Sing to the stars one last time for me
The Inheritance Games but royal x said royal!reader (all relationships with reader are platonic)
Summary: Uhh reader is quite literally a queen, hawthornes live and have lived in the palace for generations, thus just a bunch of chaos with no clear direction 👍
A/N: I know I said it was gonna be angsty but then it just ended up being a crackfic but there will be more parts, said parts will hopefully make you lot suffer. Also i didn't really reread this because then i'm gonna cry but i had like 5 people read it so it's lowkey proofread
Warnings: dick threatening, alcohol mention, lemme know if there's anything else
“…And now, whilst keeping the late king, F/N, in our hearts, we now crown our new monarch, y/n! May their life be long and blessed, and their heart full of love. Long live the Queen!” The… speech giver guy announced (I lowkey forgot his name… and position title…), as he placed the gleaming crown on my head. It was rather heavy. And rather big. It wasn’t exactly meant for me right now, I guess. The cheers went up in the crowd, but I could still hear the tentativeness. Rightfully so, I mean, I’m literally fucking 14, the fuck am I gonna do with a 100 pound crown on my head???
“Jameson, I swear to god, if you fucking turn off my computer, I’m gonna kick your dick off,” I threaten, shooting a glare at said Hawthorne.
“Leave my dick alone! Why do you always kick it, holy shit, I’m not having kids at this rate,” he says, taking a big step back just in case. “Anyway, you’ve been working for hours, give it a rest. Your brain is probably melting.”
“I’m fine, shoo, begone.”
He makes as if to walk away, but then abruptly fakes ruffling my hair and shuts my computer, ruffling my hair with a smirk. He is so getting his dick kicked off.
“Jamie, leave the kid alone. But, also, darlin’, he’s right, you’ve been working for hours, take a small break,” Nash says, cutting in, running his hand over the brim of his cowboy hat. I groan, running a hand over my face.
“Fine, but only because a certain asshole closed my fucking computer.” I glower at Jamie, who only shrugs and grins from where he’s now perched on the table. Sighing, I get up and stretch. Holy shit, that felt good, maybe I have been at my desk for too long. I need coffee. But first…
I casually make my way near Jamie, who eyes me cautiously. I smile my most innocent, dazzling smile. The bastard now looks scared. Good. Nash lets out a long suffering sigh, albeit grinning; he’s seen this dance show before. Before I can actually do anything, Xander barges in, beaming whilst holding scones, Grayson behind him.
“Oh good lord, why are you all in here, what could you possibly want?” I say, crossing my arms, because seriously, what the fuck do they want from me? Wait no, that’s mean of me, I love and appreciate them, I promise even though some of them need a good ass whooping I just need them all to fuck off right now.
“Wow, who got y/n to take a break??” Xander asks around the scones stuffed in his mouth. I shoot my glower his way.
“Hey, that hurts my feelings!” He mock pouts. “You’re not getting scones anymore.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and summon every ounce of strength I can to not just drop kick all of them out the window. Fuck the coffee, I need a shot. No. Not a shot. Shots.
“Break’s over, everyone get the fuck out.”
Grayson looks mildly disgruntled.
“I didn’t even say anything yet—“
“You just did, get the fuck out Double B.”
“What the hell does double b mean—“
“Blond bitch, now out, all of you, I have work, I’m not unemployed like you lot.”
There are various protests as I shove give them a gentle nudge to the door. Honestly, the protests were accurate considering they’re all my advisors, I guess (it’s literally only Grayson who does shit), but like, they don’t get paid (neither do I), so it doesn’t count.
Nash is the last out. He gives me a look and said, “You better not skip dinner again by lockin’ yourself in here, you hear me?”
“Yes sir,” I say, mock saluting before shutting the door. Ah, finally. Me, my study, and my fucking work. How I love staring at statistics till it stops making sense. How fun. Wait, aw man, I forgot to ask them about those two girls… what were their names… oh, right, Avery and Libby Grambs. For some reason, the old man wrote the former into his will and gave her basically his entire fortune like a few weeks ago (it might have been a month, I don’t know). Fortunately, I’m not wrapped up in that mess, but they live in the palace now so I see them around. They’re nice enough, but I’ve never really interacted much with them (Grayson’s fault; he keeps them far, far away from me).
When I look up again from my computer screen, it’s 8. 6 hours passed. What the fuck.
I weigh my options; I can get drunk or I can grind.
Getting drunk sounds more appealing by a mile.I shut off my computer and get up, cracking every bone in my body. Lowkey would not be surprised if my body ended up stuck in that position.
Wait, dinner. If I skip again, Nash is gonna beat my ass. Eh, who’s gonna tell him? I’m so tired, I just want to get wasted. Wise? No. I’m gonna have a hell of a hangover when I wake up. But, I’ve sat through a 2 hour meeting with a banging hangover migraine and none of those boring old men knew, I’ll be fine.
And so, with that, I make my way to my room, a bottle of alcohol screaming my name.
I basically float through the door, only to be greeted by the very unpleasant sight of a cowboy holding a plate with a half eaten sandwich and another plate with two sandwiches next to him.
I’m going to spontaneously explode. Wait, actually, no, I’m hungry, that sandwich looks nice. Thank fuck for Nash Hawthorne.
But, also, fuck you, Nash.
The fucker tips his hat at me, pats the spot next to him, and gestures to the plate.
And so, we eat in silence (I basically inhale those sandwiches, I’m hungry as fuck).
A text buzzes from both of our phones.
Hawthorne Hoes (and basically-a-Hawthorne Queen)
Scone Breather: MOVIE NIGHT!!!
Scone Breather: when? Right now
Scone Breather: where? my room (I made a fort)
Well, there go my plans of getting wasted. While I could technically just not go, I’m going to get jumped tomorrow. Plus, whatever. I’ll just end up sleeping 20 minutes in. And, it’ll be fun, though I’ll be the last person to admit that to them.
Yeehaw reacted 👍to “MOVIE NIGHT!!!”
Alcohol 😍😍: can we invite our resident mystery girl heiress and blue haired sister
Stick-up-his-ass: Absolutely not.
I switch off my phone for the rest of that conversation. Nash grins at me and hauls me up, then plopping his damn cowboy hat on me.
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