

When the conversation shifts to lighter subjects, neither of you seems to mind. In fact, Kyle offers to make lunch, and you agree with a speed that has both of you laughing.  

You’re so easy to talk to, Kyle finds. He would talk to you forever if you allowed it, and he hopes you feel the same. He thinks you do, judging by the way you ignore your phone every time it chimes in favor of continuing your conversation.

Eventually, the sun begins to sink behind the horizon and your phone starts ringing. You roll your eyes, answering with a calm voice despite the way your shoulders tense. 

The conversation is short, and you hang up with a huff. 

“I should probably get going,” you sigh, offering him an apologetic smile. 

“It’s alright,” Kyle shrugs, an easy smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s not like you don’t live right next door.” 

You excuse yourself to change back into your sweater and bid him goodbye with a sweet smile that almost has him begging for you to stay. 

He finds his sweater folded up on the end of his bed, and his heart aches at the lingering scent of your perfume.

August

In the following months, you and Kyle become close friends.

Almost as close as he and Soap, which is saying something.

When he has to leave again, he lets you know, and you surprise him with a care package of homemade cookies and a letter the day before he leaves. You say it’s from you and your boyfriend, but you both know it isn’t; the man has actively ignored Kyle despite your best efforts to introduce them. 

Soap eats most of the cookies, but Kyle doesn’t mind, too enamored with your letter. Your letter is as cute as you are, well wishes for him to come home safe, and carrying the soft scent of your perfume. He reads it almost every night, and Soap has no problem making fun of him for it. 

“Some friend, ye got there,” Soap laughs. “Sure that’s all it is?”

Kyle knows what he should say. 

She’s seeing someone else. We’re just friends.

But Soap gives him that knowing look, and Kyle knows he can’t continue to lie to himself. 

It’s not like you’re happy with him. He’s heard you and your boyfriend fighting through the walls–voices raised, but not quite yelling–and he sees the irritation that causes you to tense when he calls or texts. You don’t smile the same when you’re with him, not like the happy carefree grin you give Kyle.

When the mission is finally finished, and Kyle is granted permission to go home, he’s made up his mind. He’s going to tell you how he feels, and let you decide where to go from there. 

Or that was the plan until he knocks on your door and you answer with red eyes, obviously swollen from crying. 

You don’t give him a chance to ask what’s wrong, throwing yourself into his arms as you sob into his chest. He guides you into your entryway, closing the door behind him with his boot. He calms and soothes you, cooing soft words and light kisses of comfort into your hair as he runs his hands up and down your back. 

He lets you cry as long as you need to, and it takes almost an hour for you to calm down enough to tell him what’s happened.

You had come home from work two days ago to find your boyfriend with another woman in your bed. He used the excuse that you had Kyle, so it was only fair that he got to get some for himself too. You had screamed and yelled and raged, throwing him out that same day as he spewed obscenities at you.

The crying starts again, and Kyle is quick to calm you, assuring you that everything’s going to be alright. 

“Didn’t need him anyway,” he huffs.

“Yeah, fuck him,” you pout, and Kyle agrees wholeheartedly.

The wallowing takes its toll on you, cries shifting to a long yawn as your eyes begin to droop. You lean your head on his shoulder, body sagging against the solid weight of him. Kyle urges you to get some sleep, offering to take the couch if you need him there. 

“No,” you mumble. “I can’t sleep here. Not in that bed.”

If he were a better man, he’d suggest the couch while he slept on the floor. 

Instead, he leads you next door, straight to his bed, where he helps tuck you in. Your eyes shut the moment your head hits the pillow, and something tugs at his heat when you subconsciously curl into his blankets. 

He turns to leave and let you have your much-needed rest, but the moment he does, your hand reaches out and wraps around his. You blink at him, eyes wide and sad, and whisper into the room, “Stay.”

And in that moment, Kyle knows he’ll never be able to deny you anything.

December

Kyle insists on taking time for yourself and letting you properly heal before jumping right into things with him. 

He’s frustratingly right, and you appreciate his concern for you, but that doesn’t change how much you feel for him. 

Your now ex-boyfriend had been right to an extent; you certainly felt things for Kyle you hadn’t felt for him in a long time. Of course, you never acted on those feelings–unlike him–staying close to Kyle while keeping things platonic. 

You’d seen it coming for a while, if you were honest with yourself. The new place was a temporary fix, a flimsy band-aid slapped over an ever-growing crack in the glass of an aquarium. You knew you deserved better than his dependency and weaponized incompetence.

You knew the flood was imminent, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.  

But now he’s gone, and while you know you need time to recover, it’s hard to concentrate when Kyle hands you a key to his flat and tells you you’re welcome anytime. 

You try to tell him you’re fine, that the ending of your relationship had been more like a weight lifting from your shoulders, but he insists you take at least two weeks and one therapy visit before making your decision.

You oblige, and you have to admit he knows what he’s talking about. When the two weeks are up, you tell him you need more time, ignoring the smug grin on his face. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t taunt you with an I told you so, but you can see it in his eyes. He does tell you he’s proud of you, and you ride the high that gives you all the way to your next therapist visit. 

Kyle leaves in the last week of August, letting you spend his last night with him in his bed. He doesn’t make a move on you, simply holding you close while murmuring impossible promises of safety and success to your sleeping form. 

It’s agony waiting for him to return, never knowing what could be happening to him while you’re safe and sound in the comfort of his home. The space is good for you, though. It gives you time to process things, to really talk through your emotions and concerns with your wonderfully patient therapist. 

You’ve barely been in your own home in the past few months, the anxiety and betrayal that stalks the halls too much for you to handle, and she helps you realize that you need to make some changes. 

So, when Kyle returns at the end of November, he finds you in his kitchen, dancing along to a song on your phone as you cook something that smells positively delicious. 

He’s content to watch you, welcoming the sight of you after a long and tedious mission.

It’s something he could get used to coming home to. 

When you finally notice him, it only takes a second for the realization to hit you before you’re leaping into his arms with an excited cheer. Kyle wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can, welcoming your familiar warmth and scent. He tries to lean forward to tuck his face into your neck, but you stop him, placing your hands on his jaw.

He stares at you curiously, watching your eyes dip down to his mouth before you pull him forward to close the gap. A year’s worth of swallowed emotions pour into the kiss, and when you pull away, Kyle chases after you to kiss you again. 

You spend the rest of the night attached to one another. Kyle “helps” you cook, keeping his hands on your hips as he peppers smiling kisses and gentle nips down your neck. You push him away with sweet giggles, but he always comes back seconds later. 

When dinner’s done and eaten, he pulls you to the couch into his lap, so he can continue smothering you in kisses. You meet him kiss for kiss, unable to get enough of him. It takes nearly an hour before you’re able to separate yourself from him to give him your news. 

“I’m not renewing my lease,” you murmur against his kiss-swollen lips, a shy glance up to look him in his beautiful, brown eyes. “Figured I should look for a new place that isn’t littered with memories of that bastard.” 

Kyle hums thoughtfully, trailing kisses along your cheek. “Plenty of room here.”

You click your tongue, laying a hand on his cheek to turn his face to look directly at you. “Kyle–”

“It’s not like that’s not where this was going anyway, right?” He gives you another chaste kiss and a cheeky smile. “You already have a key. Might as well–”

“Make it official?” you laugh. 

“Exactly.” 

You let out a long, exaggerated sigh with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “Fine, you’ve managed to convince me–”

You don’t get to finish, as Kyle cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss.

January

After a long night of celebrating and congratulations from his teammates, Kyle’s girlfriend officially moves in the day after New Year’s.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Ambitious King.

Long live the King of Beasts, he who shines like the sun.

He stands atop the heap, clutching victory in his righteous grasp.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"We've come to finals of the interschool Spelldrive tournament!" an announcer blares over the stadium. "It's down to the wire, and this will be the deciding round. With the scores tied, it’s anyone’s game!!"

A crowd chomps at the bit for a winner to emerge from the field. They lean forward in their seats, clutch onto hope, stuff their mouths with soda and popcorn. This is a show, the players, actors, and they, the audience.

Leona allows himself a smirk.

We’ll give’m a real show-stopper then. That crown is as good as mine.

“What should our strategy be this time, sir?” a teammate—a Scarabia student—asks.

They’re huddled shoulder to shoulder, one student contributed from each of the seven dorms. Their allegiances may lie in different places, but they all wear the same black and violet uniform. They are all Night Ravens, united under one banner: his.

“We’ll finish this in a single decisive blow,” Leona replies, snapping his goggles on. “I’ll take the disc and score us that final point. The rest of you, cover me.”

“You heard the boss,” the smallest player says. It’s Epel, tiny but feisty—a contrast to his big blue eyes and lilac waves of hair. “Don’t worry, Leona-senpai! I’ll fer sure keep’m offa yer tail!”

“That’s what I like to hear, kid.” He raises his head and calls, “Clear!”

And with that, the players peel off into their own positions. The other team, uniforms pristine white and hemmed in royal blue, are patiently waiting. Leona pulls up to the center of the field where the referee and the opposing team’s leader await.

When he looks, he falters.

It’s a face that is frighteningly similar to his own.

The same skin color, the same lion ears and tail, the same construction of the features—if not softer and more friendly. His mane is held up in a ponytail, bright red-orange that fades into a golden yellow. He’s younger than he should be, missing the slight creases under his warm brown eyes and the lines that flank his perpetually smiling mouth.

“Falena?”

An icy dread creeps up from his core. The world around him seems to slow and come to a complete stop.

But this can’t be. My brother is 10 years older than me. He’s no longer a student, he’s—

“Leona? Is something wrong?” Falena inquires with a cheeky grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to play against family.”

Annoyance flares up.

Brother or not, Leona detests that smile. The smile of a man that has robbed him of everything.

“Dream on,” he snarls back. “I’m overthrowing Royal Sword Academy and you."

The referee lets the disc drop and blows into his whistle. “BEGIN!!”

"Aaand it's started!!" the announcer declares.

His body instinctively kicks into action. He swipes the frisbee, keeping it afloat in a blaze of blood-red magic.

RSA swarm him, magical pens at the ready.

“Protect him…!” he hears Epel shout. “Protect the king!!”

His team charges, each of them trained on their target. NRC and RSA, reflecting the other, copying movements as they bound around on the field, seeking an opening or cutting it off.

Leona blows into enemy territory, furiously racing to the goal post.

"What's this?! It looks like Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team has already devised a plan to secure victory. They're closing off any aid the RSA team can offer to each other!"

The crowd revs up like an engine coming alive, a slumbering city waking. Blood thunders in his ears, louder than his audience.

"Oh no, you don't!"

"Oooh, and here comes the upset! It's Captain Kingscholar of the RSA team, come to interfere with the game plan!"

Leona swerves, and a stream of fire narrowly misses him. "Tsk!"

A flash of red and gold, and there's his brother at his side. "Sorry, Leona. It won't be that easy."

"Knock it off. I don't have time to play games with you!"

He dives, trying to shake Falena off--but he pursues, relentless in the chase. They thread each other in the sky, trading spells.

Explosions of heat and color. Shards of ice whizzing by, columns of water. Windy whips lashing at them. All-consuming light and darkness.

"This is amazing, folks! We are witnessing a brotherly quarrel the likes of which we've never seen before... Look at that dazzling display of flight technique and spellwork!"

Through it all, Falena' laughs.

So carefree, so cheerful. A knife twists in his chest, and the anger spikes again.

"That's enough...! I'm ending this," Leona snarls.

His magic collects in a single sphere. There is no body to it, no true shape--only a contained vortex of gales. They violently churn in an endless cycle, raising a storm in a jar.

He sends it hurtling at Falena, who moves to conjure a barrier--

Too late.

The ball expands, releasing its energy in one deep sigh. The audience is slammed back into their seats, the players blown to the ground or sent crashing into the bounds of the stadium. They're dazed, confused, scrambling to rebalance on their brooms.

The path, he sees, is clear.

Now...!

He lets out a monstrous roar and blitzes for the goal post. The disc sparkles, charging with power for the final blow as he gallops toward his prize.

The announcer hops back on, his voice frantic. "Could this be it?! Can Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team reclaim the throne from his brother?!"

Noise builds around him. RSA players calling out to each other, NRC players changing his name, the crowd cheering.

It's now or never.

Leona spikes the disc with all his might. It clears, the winning shot like a shooting star. Some golden object encapsulated in a blaze of fire.

The adrenaline in his blood sings with triumph. His tired muscles, his heavy breathing, the sweat upon his brow--badges of honor.

The sound intensifies, joined by whistles and shrieks. Feet stomping, hands clapping. People standing and hugging their neighbors. (Leona thinks he sees Crowley among them, sobbing uncontrollably.)

“This is incredible, ladies and gentlemen! You’ve just witnessed history being made today…! Night Raven College has snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, breaking Royal Sword Academy’s 99 year win streak!!"

Leona slowly returns to the ground, dismounting from his broom. He lands beside Falena, who is sprawled on his back and wearing the usual smile.

"Ahahah, looks like you beat me," he says casually.

"... Fool. Get up, you look ridiculous. The acting king of the Sunset Savanna shouldn't be rolling around in the dirt." Leona looks away, but awkwardly offers a hand.

Falena laughs and accepts it, hauling himself up. "That's a funny joke. When did you get a sense of humor?"

He scowled. "I didn't make one."

"Are you still half asleep? And you still beat me?" Falena punches him in the bicep. "That's my talented big bro."

"What... big bro?"

There it is again: something cold and sinister inside of him. The lingering feeling of wrongness.

Suddenly, the adrenaline in him turns toxic, and he feels as though his flesh and bones are burning. Leona seizes Falena by the shoulders and shakes him.

"What the hell is going on... Gaaah!"

A metallic screech fills the stadium. Pain blossoms in his ears, and Leona rushes to guard them, hands dropping away from Falena.

"Oops, sorry! Technical difficulties, folks!" the announcer apologizes. "It looks like even our equipment wants to cheer for Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team, the star player of today! Let's give him a round of applause!!"

They explode with excitement, Clapping and calling out louder than he can think.

"What a judicious young man!"

"He controls such powerful magic with ease...!"

He stands there, shocked, at the rain of adoration. Him, recognized? Respected, saluted, and seen as the wonder he is? Him?

His mind clouds.

What is this,,,?

"Leona-saaaan!!"

He turns, finding his teammates jogging over, Epel at the head. There are members of his own dorm with them--Ruggie, Jack.

"We gotcha now, Leona-san! Thought you could get away without getting your fur ruffled, huh?" Ruggie snickers, then gives Jack a thumbs-up. "Alright, fellas. You know what to do!"

"Hah, the hell is this? I didn't ask for a surprise after working my tail off."

"Sorry, Leona-senpai! Ruggie-senpai's orders!" Jack says very seriously. "This is the only way to give you a proper sendoff for carrying us to victory... You've earned it!"

"1, 2, 3...!"

"Wha...?!"

Leona is seized and hoisted into the air with a collective whoop of excitement. Tossed up, up, up. The stadium lights glaring, sound blasting.

He returns back to his peer's arms, and heaved up again. Down and up, down and up. Each pass makes him more nauseous, blinded and deafened by the dizzying joy.

"Long live the king! Long live the king!!" they chant.

The king... me? Leona fights against it, pushing as hard as he can.

But his body is tired, his mental capacities drained, his emotions worn. The situation, too sweet, too cloying.

I'm... the king... I won. This is my prize.

He closes his eyes and lets himself fall.

This time, for good.

When he opens them again, he swears he sees a dark figure flying high above the stadium. Not on a broom, but floating of his own accord. A pair of horns protrudes him his head, and he glimpses a pair of ghostly white hands clapping.

One additional spectator with glowing green eyes.

"Congratulations, Kingscholar."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

Even if she tied it to one condition. 

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

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't worry, I won't tell." 

This gets him a huffed laugh. 

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

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

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

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

Well, shit. 

"Listen, your highness …" 

"Steve is fine." 

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

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

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

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

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 

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

Eddie frowns. 

"Dustin as in the kid or …" 

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[holybibly]

I'm imagining cam boy! Matz that invite you on their stream to try something new and end tying you up and blindfolding you, Hwa kissing your neck while Hongjoong teases you with light caresses with a whip only to smack you with it here and there to surprise you, loving your startled moans and the way your entire body twitches until he reaches your pussy and slaps your clit with it until he has you coming all over it while Seonghwa patiently waits his turn and plays with your nipples 🥴

✨I am here to brighten your evening/day with hard/unholy hours ✨

Wow! Baby, write me more, I want to know every thought that's lurking in your head. Cos it's bloody hot in here, isn't it?

Everyone should just admit it: we are MATZ's absolute whores. Their dynamics, their style, their classy looks - we just need more. Honestly, I can never get enough of them.

The first person to see you was Seonghwa. You were made of vanilla, radiating tenderness, and he could already taste it on his tongue. Innocent. Pure. Absolutely fuckable.

Hongjoong will be so in love with you.

In a way, you were a reminder of Seonghwa's self before his meeting with Hongjoong. Hongjoong had once ruined him completely, and now Seonghwa was desperate to ruin someone personally.

Their dynamic was simple: Seonghwa is vicious, alluring, and majestic, and Hongjoong is dark, dominant, and depraved. It was the perfect duet. Hongjoong fucked Seonghwa; Seonghwa fucked Hongjoong; it was all so simple, but between the two of them, there was this strange void that they were trying to fill. They wanted someone soft and gentle, someone they could spoil with wealth and luxury, and someone they could fuck regularly.

And you—you were ideal.

A few seductive words, a few lingering touches, a few expensive gifts and luxurious dates, a few hours of long kisses and passionate sex, and you were all theirs.

It never bothered you that they were cam boys in the first place. In fact, you might have liked it a little too much, but you would never admit it out loud.

They have never included you in their plans. Until today. You looked too seductive in that pretty lace underwear set - all that white lace and frills. You were just begging to be scolded.

"Don't be afraid, princess. We're not going to hurt you. We just want to play with you for a little while and show everyone what a beautiful doll Hongjoong and I have." Seonghwa whispered tenderly into your ear. His hands tied a wide satin band around your head, blinding you. "You're going to like it, I promise." He said this as he tied your hands together behind your back and completely restricted your movement.

You were seated on the edge of the bed in front of Seonghwa. Your legs were spread wide and held in place by his long legs. All in all, you were at their mercy. Blinded and immobilised, just as they wanted you to be.

"Good evening, everyone," Hongjoong's voice purred, and at that moment, you felt how Seonghwa's lips started sensuously kissing your neck. His thin, cold fingers traced a slow path along the curve of your breasts above your bra. The sensation sent goosebumps up and down your skin.

"Hwa and I are doing great, thank you for asking." You try to catch every word that Hongjoong says, but the way Seonghwa's hot mouth sucks and licks your neck doesn't help you at all and you start to fall into the pit of lust and submission.

"We've got something special for you today."

You hear a rustling sound; most likely, Joong is turning the camera so that you and Seonghwa will be visible to the public.

And a deafening sound of sharp dings of more tip notifications fills the room as soon as your cute figure is on public display. Hongjoong's laughter and Seonghwa's soft mooing against your neck echo in the ringing of the coins.

"This is Hwa and me's beautiful girl. Isn't she a sight for sore eyes?"

And that is how it begins.

Another sharp blow to the inside of your thigh made you scream out in fright. This had been going on for a long time. Every nerve in your body was hypersensitive, and every touch was like a scorching flame. Hongjoong drove you crazy with his games, while Seonghwa rubbed and pinched your nipples. 

Your juices dripped shamelessly on the bed. Your beautiful lace panties were pushed aside so that all of Seonghwa and Hongjoong's subscribers could see your slutty little cunt. 

"I can't take it anymore, please. It hurts." You were literally whimpering; the silk ribbon over your eyes was wet from the tears that were pouring out of your eyes without stopping. 

"You're doing so well, Princess." Seonghwa said as he ran his fingers up and down your thigh in a slow, seductive path. "One more orgasm, love; give us one more, and we'll give you some rest." 

A new tinkling sound echoed through the room, and you heard Hongjoong giggling enthusiastically.

"That's a great idea, guys. Our girl will be in love with it, in my opinion."

Hongjoong's words didn't bode well, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Fear and excitement mixed.

You shrieked and arched into Songhwa's arms, moaning loudly and throwing your head back onto his shoulder as the soft, cold skin of the whip touched your heated, wet folds. The tightly twisted material rubbed against your throbbing clit a few times before slapping against it weakly. 

The sensation was like a bolt of lightning running through your body. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head under the tight blindfold, all of your body shaking uncontrollably as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. Your mouth was open in a silent, gasping moan, and your juices spurted everywhere, soaking the expensive sheets beneath you. 

You slowly came back to reality after a dizzying orgasm, and Seonghwa removed the blindfold from your tear-stained eyes and kissed your cheek gently. 

"My beautiful princess."

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Hongjoong chats sweetly with his audience, reading the comments and telling his followers about you. All the while, Seonghwa keeps kissing your neck and shoulders and playing with your swollen nipples. 

When Hongjoong turns to you, a seductive grin plays across his devilishly handsome features, and his dark eyes sparkle like topazes—seductive and dangerous.

"Are you ready for your next game, my love? Let's show our viewers just how good Seonghwa is at eating you up."   After this, you'll never want to join them on a live stream again. 

[darlingsfandom]

Idk if u still accept requests but I'm CRAVING an old cillian teaching his young virgin yn how does sex goes 🫠

I am accepting request ! 💕

Warnings: p in v raw, accidental cum inside, lose of virginity and age gap!

Cillian was relaxing on the couch when you came into the room with your hands behind your back. He looked away from whatever movie he was watching to see you standing there with that smile.

"Wat are ya up to darlin?" He asked while adjusting his position on the couch.

"Nothin!" You quickly responded as you approached him and sat down next him on the couch.

"I don't believe ya honey! Ya have dat look on yer face when ya want sometim!" Cillian wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. You pursed your lips together in thought before kissing him on his lips. Your hands rested on his thighs while your lips moved against his in a passionate way. You pulled away slowly leaving Cillian with a smile. "See... I knew ya wanted sometim!"

"I want to have sex." The words flew from your mouth faster than what you thought about. Cillians eyes widened while he squeezed your arm making you whine. "Please ? I know we're ready. We've been together eight months Cillian, I feel ready." His hand cupped your cheek softly before rubbing his thumb over cheek as he looked into your eyes.

"I always said I'd wait till yer were ready. Didn't want ya tinking I only wanted ya for dat." The gap between your bodies closed when Cillian leaned in and kissed you feverishly. His chest pressed into yours while your hands reached up and held his face while his tongue swept across your bottom lip making you open up enough that his tongue went inside your mouth. A soft moan escaped your throat as his fingers traced down your arms slowly before he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap.

Both of you sat still for a moment taking each other in. This is your first time having sex ever! Cillian respected all your choices. He just recently started seeing you naked as of two months ago. He walked in on you changing into your pajamas after your shower and he was lost for words. Since then the two of you have been walking around naked or you're randomly flashing him your tits just for fun! You were his girl , his stunning girl!

"We can go slow as ya want baby." His thumbs pressed into your hips while you ran your hands over his chest. You nodded your head slowly before taking your hands, grabbing your shirt and tossing it to the side. Cillians eyes lit up and his mouth quickly attached to your nipple. "Sorry love, couldn't help me self! Wanted to do dat for a long time." He mumbled into your chest as your fingers slowly ran through his hair. Yeah sex was new to you, but porn wasn't. You were thinking about every thing you had ever seen to try to make this seem right.

"Cillian... honey... I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do." Your body shifted slightly as Cillian pulled away from your nipple. He picked you up, set you on your feet and grabbed your hand to take you into the shared bedroom. Cillian laid you on your back gently before getting on top of you.

"Don't ya worry honey, I got ya." His fingers hooked into your shorts and pulled them down slowly while leaving kisses along the skin of your thighs. Cillian watched how your body reacted to his kisses. He was amazed by you. You watched as he slid your panties off and your legs closed quickly. Cillian had seen your pussy before , it's was beautiful to him.

"Just relax." Cillian brought his fingers to your mouth and you quickly wrapped your lips around them sucking throughly while looking into his eyes. He twisted his fingers in your mouth before pulling them out and sliding one into you.

"OH!!" Your mouth hung open as the sting rippled through your body. Cillian used his other hand to hold yours and squeeze it while his finger twisted around inside of you. He slid another finger inside of you while pushing deeper making your hips thrust forward.

"See baby, tis just like when ya touch yerself, but it's me fingers instead." His words made you whine loudly. This was nothing like masturbating, this felt better! Cillian scissored you open with his fingers slowly but surely before he pulled them out and stuffed them back into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his fingers while giving him the doe eyes that got you anything everything you wanted. Cillian pulled his fingers out before he pulled down his boxers. His cock sprung free and a groan left his lips as the cool bedroom air breezed over it.

"Do I... do I get to suck your cock ?" You asked softly while he climbed onto the bed he kissed you gently. He lined the head of his cock up with your folds and pushed into gently.

"CILLIAN!" Tears ran down your cheeks as the sting and pressure hurt.

"I'll stop baby." Cillian pulled back out slowly and wiped your tears away with his thumb. Both of you stayed still for a minute before you nodded at him to go again. Cillian pushed back again slowly making sure to wait for you. Your hands ran up his chest and played with his chest hair a little. Each inch he pushed in you grabbed his chest hair making him moan.

"Look at dat baby, I'm all the way in!" Cillian smiled at you while leaning into kiss your lips. Your tongue licked his lips making him open his mouth so your tongue could swirl around in his mouth. Cillian lifted your hips upwards and started pushing in and out of your pussy slowly. "So tight and wet fer me! Me good girl!" Your hands reached up and grabbed his shoulders to pull him in for another hot kiss.

"Harder! Please!" The words fell out of your mouth quickly. His thrust became harder at your request which made him grunt while you moaned out his name. "Fuck yes!" Your nails dug into his back while Cillian looked down into your eyes. Your little doe eyes were filled with lust, a look he'd never seen before but he wasn't complaining. This was a new level of your relationship. Sure the age gap of twenty two years would be weird to some, but not to the two of you. This moment made it clear how much he cared about you. He didn't pressure you, he waited for your comfort and he was focused on your pleasure not his.

The thoughts swirled in your mind before a new sensation waved through your body. You knew the feeling from your own pleasure before but not like this. Cillian squeezed your hips as his cock pulsed in you. His grunts were getting louder as the head of his cock hit your sweet spot. Your toes curled in a new way as your nails dug into his shoulder blades, your eyes locked in on his as Cillian pounded into your wet cunt .

"I know honey, yer gettin close! Dats me girl! Cum fer me yeah! Be a good girl!" His voice was enough to send you over the edge. Your body lunged forward , toes curled hard, he used his free hand to cup your face so you had to look into his eyes as your orgasm hit you hard. Watching you cum was enough to make Cillian cum inside of you on accident. It felt amazing as his cum shot inside of you , the warm liquid coating your cervix made you smile weakly up him. Cillian slowly pulled out of you and watched as his cum dropped out of you .

He disappeared slowly into the bathroom and came back with a warm wet wash cloth to clean you up. You hissed a little making him chuckle. "Ya can take a poundin on yer first time but a little water ..." You sat up on your elbows and watched as he cleaned up the mess between your legs. Cillian went to toss the rag in the hamper before climbing into bed with you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder as your head laid upon his sweaty hairy chest.

"Next time.... I want to ride you!" You spoke softly while playing with his hairs.

"Oh honey, we can do whatever ya want! Still gonna hurt for ta next few times but I'll always take care of ya."