#and I think it loves her (them). I think it sees them as like lost children coming home đ
GOOD SIDE - FC43
summary : She hates him, heâs intrigued and doesnât understand why anyone would distlike him. Franco tries to win Charlesâ sister over with coffee and good racing.
listen up : no warnings!! my first franco fic <3
word count : 1067
â・â§Ëâ
All eyes have been on Franco Colapinto for the past three weeks. All eyes including mine.
I watch the boy walk across the pit lane, grinning widely at his team. My arms are crossed in the ferrari garage, Charles is talking my ear off but I'm not even listening.
I miss my paddock best friend. All the boys on the grid are like my brothers, but Logan was genuinely my friend. I didnât even go to Monza and fucked myself while boycotting because I missed my brother win.
I watch the team embrace the boy. I never realized how young he looks until now. Heâs a year older than me, found that out when I was stalking his social media.
Charles noticed my stink eye and nudges me, âHeâs a good kid. Donât be mean!â I know Logan wasnât performing well. Iâm not blind.
But I canât help but be salty for him.
âI wonât be mean.â I turn to see Alex and Franco walking towards us, I try to walk away but the hoodie for my sweatshirt is grabbed by Charles and I'm yanked backwards.
âFranco, This is my baby sister, Y/n!â Charles swings his arm around me, I roll my eyes and look back at Franco.
Heâs cute and as he smiles at me I have a weird feeling that I need to make it stop. I turn to my new favorite williamâs boy.
âAlex!â I smile wide and I can see my brother eyeing me already, âNice Quali! Proud of you.â
He nods, âAppreciate it Y/n.â He glances at Franco, forcing me to say something. I give them what they want and look at him.
âColapinto, is it?â I blink. âYouâve got an interesting driving style.â
Francoâs smile doesnât falter. âInteresting enough to earn me P9.â My eyes narrow at him, âNice to know you were watching me.â
I cross my arms but before I can say more, Charles interrupts me.
He laughs loudly, trying to drown out my voice, âAlright! Don't mind her, Franco, sheâs been a little salty recently- well actually sheâs always like this.â He shakes his head and leads the men in blue away.
Franco looks back at me as Alex starts talking rapidly, and I swear Iâm hallucinating because I think he winks.
â・â§Ëâ
Iâm sitting on the pit wall, Susie is talking me through all the little buttons and graphs. Even though I'm Ferrari till I die, Susie is like family and has always been there for me. I feel an unexpected tap on my shoulder which makes me whip around.
I look down to see Franco holding two cups of coffee. âMorning Mrs. Wolff!â He smiles at Susie, then me. I didnât even know he met her. My eyebrow is already raised, âMind if I borrow Y/n?â
Susie laughs softly, looking at him then me, âGo ahead.â I get off the chair slowly and he motions for me to take the cup.
âCharles mentioned you liked coffee.â I hesitate for a second, taking the cup. I sip it and mentally groan because Iâve been needing to get some today.
âBuying my affection already, Huh?â I glance at him as we walk down the pit lane. I'm wearing a short, flowy, white dress and a Ferrari cap, happy since it's so hot.
âDonât be silly, This was free.â I sip my coffee to stop myself from laughing, âI do have to get on your good side somehow.â
I look away from him, âYou took my best friend's seat.â
âHe lost it.â When I look back at him, heâs already looking at me.
I sigh and keep walking, he catches up quickly, âSo⌠Youâre Charlesâ Sister.â
I flip my hair over my shoulder, âYouâre sherlock?â
âYouâre pretty.â
I let out a dry laugh, âYouâre straightforward. Iâve seen three interviews of you flirting and you havenât even made it to your second race yet.â He laughs and it makes me feel good that I made him do that.
âWhat can I say? The people love me.â He shrugs and it's my turn to laugh now.
âIâm sure your media crew hates you.â
âI can confirm they definitely do.â He stops when he gets to his garage, âI donât want you too though.â
I take a breath, âLetâs see how you do in the race and weâll see.â I hear someone yell his name from inside the garage.
He doesnât move, âYou base all your relationships off of driving results?â
âRelationships?â I scoff as he licks his lips, âDonât get too cocky now.â
Franco shakes his head, a curl falling into his face, âNot cocky. Just a glass half full type of guy.â
â・â§Ëâ
I hug Oscar as he walks out of his garage at the end of the day, âYou fucking rocked it.â He laughs as I pull back, âSeriously, I'm proud and you beat my brother!â
Charles practically spawns, âWe all know your loyalty is not to me.â All the boys have changed and are starting to leave. Carlos disappeared after crashing on the second to last lap but all I can do is smile for Lando who got bumped up to fourth.
Speaking of, Lando joins us with Franco by his side, his mouth running per usual. Everyone starts talking and congratulating Oscar again.
I find Franco by my side, he leans in slightly, âMy result good enough for you?â
I look up at the sky, âPretty good. I hate to say it but⌠you did well.â
He grins, âWell enough to get your number?â
I look to my brother to make sure he isnât listening, âYouâre playing with fire here, Colapinto.â
âBurn me.â He says it so quick that I almost donât register the look on his face. He looks at me so genuinely with those hazel eyes and speaks again, âPor Favor? s'il te plaĂŽt? Please?â
The âPleaseâsâ makes me laugh. One in Spanish, one in French, and one in English to cover all his bases, âYouâre such a flirt.â
âFor you.â
âDonât lie. You flirt with everyone.â I give him a look, he pulls a slow smile.
âIf you were mine I'd never look at anyone else again.â Oddly enough, I believe him.
âIf I were yours?â I step closer and he nods, âHm⌠If I were yours- I think we would see pigs flying.â
He just grins, âI can arrange that.â
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Can I request a Damian Priest x reader fic?, reader thinks Damian is cheating on her with Kayden so she distances herself from him and tries to avoid him. She's been hurt in the past (By ex partner) hence her accusations.
damian priest x reader
likes, comments and reblogs are more than welcomed!
âźď¸angst, mention of cheating, feels, ex partners mentioned
odyssey of love
damian loved you. you had no doubt on that. he loved you more than anything, you were his partner, his ride or die, his best friend, his lover. there was no reason for you to doubt of his love for you. and yet, you couldnât get past that feeling of damian and kayden being constantly together.
theyâve been friends for many years, he knew her before he got to meet you so you werenât surprised there was a special bond between the two of them.
but having her around all the time was getting tiring. when you were at damianâs place, she was there. you didnât mind filming their tiktoks, but you minded having her all the time when it was supposed be just you and your boyfriend.
you barely had free time together anymore.
car rides? she took your spot and now you felt like they were dating and you were the friend.
movie nights? she was always there, stealing your spot on the couch, getting more and more comfortable next to damian.
gym? he started training more with her than you, leaving you alone or with rhea sometimes.
your heart didnât want to think that damian was capable of cheating on you with her, but your mind was playing tricks with you and at this point you were sure he liked her more than you.
rhea noticed how you distanced yourself when you were all out together. at dinner you always took spots near damian but now you didnât even care, all you wanted to do was disappear.
you thought that after your past relationship, you finally had found peace with damian. he promised you that he would never hurt you, that he would never lie to you. he promised and you believed him. still healing from what your ex boyfriend left you with. trust issues, insecurities and a lot of traumas.
but damian was different, or so you thought.
you knew you had to confront him somehow. you deserved to know if he was cheating on you. you needed to know before you became paranoid. and when he texted you that he would come over at your place with food and drinks, you knew it was now or never.
damian knew that something was wrong the moment you didnât greet him at the gym two weeks ago. he found it weird, maybe too weird. being used to your bubbly personality, he thought that something was wrong the exact moment you avoided him and kept training with rhea. he tried to have conversations with you for the past days but you always dodged him off.
he was tired of it. he needed to know what was going on. he needed to know if your feelings for him changed. so when he offered to have a take out night at your place, he hoped for you to say yes. and when you agreed, he was more than happy to see his girl.
you were lost in your thoughts that you didnât even hear damian opening your front door with the spare keys you gave him once your relationship got serious.
sitting on the couch, you pretended to be lost in whatever show the tv was playing, waiting for damian to make his appearance into your living room.
âhey beautifulâ he whispered, not wanting to disturb you as he thought you were interested in the show.
âoh, hey damianâŚâ you made him sit next to you on the couch, helping you set the little table in front of you with all the foods he brought âdid you leave any food for other people or did you take it all?â you joked seeing the amount of food he got.
he laughed, missing your sarcastic jokes âi didâŚi tried to contained myself but i trained all day with kayden and now iâm starvingâŚâ he joked, not noticing how your body tensed up at the mention of the young woman.
âwe should eat before it gets coldâŚâ you tried to avoid any weird feelings and instead focused on the food since you didnât have lunch.
âuh uhâŚi want a hug firstâŚand a kiss from you amorâ he smirked. how could you say no? you were down bad for him and that hurt more.
you laughed, accepting him with open arms. you felt his head laying over your shoulder and his lips softly kissing your neck âi missed you so much babyâŚâ he murmured softly, leaving more kisses upon your skin until he reached your face.
for a moment you forgot everything that has been happening and melted when his lips gently touched yours. his hands moved to your hips, as he sat down and took your place on the couch, he led you over his lap. your hands moved behind his neck, bringing him closer to your face âhow i missed you babyâŚâ he softly moaned.
you knew you had to stop before that led to something more. he was there for a reason and you wouldnât have slept peacefully if you didnât have your answers âbabyâŚwe should really eat, iâm starvingâ you whispered against his lips, making him smile into the kiss.
âfineâŚbut later that night, iâm eating something elseâ he winked as he let your hips go so you could sit on the couch next to him.
your face blushing. he knew the power he had on you.
as you both ate, he asked you about your day and your week since he didnât see you much. youâve explained him what you were up to and when you asked him about his week, the answer he gave you made you sick.
why was kayden everywhere?
ââŚoh and she made me film probably ten tiktoks just yesterdayâ he laughed but got serious when he turned to look at you and saw your teary eyes âbaby? are you okay?â he got worried.
âdamian are you cheating?â you asked. no coming back now.
he was taken aback by your question. he wasnât cheating so he didnât know why did you get that idea âmi amorâŚwhat?â he turned off the tv so there was nothing distracting you from the conversation you were going to have âpor favor, mirameâŚwhy would you think that?â
you couldnât help but let those tears fall âitâs justâŚyouâre always with herâŚâ
âwith who amor?â
âwith her, kaydenâŚand i feel like iâm not enough for you anymoreâŚâ you didnât mean to sound so weak but even the thought of damian cheating on you was killing you.
ây/n, babyâŚno, why would you think that?â his voice softened as he helped you sitting between his legs ânothingâs going on between me and her, i promise youâŚâ
âsheâs everywhere damianâŚshe took my spot in your car, she took my spot on the couch next to you, she took my spot at dinnerâŚsheâs always there to film tiktoks and then making excuses to stay moreâŚshe started training with you so i had to train alone everytime rhea wasnât availableâŚi just need to know if you donât want me anymore damianâŚâ your voice broken with sobs as more tears fell down âpleaseâŚi deserve to knowâŚi donât wanna go through this all over again, not with youâŚâ you broke down crying even more.
damianâs heart broke. he couldnât believe he was the reason you were crying in his arms. he knew about your ex relationship and he promised you to protect you, to be there for you âhey hermosaâŚshhâŚdonât cry baby, itâs okayâŚâ he whispered trying to calm you down. your head was laying on his shoulder while your tears flew into his t-shirt.
he kept whispering soft words to help you calm down and when your breath slowed again, he gently lifted your head up so he could take a good look at you. his hands went to wipe away all the tears that kept falling and he saw it in your eyes that somehow he broke your trust.
âeveryone think youâre datingâŚi see the comments, i see people saying that you broke up with me and theyâre happy about itâ you spoke up âand if you are dating i need to know, pleaseâŚdonât go behind my back like this, i canât handle it againâŚâ damian never heard you sounding so broken and he hated himself for letting this happen.
âlisten to me amorâŚthereâs nothing, absolutely nothing between me and kaydenâŚwe are just friends and thatâs it, i promise youâ he sounded so serious and you tried your hardest to believe him but due to all your trust issues, you didnât know if what he was saying was true or not âi know youâre hurt right nowâŚi understand and and im so fucking sorryâŚno te imaginas cuanto lo sientoâ he was trying to gain your trust back but he knew it was hard and he had to work for it âi never meant to make you feel like that, i wished i realised it sooner, i wouldnât have let this happen, i promise youâŚâ
a tear fell from his eye. he couldnât stand the idea of losing you. you were everything for him. his first real love, his best friend, his partner in crime. you were his missing piece and he loved you too much to let you go.
âi believe you damianâŚâ you sobbed a little, still trying to slow down your tears âitâs just, i felt so fucking jealous and paranoid this past week. you were constantly with her and everytime i tried to get to you, i felt like i was oversteppingâŚâ
he closed his eyes to stop more tears from falling. he was hating himself for all the pain he caused you âi donât think iâll ever stop apologising for the pain i caused youâŚbut you have every right to know that thereâs nothing between me and herâŚi donât wanna lose you, you mean too much for me.â
you saw how vulnerable he was. you saw how he was trying his best not to break down in front of you âyouâre not gonna lose me damianâŚi love you so muchâŚi should have talked with you about this instead of attacking you of cheating, iâm sorryâŚâ you realised that maybe overreacted but now you relieved.
âitâs okayâŚi should have noticed it sooner, i never meant to ignore you and i promise it will never happen again, te lo juroâ he smiled softly and you nodded, letting your head fall on his shoulder as his hands moved gently on your back, trying to release all the pent up stress you had.
you stayed there for a few minutes before you both continued to eat. you spent the night cuddling on your couch and damian stayed true to his promise as he made love to you all night long, showing you that you were the one he wanted.
not her, you.
âââââââââââ
por favor mirame = please look at me
no te imaginas cuanto lo siento = you canât imagine how sorry i am
te lo juro = i promise you
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Lost in translation
Emily fox x reader
Word count: 3,1k
Warning: a little suggestive at one point (minors DNI)
Summary: A collection of playful arguments between you and Emily about which words are more appropriate, showcasing the differences between British and American English.
Notes: At the moment, Iâm really really into Emily Fox... sheâs just sooooođŽâđ¨đŽâđ¨đŽâđ¨ This is also inspired by those videos of Leah and Emily discussing what different things are called in British english and American english.
You never really considered how different two people could be until you started dating Emily.
The two of you, both football players for Arsenal, have been together for six months now.
Six whole months of discovering that the small nuances between British and American slang could provide endless entertainmentâand confusion.
You wouldnât trade it for anything in the world; every laugh and every misunderstanding served as a reminder of how close youâd grown despite those differences.
Youâd found yourselves lost in translation more than once, but each moment only deepened your connection.
ââ
Itâs the afternoon, and you and Emily are snuggled up on the sofa in your North London flat.
You were immersed in a Netflix binge, the soft glow of the television illuminating the room as the plot thickened on screen
Just as you were getting lost in the storyline, Emilyâs voice broke your focus as she got up. âCan you pause it for a moment? Iâm going to grab some chips.â
You glanced up, your brow furrowing in confusion. âChips? Youâre having chips at this hour?â
Emily shot you a playful look, hands planted firmly on her hips. âYeah, why not? Iâm starving! Plus, I donât see any rules against it!â
âIsnât that a bit early for chips?â you asked, puzzled by her choice to have chips at four in the afternoon.
Emily narrowed her eyes dramatically, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated confusion. âWait, do you really think I mean,like eating fries? Like French fries?â
âWell, of course! You said chips. I just assumed you meant proper chips!â you replied, chuckling at her reaction.
âNo, love, I meantâŚâ She tapped her chin theatrically, pretending to ponder the complexities of British and American cuisine.
âWhat do you Brits call them? Oh! Right! Iâm going to get some crisps,â she said, playfully mimicking your accent with a flourish. âCrisps, like a proper Brit!â
You erupted in laughter, shaking your head at her terrible imitation of your accent. âYou and your Americanisms! Honestly, itâs like you come from a completely different world!â
ââ
Later that week, you and Emily are snuggled up on the sofa in your apartment.
The warm, golden light from the setting sun spills through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room.
Your head rested comfortably on her chest as the two of you lay together, wrapped in each otherâs warmth, savoring the peaceful quiet of the moment.
You're scrolling through your phone, casually browsing social media, when Emily's voice cuts through, her American accent drawing you out of your thoughts.
âHey, let's grab some takeout. I'm starving,â she says, gently rubbing your back up and down.
âTakeout?â you repeated, lifting an eyebrow as you looked up at her. âYou mean takeaway?â
Emily blinked at you, her face scrunching up in that adorable way you had come to love whenever she was confused. âIsnât that what I just said?â
You laughed, shaking your head. âNo, love. Itâs takeaway. âTakeoutâ is what you Americans call it.â
She rolled her eyes but couldnât suppress a grin. âWhatever⌠anyway, how about we order some burgers and fries?â
âYou mean burgers and chips,â you replied with a smirk.
âOkay, donât start againâ she said, feigning exasperation. âItâs fries, baby. I will die on this hill.â
You chuckled and leaned up to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. âWhile youâre dying on your hill of âfriesâ, Iâll be over here enjoying my lovely âchipsâ.â
She let out a soft laugh, planting a quick kiss on your lips. âI guess weâll never agree on that, huh?â
âNot in a million years,â you replied, grinning widely.
ââ
A few days later, you and Emily found yourselves at a cafĂŠ near the Emirates after a morning training session.
Sitting outside, you soaked in the rare London sunshine while Emily sipped on an iced coffee.
You chose a traditional English breakfast tea, the warmth of the beverage contrasting with the cool breeze.
As Emily scanned the menu, her eyes lit up with excitement. âI think Iâll get a biscuit,â she declared, her enthusiasm palpable.
You nearly choked on your tea, the words catching you off guard. âA what?â you asked, bewildered.
âA biscuit!â she repeated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
âBiscuit?!â you echoed incredulously. âLove, they donât serve biscuits here.â
Her frown deepened, clearly confused by your reaction. âWhat do you mean? Itâs right there. Biscuits.â
You followed her finger to the menu, squinting to read the fine print. âOh, those are scones. Not biscuits.â
Emily stared at you, completely flabbergasted. âWait, so what are biscuits to you?â
âBiscuits are, well, theyâre likeâŚâ You struggled to explain, finally settling on, âTheyâre sweet, crumbly things you dip in your tea. Like digestives.â
She blinked, processing your explanation. âDigestives? Thatâs the most unappetizing name for a snack ever.â
âHey, donât knock it till you try it,â you replied defensively, a hint of laughter in your voice. âAnd a scone is more like a⌠pastry. You Americans donât have those?â
âI guess we do,â Emily said, still sounding unconvinced. âAlright, âsconesâ it is then.â
ââ
Another weekend rolled around, and you and Emily decided to spend the day exploring Camden Market.
The vibrant atmosphere buzzed with excitement, and as you strolled through the bustling stalls, Emilyâs arm draped comfortably around your shoulders, you felt a warm sense of belonging.
âI could really go for some candy right now,â Emily said, her eyes sparkling as she spotted a nearby sweets stand.
âYou mean sweets,â you corrected her playfully, earning a playful roll of her eyes.
âI mean candy,â she insisted, her American stubbornness shining through.
You chuckled, tilting your head toward a stand selling fluffy pink cotton candy. âCandy floss, at least?â
Emily laughed, shaking her head. âYou mean cotton candy. You guys make everything sound so proper.â
With a teasing grin, you replied, âDoesnât âflossâ sound way more fun?â
She smirked, a glimmer of affection in her eyes. âOnly you could make floss sound fun.â
You both laughed as you made your way to the stand, picking out a bag of the sugary treat. With the fluffy candy in hand, you strolled through the lively market, the air filled with the scent of delicious food and sweet treats.
As you took turns stealing bites, the sugary taste melted on your tongues, sending delightful bursts of sweetness through your senses. Your fingers brushed against each other with each exchange, igniting a flutter of warmth between you.
ââ
One sunny afternoon, after an intense training session, you and Emily found yourselves in the bustling parking lot, surrounded by teammates packing up and heading home.
âEmily, can you open the boot, please?â you asked, casually tossing your bag over your shoulder.
âThe boot?â she replied, her brow furrowing in confusion as she looked at you.
âYes, Em, the boot,â you insisted, giving her a playful nudge.
âBaby, what the hell is the boot?â she asked, a puzzled expression crossing her face. You searched her eyes, half expecting a grin, but she looked completely serious.
âYou know, the space at the back of the car where you put stuff,â you explained, gesturing toward the rear of the vehicle.
Emily huffed, crossing her arms. âThatâs a trunk!â she declared, marching over to the back of the car.
You joined her, your laughter bubbling to the surface. âThatâs a trunk,â you said, playfully imitating her American accent,putting your bag in the boot.
She shot you a mock glare, clearly unfazed by your teasing.
âA boot is a shoe, not a part of a car,â she countered, shutting the boot with a flourish and turning to face you.
âWhatever,â you said, rolling your eyes dramatically.
Emily smirked and wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer as you wrapped yours around her neck.
She flashed a mischievous smirk, her eyes sparkling with playful intent. âAnd speaking of trunks, you definitely have some junk in the trunk!â she teased, her hand playfully finding its way to your butt, giving it a gentle squeeze.
âEmily!â you exclaimed, quickly taking her hand away from your ass, a mix of surprise and laughter in your voice. âNot here!â You raised an eyebrow at her, genuinely confused. âWhat does that even mean?â
Emily just grinned, leaning in close to plant a soft kiss on your lips, the warmth of the moment washing over you. You couldnât help but smile and kissed her back, the playful banter adding a sweet layer to your day.
ââ
One night,you stood in the kitchen, chopping onions for dinner, the sharp aroma wafting through the air. As you focused on your task, you sensed Emilyâs presence behind you; she wrapped her arms around your waist, her touch warm and comforting. âWhat are you making, baby?â she asked, her voice soft and playful.
âJust a little something for us,â you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a smile. âI thought Iâd surprise you.â
Her grin widened, eyes sparkling with mischief. âYou know, you really donât have to go through all that trouble just to impress me. Iâm already impressed just by being here with you.â
Before you could respond, Emily leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck. The warmth of her lips sent shivers down your spine, and for a moment, you lost your concentration. In that instant, the knife slipped, and a sharp sting cut through your skin.
âOw!â you yelped, quickly pulling your hand back and cradling it instinctively. The onion rolled off the cutting board, and a small but deep cut opened on your finger, causing a few drops of blood to trickle down.
Emilyâs playful demeanor vanished as she turned you around, concern flooding her features. âOh my god! What happened?â She said in a rush, her hands hovering anxiously over your injury. âDo you need to go to the hospital?â
âNo, no, itâs fine!â you assured her, waving your other hand dismissively, though the blood continued to ooze from the cut. âI just need a plaster.â
âA what?â Emily asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
âA plaster!â you repeated, trying to keep your composure as the sting from your finger intensified.
Her face fell as she glanced at your hand, now smeared with blood. âOh! You mean a band-aid?â
âExactly! A plaster is a band-aid!â you argued, slightly exasperated but amused by her reaction.
Emily shook her head, her initial panic giving way to a slight smile as she tried to process it all. âNo, a band-aid is a brand! Itâs like saying âKleenexâ for tissues!â
You raised an eyebrow, unable to help the smile creeping onto your face despite the situation. âSo youâre telling me I have to say âband-aidâ when I clearly meant âplasterâ?â
She rolled her eyes but laughed softly. âWhatever you say, British girl, but Iâm getting you a band-aid.â
As she dashed off to the bathroom, you chuckled softly, shaking your head at how even in a moment of crisis, the two of you could turn a simple mishap into a playful debate, your lighthearted banter lingering in the air.
ââ
You and Emily stood in the parking lot of the grocery store, the sun shining down on the bustling scene around you. You leaned against the car, a playful smirk on your lips as you watched her scroll through her phone, likely checking the grocery list for the hundredth time.
âAlright, letâs grab the trolley!â you called out, feeling a rush of excitement.
Emily paused, her head snapping up as she gave you a confused look. âThe what?â
âThe trolley! You know, the thing we push around the store to put our groceries in,â you explained, waving your hands animatedly.
She narrowed her eyes playfully. âYou mean the cart?â
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across your face. âNo, itâs a trolley! Are you really going to argue with me about this too?â
âAbsolutely,â she replied with a smirk, stepping closer. âItâs just a cart, Y/N.â
You laughed, shaking your head. âWell, trolley sounds much more sophisticated. Imagine if we were royalty! You wouldnât see the Queen pushing a cart around, would you?â
Emily giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. âI can just picture it now: Her Majesty at Tesco, pushing her trolley and loading up on biscuits. Itâs all very regal.â
You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a mock-serious whisper. âAnd donât forget the scones! But wait, are they biscuits or scones?â
âHonestly, I think theyâre both!â she retorted with a grin, nudging your shoulder playfully. âBut letâs not confuse the grocery store staff with royal titles, okay?â
You rolled your eyes dramatically. âCome on! It adds a bit of charm to the mundane shopping experience. Just think about how much more fun it would be.â
âFun? In a grocery store?â she laughed. âYouâre delusional. But fine, Iâll call it a trolley while weâre here.â
You pointed a finger at her, feigning seriousness. âNo cart talk in front of the Queen, got it!â
âExactly!â she replied, biting her lip to suppress a laugh. âBut if anyone asks, Iâm still going to call it a cart. No one can take that away from me!â
âFair enough,â you conceded, chuckling as you reached for the car door. âBut just so you know, every time you say âcart,â a British person cringes.â
âGood thing Iâm an American then!â Emily shot back, sticking her tongue out at you.
ââ
You and Emily sat on the living room floor, with you nestled between her legs, surrounded by an array of toys and vibrant blocks.
The joyful sounds of laughter filled the air as you both watched your niece, Nina, an adorable baby with sparkling wide eyes and a toothless smile, crawl around and explore her little kingdom.
The two of you were enjoying your impromptu babysitting session, exchanging glances filled with love and laughter as the baby babbled happily.
After a while, Ninaâs expression shifted, and you could smell that familiar odor wafting through the air. You chuckled softly, glancing at Emily. âLooks like someone needs a nappy change.â
Emily blinked, her brows furrowing in confusion. âA what change?â
âA nappy!â you repeated, smiling at your niece as she reached for a colorful toy. âYou know, a diaper!â
âWhy on earth would you call it a nappy?â Emily asked, incredulous. âThat sounds ridiculous!â
You couldnât help but laugh at her reaction. âRidiculous? Itâs just what we call it over here! Nappy sounds way cuter than diaper, donât you think?â
Emily shook her head, a playful smirk on her lips. âNo way! Diaper is straightforward and to the point. Nappy just sounds⌠fluffy and weird.â
You stood up, scooping your niece into your arms. âFluffy and weird?No way besides I like ânappyâ because it feels more affectionate.â
Emily rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. âI guess if you like it that much, I can live with it. But it still sounds like youâre trying to dress her for a tea party or something.â
âHey, maybe I will! Nappies and tea parties go hand in hand,â you teased, gently bouncing your niece in your arms.
You set your niece down and knelt beside her, picking up a fresh nappy. âAlright, letâs get this little one sorted out.â You gestured to Emily. âYou ready to help me with the nappy change?â
Emily approached, looking both excited and a little apprehensive. âIâm ready, but Iâm still going to call it a diaper. Youâre going to have to deal with that.â
With a dramatic sigh, you shook your head. âFine, but just know that youâll never win this argument. Nappy is superior.â
As you both got to work, the baby giggled, seemingly enjoying the chaos of the moment.
You looked down at your niece, who clapped her hands, and then back at Emily. âMaybe one day youâll come around to ânappy.ââ
Emily shrugged, playfully rolling her eyes again. âI doubt it, but Iâm willing to humor you⌠for now.â
ââ
You and Emily lay on the bed, the dim lighting casting a warm, intimate glow around you, heightening the sense of anticipation in the air.
You straddled her, your bare torso exposed, and your lips met in a fervent kiss, tongues intertwining passionately. âIâve wanted this all day,â you whispered breathlessly between kisses.
Her hands roamed over your chest, fondling and caressing, eliciting soft moans from you. "You feel amazing," Emily murmured, her voice husky with desire.
As the intensity grew, her hands began to trace a path down your back, sending shivers through your body. "I want to feel every inch of you," she added, her fingers exploring every curve and contour.
Pulling back slightly, you smirked down at Emily, feeling your heart race with anticipation. âHold on, Iâm going to take off my trousers,â you said, your voice sultry and playful as you leaned in closer.
Emilyâs hands traveled down to your ass, squeezing it possessively as a mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. âYou mean your pants,â she teased, her tone light yet charged with heat.
You raised an eyebrow, a laugh escaping your lips. âReally? Youâre going to debate terminology while weâre about to have sex?â you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief as you slipped off your trousers.
Emily laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she reached out for you again, pulling you back on top of her.
With a teasing grin, you captured her lips with yours, feeling the warmth of her body against yours.
Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the playful banter heightening the desire simmering beneath the surface.
ââ
While you generally accommodated the different words Emily used, like saying âapartmentâ instead of âflatâ or âzucchiniâ instead of âcourgette,â there was ONE term you simply couldnât let slide.
âBaby, what do you want to watch ?â Emily asked, casually flipping through the channels with a relaxed ease, clearly in no hurry to settle down.
âI donât know, love; you choose,â you replied from the kitchen, where you were busy finishing up making popcorn. You tossed a pop corn into your mouth just as you heard her next words.
âHow about soccer?â she suggested. In that instant, you nearly choked on the popcorn, coughing violently as you struggled to catch your breath.
Emily jumped up from the couch, rushing to your side and giving you a few supportive taps on the back. âOh my God, are you okay?â
âHere, baby, drink some water!â she exclaimed, quickly grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and handing it to you. You took a long gulp, desperately trying to calm your coughing fit.
As you finally managed to breathe normally again, you exclaimed, âYou tried to kill me!â
âWhat!? I didnât do anything; I was just sitting on the couch!â she protested, her expression a mix of concern and confusion.
âYou did! You called football âsoccer!â Idiot!â you shot back, your eyes wide in disbelief. The look on her face only intensified your frustration.
âYou almost choked to death because of that!â she cried, hands thrown up in exasperation, though you could see a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.
âYes! Itâs called football! Not soccer!â You crossed your arms defiantly, your heart racing from both the choking and the absurdity of the argument.
Emily rolled her eyes, leaning back against the counter with a smirk. âOh, come on! Itâs just a word. Why are you so worked up?â
âBecause itâs a matter of principle!â you insisted, tapping your foot for emphasis. âIf you canât respect the game, whatâs next? Will you start calling basketball âhandball?â â
âOkay, thatâs just ridiculous,â she shot back, unable to contain her laughter. âYouâre being dramatic.â
âDramatic? I think not!â you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exaggerated frustration. âThis is serious business! I might have to reconsider this whole relationship if you canât call it football!â
Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but also a little taken aback. âAre you really going to break up with me over a word?â
âOf course!â you said, pretending to think it over seriously. âIf you keep calling it âsoccer,â how am I supposed to take you seriously? This is not just about the word; itâs about respect!â
She leaned in, her expression teasing yet sincere. âYou know I respect it right? Even if I call it âsoccerâ?â
You let out a dramatic sigh, crossing your arms and turning your gaze away from her. âCalling football âsoccerâ is just disrespectful! Honestly, maybe I need to find someone who actually knows how to call it footballâ
âOh, come on!â Emily said, feigning exasperation.
You stood your ground, trying to hold back the grin that was slowly spreading across your face. âMaybe Iâll consider staying with you... if you can say it properly,â you teased, your voice light but with a hint of challenge.
âFine! Iâll call it football,â she finally relented, rolling her eyes but smiling all the while. âHappy now?â
You turned to her with a mock-serious expression. âVery! But if I hear one more âsoccerâ slip out of your mouthâŚâ
She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around your waist, and looked into your eyes. âThen Iâll make the dishes, laundry, and all other chores for a whole month, how about that?â
âHmm,â you mused, your heart racing at her playful tone. âYouâd better remember that!â
With a playful smile, she pressed her lips to yours, the tension dissolving into laughter as you both sank back onto the couch, feeling grateful for every little difference that made your relationship so uniquely yours.
ââââ
Bonus scene:
As Emily stood in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone while waiting for her plate to heat up in the microwave, you quietly approached her from behind and gave her a firm but gentle slap on the back of her head.
âOw!â she yelped, rubbing the spot as she turned to face you, clearly confused. âWhat was that for?â she asked, her brows furrowed.
You gave her a pointed look. âSaying that I had a fat ass. Junk in the trunk?Really?â you asked, shaking your head in disbelief before turning to walk away.
FIN
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~ đťđđ đŤđđđđđđđđđđ đđ đłđđđ ~
(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC
Part 2 of Betrayal
Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it.
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort
His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.
He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.
"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, a man he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the person he saw.
It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.
Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.
It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.
A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.
Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.
"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."
"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.
"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.
The spymaster didn't answer.
"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"
He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.
His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.
Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.
How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.
"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.
"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my desert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.
Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.
The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.
"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."
In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.
These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.
Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.
Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew it wasn't that. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.
He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.
Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.
After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days.
He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.
He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.
He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.
Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.
The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place deserving of her, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.
The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.
Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it preserved.
It had been a show of good will, Adelaide had been head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. The two had met to have academic conversations at least once every few months for decades.
But as Azriel looked down at her, it felt like a cruel punishment from Helion.
6 months later, she was still as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her, and she was still just as dead.
This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.
Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.
Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed their by Mor.
On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.
Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?
Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.
The Walking Dead
A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?
The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.
It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.
The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.
A spell.
He almost dropped the book at the realization.
No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.
He knew what he needed to do.
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Hello! đđž Your knight!Ghost and Princess!reader was so fun to read・â :ďžâ (â ;â ´â âŠâ `â ;â )ďžâ :â ・
If you feel like it, Could you do a continuation? Like where ghost escorts her through the village because she kept complaining about it( and maybe they do something semi-public, like in the carriage or any alleyway)
Or maybe something risky in the palace, or just furthering their escapades in her bedroomJust some ideas!
I write too, so I get if you're not inspired by this or if you are and it takes a while lol
just hope it sparked some ideas(â *â Ëâ ︜â Ëâ *â )â .â ・â *â âĄ
All of them did thx sm đđžđđ I made this story a lot deeper than it was đ
đ
long story incoming
Part 1 is right here, but it's not required to read this tho
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The Truth
Ghost Riley x Black Fem Reader Angsty Smut
MDNI, Virgin!Reader, Princess!Reader, Black Knight!Ghost
CW: a lil angsty corruption kink??, semi-public smashing (castle library), afab parts, talking through it, fingering, riding
Word Count: 2525 (give or take)
Even after Ghost touched her in the bathtub, the Princess was still hellbent on seeing the fountain near the village entrance or the village in general, and not just from her balcony. The Black Knight wasnât verbally rejecting her request anymore, opting to stand there with folded arms and cold eyes.
"What the hell is so special about that damn fountain, anyway?"
âI don't know! Iâve seen people throw coins into it after making a wish and I have to try it! Itâs unfair!â
"Whatâs unfair is you being so hellbent on getting yourself killed. Are you in denial at how dangerous your town is?â
âUgh, now you sound like my father; it's our village, why would my people want to hurt me?â
He raised his eyebrows as his eyes widened.
"You...think... the people in this village actually care about you?"
âUm, of course they do.â She laughs, backing up, âDid you forget Iâm the princess? They may not know me to love me, but they surely care.â
"Oh they care alrightâ they care how easy youâll be to rob... or worse.â
âOh please, Simon, thatâs a bit dramatic.â
âThe moment you walk out there unprotected, they'd rip you apart. Just be thankful you havenât been caught by anyone out there when you sneak out."
âI don't believe that...â
"You don't believe it?"
âNo.â
âJesus, your fatherâs a worse King than I thought. Makes sense heâs an even worse father.â
âHey! He may be a pain, but watch your tongue.â
âIâll watch my tone when he goes back in time and tells his daughter what people do when theyâre desperate, especially the people in this town. Because I can tell you holding people for ransom, robbing and even killing is never off the tableâ they might even do it for fun.â
âSimon, stop!â
He laughs, âYou know what, Iâll teach you myself. Maybe thereâs a book in the library on betrayal and human nature.â
âYou mean any book in there that I somehow haven't read a thousand times?â
âLetâs go, it'll give you something to do besides complain and piss me off all night."
Ghost steps out of the way to reveal the door across her room, gesturing for her to take the lead, allowing (Y/n) to lead. Once in the library, the Princess walked through the biology books, calling out everyone that sheâd read alreadyâ and she was right, it was most if not all. They then moved to the history book aisle, her fingers skimming past all the books' spines while her guard followed close behind silently, watching.
âFind anything yet?â
She groans, turning to face him. âOf course not, maybe because I read all these already! Ugh, besides some of them are missing.â
Ghost raised an eyebrow, âWhat do you mean missing?â
âThese books have been lost for forever, I think.â
âAnd nobody has tried to look for them?"
âI don't know, my father told me they went missing around the time he became King.â
âAround? Lost? What could've possibly happened to these books for them to just disappear?"
âI don't know, perhaps they were lost in the move...â
He almost laughs, "Lost in the move?"
âDonât laugh! Heâs not of royal blood, he was elected in by the old King before he passed!â
âOh, I know; the biggest news in the land was when a common blacksmith took his place.â
âSimonââÂ
âBut youâve never seen a bookstore, so you wouldnât know that most books donât look like...â He gestures to the golden spines on the shelves, â...This. So a common blacksmith couldnât have bought them.âÂ
âI... I-I donât know! I never really noticed or thought about until now... I was too young and theyâre just books so I never asked again...â
"Good, you're learning.â
âWhy would he hide books...?â
Ghost crossed his arms, giving (Y/n) a look as if it were a rhetorical question.
"Do you really have to ask? There is a reason he keeps you in this castle, isolated and dumb like this."
She blinks, â...Because I'm young...?â
âBecause your father knows what those villagers are capable of."
âBut all the times I snuck out, the few people I met were nice... They had to have known, the only I don't wear is my jewelry.â
"Whyâs that?â
âIn case something falls off while I'm sneaking out and leaves evidence to my routes...â
He chuckled, "You may be craftier than I initially thought."
âI'm naĂŻve, not stupid.â
The Princess starts to walk to the bookkeeperâs desk to see if the books are over there, impressing Ghost with her newfound determination. She climbs over the desk and crouches under to look for the books and to her surprise, there is a stack of missing books sitting right where the bookkeeper would be standing. She gasps and grabs them, standing back up to place the 10 books on the desk for Ghost to see while she reads off the titles.
âSo, she...â (Y/n) trails off, âThe bookkeeper knew about this too...â
"Do you trust her?â
âI trust all the staff... at least I did.â The Princess gasps, âThat's why he hired you to watch meâ cuz a Black Knight wouldn't be as lenient with me as a palace guard.â
He smiled and uncrossed his arms. "You're catching on, Princess. Well done."
âShould I read them...? I feel like it maybe too much information, especially in one night.â
âI could give you a summary of what might be in those books.â
âWhat, then tell me!â
"Do you really want to hear my thoughts, Princess?â
âYes, all of them, everything.âÂ
âYou aren't going to like it.â
âThatâs probably why it was hidden from me, isnât it?â
The Princess carefully jumps back over the desk and adjusts her nightgown before walking over to the lounging area of the library, causing a sly smirk to slowly form on his lips somewhat amused by her eagerness. She sat on the couch closest to the fireplace while Ghost stood in front of the couch opposite of her, silently gathering his thoughts before walking closer to (Y/n)âs sitting form.
"Your people are not kind." His boots thumped as he walked closer, âYou're smart to sneak out at night because not only will the guards bring you back, but your townspeople are some of the most aggressive, opportunistic people I've ever encountered."
(Y/n)âs smile fades, eyes widening as they search his eyes for any sign of a joke.
"Maybe it was the King before your father or the one before that, but your father has yet to try to do anything about it.â
âWell, heââÂ
âAnd he won't." He knelt before the couch and looked her straight in the eyes, "And you know how I know?"
She swallows thickly, shaking her head. Ghost leans closer, his hands gripping the arm of the couch as he leans forward.
"Because in the time he became king to right this second, he had a goddamn daughter that's now 20 years old.â
Her jaw dropped with a sharp inhale. Her eyes slowly drifted to the floor where he was crouching, heart panging as a sick feeling of guilt bubbled in the pit of her stomach.
âHe had over 2 decades to do something about the people in this townâ but didn't. And now here you are, sitting in this palace not knowing a goddamn thing about the place you're meant to rule.â
âHe wouldnât, heâs just... He....â
âNow, I don't blame you, how could I? You're the only one who's in the dark about all this because he doesn't want his âprecious daughterâ hurt.â
âSee? He cares... about me at least...âÂ
âAnd I donât doubt he was going to keep this from you until you became Queen to make it your burden."
âWhat, no... My fatherââ
âPlanned on teaching you nothing before shoving you into your new position? That's why I hate him-- that's why I could give a damn about consequences, âcuz there are none. Not even for touching his daughter in her bathtub."
(Y/n) gasps, looking back up with wide eyes and a burning face, the sight forcing an amused smirk to appear under the Black Knightâs mask.
"Oh don't look so horrified.â He rested his hand on her thigh, caressing the inside just like he did in the bath, âRemember, you tried to seduce me first."
Her thighs tremble, closing under the blue silk of the sleeping gown, âThen you already got your revenge; you don't have to taunt like this.â
"I'm not taunting you, Princess. Merely telling you all my thoughts, just like you asked. And IÂ do so enjoy how easy it is to get a rise out of you.â
He continued to rub his hand along her inner thigh, a sly smile under that skull mask of his.
She scoffs, âBut when I do so, it's wrong...â
"You need to be careful how you go about things, Princess.â
âOh is that so?â
âYes. For example, your method of 'accidentally' forgetting your towel is a very subtle tactic and if I was one of your stupid palace guards, I would've fallen for it. But mine...â He suddenly gripped her thigh firmly and separated it from the other, making her gasp, âIs much more direct.â
âThen.... You should teach me more...â
He chuckled softly and shook his head, his hand started to slowly slide further up her thigh, âAnd what makes you think I'd be willing to teach you a goddamn things like this?â
âBecause you're the only one that's taught me anything.â
He paused for a second to think.Â
"Put your legs on my shoulders and lean back."
âR-Right now?â
âNo time like present. Especially, weâre less likely to get found.â
Looking down at him, the Princess slowly leans back on the couch and places the soles of her feet on him, the chill of his armored shoulders making her shiver. He smiled under his mask as his hand slipped under her gown to trace small circles on the inside of her thighs. He slowly lifted the silk over his head and pulled her hips closer to the edge of the couch cushions until he was sure she couldn't see his face before finally tugging his mask under his chin. She gasps when he tugs her underwear to the side before gripping the armrest of the couch at the feeling of his warm, plump lips wrapping around her tiny bud.
Ghostâs tongue gently caresses sensitive clit in circles in a way her fingers have never done. She looked down at her dress where his head was with a slack jaw in shock at his ability to make her feel this good already. His fingers were one thing but this was another. Every lick and swirl of his tongue was another whine or squirm from her, causing Ghost to grip her thighs even firmer.
âO-Oh my gods... How are you...?â
âHush... Shh...â His voice was muffled, his mouth refusing to stop, âJust feel...â
âBut itâs too good... I donât know what to do...â
She could feel her smirk against her folds before sucking harder until her legs tremble as they try to close around his head. Try. He closes his eyes as he angles her hips upward to be able to push his tongue inside, slurping and flicking her insides with soft grunts from under her sleeping gown. (Y/n)âs hips buck and stutter until she finally cums with a yelp of his name.
He retracts his tongue from her and watches her cunt pulse while listening to her pants and gasps from inside the silk. He then drags his tongue across her folds one last time, cleaning off her excess slick before pulling his mask back up and standing up to nonchalantly sit next to her quivering body. She pants, turning her head to aim her glassy eyes at him.Â
âWh-what now?â
âNow...â He slowly undoes his belt, âYouâre gonna sit on my lap and give yourself some pleasure.â
âBut I thought the man was supposed to be on top of the woman.â
Ghost chuckles, âThatâs one way of doing it. But I donât wanna be too rough on you for your first time so Iâll let you take over. So câmon, youâre wet enough.â
(Y/n)âs eyes widen as his hand reaches into his pants and pulls out his hard cock, letting it stand erect from his pants. She takes a deep breath.
âSo thatâs why you...â
âAte you out? Part of the reason; itâs also just a way to get you even more turned on.â
The Princess slowly climbs onto Ghostâs lap and straddles him while holding his shoulders to keep her soaking wet cunt hovered above his tip. His chin was angled up, observing how her nervous gaze looked all around, seemingly worried about his size so the knight softly grabbed her hips to get her attention.
âOi.â
âY-yeah?â
âRelax... Remember, youâre in control and Iâm right here.â
With that notion, she slowly lowered herself onto him, biting her lip to keep her discomforting groans from echoing in the library. Her fingers dug into the metal of his shoulder armor as her body adjusted to himâ the slick from her earlier orgasm helping like he said it would and more than she thought. Her face contorted in displeasure, her eyes shut tight from every inch but suddenly fly open when his cockhead hits something inside herâ something his fingers and tongue hit, but somehow even better. The Black Knight stifles his laugh with a groan.
âYou felt that huh?â His voice drops to a whisper, âHit it again.â
With the guidance of his hands, the Princess lifts and drops herself on his cock, hitting her spot over and over again and understanding what he meant by giving herself some pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut again as she creates her own slow, steady rhythm up and down on his lap, her ass lightly slapping against his thighs with each drop. Ghost groans, making her open her eyes in time to see his head tilt back on the couch with his own eyes shut.
âAre you alright?â
âNever better....â He pants, âNever fucking better, just keep going.â
âCan I go faster?â
âFuck, please yes.â
Her hands grip his shoulders harder and she bounces faster, whimpering at the way his thick, veiny shaft drags against her walls. His pants come through his mask, making his hands tighten on her hips. The Princess leans forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder to which he pulls her closer, pressing their chests together. His arms wrap around her and his hands hold her ass cheeks to help her bounce faster, their grunts and moans softly echoing off the walls along with the slapping crackling of the fireplace. It wasnât long before her hips started to grind back and forth on his lap to fight off the growing pressure in her body.
âNo, keep going. Thatâs a good thing.â He murmurs, loving the fluttering clenches around his cock, âA great fuckinâ thing, keep doing that âtil youâre done.â
âWhat aboutââ
âIâm the teacher, all you gotta worry about is keeping that pretty voice down.â
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(a/n): sorry its so late loves, I got a cold and then a job lmaođ¤Łđ
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Little Rabbit
Summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. While training with Rhysand, she winnows herself to the Autumn Court by mistake and finds someone she can't seem to get off her mind..
"Just close your eyes and try again." Rhysand told me, sternly. I'm sure he was getting pretty fed up with me and my training. Plus we'd been at this for a good three hours now. "Close your eyes and concentrate."
"That's what I've been doing Rhys! And its not working!" I took a deep breath trying not to lose my temper. "I just end up five feet from where i'm standing."
Winnowing was hard and learning how to use the power was draining. Taking a seat on a near by stump, I wiped away a stay tear that started to roll down my cheek.
"Winnowing is a power not all Fae have. It takes a good deal of concentration and strength. try again Y/N. Try to think of another spot in the woods."
All the woods looked the same. Every tree the same type of maple. Every blade of grass the same shade of green.
I rolled my eyes at Rhys. "I'm not sure why you have so much faith in me winnowing anyway. I'm obviously not that good at it so i'm not sure why it matters so much."
Rhys took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. "Y/n, I know you can do this. Close your eyes and try again. Focus on the tree that Azriel is standing next to."
Az just nodded at me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I always loved being in the woods especially during autumn. All the colors and cool breezes. Soon, in my minds eye, the tree behind the Shadow Singer had vibrant orange leaves and a cool breeze blew my hair. I ripped my eyes open.
"You've got to be kidding me." I whispered in disbelief. I had done it. I had finally winnowed, right into the Autumn Court...
"I knew that asshole was up to something" Rhysand had been trying for the past week to get me to winnow. I hope he's happy now.
"I know you can do it" I mocked my brother in law as I walked through the unfamiliar forest of Autumn. I knew it was a matter of time before Beron's sentries found me. Rhysands "I know you can do it" is probably going to get beheaded or whatever they do to trespassers in this Court.
I heard shuffling in the nearby bushes. I stopped so abruptly I almost fell. "Please don't be a bear or a wolf."
I let out a sigh of relief as a squirrel jetted out of the bush.
"Are you lost little rabbit?"
I whirled around and bumped right into a red haired male.
"Shit." I murmured under my breath, finding it hard to find my voice.
He smirked. "You are far from home. Don't worry. I already informed Rhysand."
I had never met this male before. So how did he know who I was? He took a step around means continued down the path.
"I do have to say that it is pretty impressive that you winnowed this far away from Night. nearly four courts away. Come. We will meet your high lord somewhere safe. Beron has eyes and ears everywhere. Sometimes I fear the creatures are on his side as well."
I ran to catch up with him. "Wait so you aren't going to turn me in?"
He chuckled. "Why would I do that? Hmm?" His amber eyes met mine.
His gaze was intense and nearly took my breath away. "I-it's just that i'm trespassing, correct? I was sure that would be punishable in such a cutthroat Court?"
"Oh, it is. Usually anyway, but I told Beron i'd check out the breech in the border."
We walked for what seemed like forever. Passing by tree after tree, all of them different it seemed, unlike the forest back home. Every tree different shades of Autumn colors. More vibrant than I had ever seen back in the night Court or the human lands for that matter. Before I knew it we had reached a clearing.
"Take my hand" The male told me. "Rhysand waits for you in the clearing."
I gave him a skeptical look, "Ahh. I don't see anything inside the clearing"
"Just trust me." He replied offering me his hand.
"How do I know I can trust you? I don't even know you."
"I would never let any harm come to you, Y/n." I gasped as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his chest. The smell of crackling fire and spice engulfed me as he winnowed us into the clearing.
Rhysand, Feyre and Az appeared before me. Azriel, noting how close the male held me, drew his knife.
"Calm down Shadow Singer, she is unharmed. Aren't you little rabbit?" He asked, bringing my chin up so that my eyes met his again.
Azriel growled. but the male let me go. Taking one more look at his face, I ran into my older sisters arms. "I'm okay. " I assured them.
"Thank you Eris for keeping her safe." Rhys stated.
"It is strange though. That she winnowed so far from home." Eris mused. "Makes one wonder what drew her to a court she had never stepper foot into." With that, he disappeared.
Shocked was an understatement. The male that had saved me was the Heir of Autumn. the male every one talks so much shit about. And all I could think about was how his warm hand felt wrapped around my wrist. How his finger had gently raised my chin, how his amber eyes seemed to darken as they bore into mine.
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since i probably won't finish it...
Max pulled at the clasp of his TAG Heuer Monaco with a lump in his throat. He felt sick. Everyone in the paddock assume it was the Singapore heat, and Max let them think it as he mopped more sweat from his brow. He certainly wasnât built for humidity. His eyes burned and itched, but not from the stagnant air or sweat dripping into his eyes.
Heâd only seen flashes of Daniel since the checkered flag, and each one made Max feel worse than the last. First, the glimpse of him bent over in the cockpit, taking in the moment like it would be his last in a way that made Maxâs heart crush itself. Then the brief look to the screens during interview, where heâd seen Danielâs tears and the fake smile he knew almost as well as his own.
Racing was as exhilarating as it was cruel. Maxâs father taught him early. Doom was always licking at his heels, ready to swallow him when he stumbled. Max feared that Daniel was already lost to the shadowy depths, and heâd been too busy fighting for second fucking place to see it.Â
âMax?â his press officer called through the door to his driver room.Â
âYes, you can come in,â Max replied, still fussing with the clasp on his watch. He was two holes past the biggest notchâthe one from his eighteen year-old wrist.Â
Now, he had a girlfriend. One who knew who he really was and let him be it as long as he didnât make it public. Max had no intention of ever doing that, because he wasnât fucking gay. He wasnât. He was just whatever it meant to be in love with someone who happened to be a man. He didnât like menâonly one. He only loved one.
âDaniel left already,â Maxâs press officer said, still out of breath from her jog across hospitality.
Max blinked. âWhat?â
âHe changed and left.â
Maxâs stomach dropped through the floor.Â
He thought of Niki Lauda, of all people. His dad didnât like Niki. His dad said Niki bet on the wrong horse, that he was an idiot everyone called a genius because he had a stick so far up his ass it talked for him sometimes. Max only spoke to Niki a few times, but one time stood out. One moment, really.
This is the strange thing, Niki said. You send your life so focused on the seconds, then you say goodbye to a friend and never see them again. It will happen when you donât expect itâjust like everything else in this business.
Max cleared his throat. âDid they say where he was going?â
âThe airport. He took his rental to turn it in.â
Max tugged the clasp in place. âReally? Who is he flying with? What charter?â
His press officer frowned. Her hair had curled in the humidity. Heâd never say anything, but it didnât look very good.
âDaniel booked a commercial flight,â she said softly. âHe, um. He wanted the first plane out.â
Maxâs insides twisted up on themselves. He scrambled for his backpack and slung it on. âThanks for the info. Iâm heading out too. Please have travel prep my jetânow.â
A year ago, Christian wouldnât have allowed this. Heâd force Red Bull to pay for a charter before he ever let Daniel fly with normal people. Even in first class, people loved to bother them. Everyone wanted signatures, picturesâthey didnât give a shit how you were feeling or what kind of day you had.Â
He called Daniel as he ran for the car park. The phone rang but Daniel didnât pick up, which meant he was still on land, at least.
Take my plane, he texted. Fuck first class.
The text thread was a barrage of blue. Max hadnât realized how unresponsive Daniel had become since Friday, but he saw it now.
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Black Cat x male hero s/o
Being one of the several superheroes other than Spider-Man residing in New York, it was only a matter of time that s/o had a run in with Felicia Hardy, also known as Black Cat, which he did during one of his patrols.
âOh? And here I was expecting the Spider to swing in and spoil my fun as always.â
She says after encountering s/o on a rooftop after her latest heist.
âWell youâve got me instead, I hope youâre not too disappointed.â
âFar from it. In fact, Iâm liking what Iâm seeing.â
The feline themed cat burglar responds in a flirtatious tone while taking her sweet time eying the hero up.
âReally now? That makes two of us. You know, Iâve always been kind of a cat person.â
He flirts back as Felicia feels her face heat up slightly, much to her slight surprise.
âOh I like you. Now letâs see if you can keep up hero.â
She then flees as s/o does his best to keep up before he eventually loses track of her.
âDarn it! I lost her! She may have gotten away this time, but something tells me Iâll be seeing her again, or at leastâŚ.I hope so.â
Over the next few weeks, s/o and Felica kept running into each other, whether itâs intentional or not, and soon an attraction begins to grow between them.
âI must be out of my mind. How can I be developing feelings for her? Granted sheâs not evil or anything like that, but sheâs still technically a villain, and I shouldnât be thinking about her this way. Oh jeez, what am I gonna do?â
Meanwhile, Felicia is much more accepting of her growing feelings for s/o.
âI havenât felt this way about anyone before, and I can tell he feels the same, so itâs time for this kitty to sink her claws into a certain hero.â
She thinks to herself with a smirk while coming up with a plan.
Later on, Black Cat is met by s/o during another outing (which she planned with the sole intention of catching the heroâs attention) and quickly gets to work.
âWell well well, thereâs my favorite hero, looking as handsome as ever. With how often weâve been seeing each other, you really know how to make a girl feel special. Now itâs my turn to return the favor.â
Before he could react, s/o is pulled into a deep kiss and quickly sinks into it, thus sparking a romantic relationship between him and Felicia.
Despite now being a couple, it took awhile before the two decided to reveal their civilian identities to each other, but when they finally did, it brought them closer as a result.
âSo youâre the man behind the mask huh?â
âYep. My name is s/o.â
âIâm Felicia. Felicia Hardy.â
âFeliciaâŚ.a pretty name for an even prettier face.â
He says as she canât help but blush.
âThanks. Youâre not at all bad yourself handsome. Why, I have to refrain myself from pouncing on you right this second.
Now itâs s/oâs turn to blush.
âGod, I love you Felicia.â
She looks at him in shock before smiling widely.
âI love you too s/o.â
After saying those three special words for the first time, the two share a passionate kiss and embrace.
Now being in a serious relationship, s/o and Black Cat always have each otherâs back despite being a hero and a villain respectively.
Dating a superhero has caused Felicia to gradually become more of a vigilante, helping her boyfriend fight villains if she can.
âWe make a great team donât we?â
âI think so too, and watching my strong handsome boyfriend take down bad guys makes this kitty purr if you know what I mean.â
âI can say the same about you beautiful.â
Even after dating for quite some time, s/o and Felicia never stop flirting with each other, often leading to spontaneous make out sessions.
As far as jealousy goes, there really isnât any to speak of.
S/o and Black Cat are so enamored with each other that they both know thereâs nothing to worry about in terms of other women/men, even taking into consideration Feliciaâs flirty nature.
(If s/o ever did get bothered by his girlfriendâs meaningless flirting, she would definitely tone it down for him.)
Dates with these two can literally be anything, but their favorite thing to do is stay at home (whether it be Feliciaâs apartment or where s/o lives) and watch movies together on the couch.
âThis is nice, after fighting villains all week, itâs safe to say we needed this.â
âYep, especially because I get you all to myself s/o.â
She tells him sweetly while cuddling up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder.
Because both of them are friends with Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, itâs not uncommon for s/o and Felicia to mix things up by having a double date with him and MJ.
âDinner was great as always, but I insist that I split the bill with you Peter.â
âYou sure s/o?â
âOf course! You and MJ were kind enough to invite us to come here with you, so itâs the least I can do to thank you both.â
âWhat a gentleman. You got yourself a good one Felicia.â
Mary Jane tells the white haired girl, who smiles in response.
âThat I do MJ, that I do.â
Should a villain ever seriously injure s/o, theyâll soon face the wrath of a very pissed off Black Cat.
âHurting my man wasnât very bright, so now the claws come out. They say a cat has nine lives, so letâs see how many you have!â
Luckily Spider-Man was there to stop her from doing something sheâd regret.
âCat, you donât wanna do this! Do you think s/o would be ok with what you were about to do?â
Upon hearing the mention of her boyfriend, Felicia calms down a little and focuses on getting s/o some medical attention as Peter deals with the villain.
After s/o fully recovers, Felicia will become slightly clingy for a while.
âThat scumbag was lucky Peter stopped me, because I was this close to using him as my personal scratching post, and let me tell you, this cat has some really sharp claws.â
She says with a pout while holding him tightly to her chest.
âI didnât know my pretty kitty was so protective.â
âWhat can I say? Iâm the type of girl who doesnât appreciate someone messing with whatâs hers.â
âOh so Iâm yours huh?â
He asks her teasingly, making his girlfriend chuckle.
âYep, but you already knew that.â
âTrue, though you know that means your mine right?â
Felicia smirks in response and whispers breathily into her boyfriendâs ear.
âOh believe me, I do. This kitty is all yours s/o.â
And just like that, things proceed to get a bitâŚâŚ.spicy between the two.
Nearly three years after they began dating, s/o decides itâs finally time to pop the question, and he does so after bringing Felicia to the very same rooftop where they first met.
âThis place sure brings back a lot of memories doesnât it?â
âUh-huh, itâs where a certain handsome hero came into my life that I feel in love with. Iâm so happy to have met you that night s/o.â
âI feel the same way Felicia, which is why I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. Felicia Hardy, will you marry me?â
He asks his girlfriend after getting on one knee while showing her an absolutely beautiful ring.
âI was hoping you were gonna do this at some point, because if not, I was gonna propose myself! Yes, of course Iâll marry you s/o!
She pulls him into a passionate kiss after he slips the ring on, the beautiful white haired (former) cat themed thief looking forward to having her hero boyfriend as her hero husband.
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title: hannahâs avery
pairing: avery grambs x jameson hawthorne
synopsis: itâs the anniversary of hannahâs death and avery canât admit to herself that sheâs not okay
warnings: mention of death
a/n: I adored writing this!! should I do more avery x jameson?? bc this is my first fic with those two (crazy right??)
tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket
Avery Kylie Grambs doesnât cry. Itâs been something Iâve told myself my whole life. I didnât come crashing down when problems came my way, I braved them and didnât let them see my pain. Iâve always been a stubborn girl and nothing would stop that.
But sometimes⌠sometimes Hannahâs Avery cried. The little girl in her motherâs arms when the going got tough. She cried and when she did, she wasnât weak, she had her motherâs strength to carry her through. My momâs arms had always been a safe place, she was the only person I could crumble into and fall apart on. She allowed me to be every version of myself. Good or bad.
I hadnât been Hannahâs Avery since the night my mom died but suddenly I found myself as Hannahâs Avery once again on a dull Monday night. And it was more bittersweet than I ever wouldâve thought. I felt a sense of nostalgia, like the girl I used to know was back, the girl I love so dearly that Iâd lost. But there were no arms to sob into this time. And what was Hannahâs Avery without Hannah?
I reluctantly pushed myself up off of the bed Iâd been curled up on for lord knows how long, in an attempt to pull myself together. I walked the bathroom and splashed my face. The icy cold water hit every cell, sending a jolt of shock through me. I needed to stop this nonsense. I wiped my face and breath, staring at someone unrecognisable in the mirror. Hannahâs Avery was long gone, that little girl had died with her mother. Avery Kylie Grambs seemed to be gone too. So who was she? Reflected in the glass? The girl I was looking at wasnât any version of myself. She was new.
I turned away, uncomfortable with the change, the newcomer. I walked back the bedroom, looking up at the ceiling. And as pretty as the pattern was on it, I donât think that was why I was looking up. I slumped down on my bed and ran my fingers through my knotted hair, helplessly tugging out the tangles.
âHeiress?â
There was only one voice like his.
âYeah?â I replied, with a feigned smile.
âAre you okay?â he asked, approaching closer, faster.
His voice was contorted with concern. Why could he tell I wasnât okay? How could he tell? No one can ever tell. They arenât meant to be able to tell. I silently cursed myself for not sticking on my mask well enough tonight, the cracks were beginning to appear and Jameson could see right through them.
âFine,â I replied, not sounding fine at all.
âWhatâs wrong?â he was quick to ask.
âNothing Iâm fine,â I said sharply, meeting his eyes. Big mistake.
âYouâve been crying,â he barely whispered, touching my cheek gently.
His touch was so soft I shuddered and pulled away. I couldnât afford to be vulnerable, I couldnât afford to be manipulated by my feelings, give in so easily. I was stronger than that.
âI donât cry,â I snapped, my voice hard, harsh, unfamiliar. I didnât like the way it sounded, it was so unlike myself, like the girl in the mirror from earlier.
âOh Heiress,â he said, his voice sweet like honey, âeverybody cries.â
I shook my head stubbornly, so paralysed by denial I thought I could still move, ânot me.â
âCome here,â he replied, sitting down on our bed and opening his arms.
âNo, Iâm fine,â I repeated. I could see what he was trying to do. âI donât need comfort, Iâm not upset.â
âI know,â he shrugged, âbut just come here.â
I crawled into his open arms and curled up against his chest. I laid there as he traced the features of my face with a tentative fingertip. Some of my previous emotion began to subside and I began to feel better. It would leave, whatever this was. It would be gone in a minute. Or thatâs what I thought. I was a naive fool. Within seconds of my optimism the left side of my chest physically ached, pulsations of jagged agony rippled through. I fumbled for the words to explain what I was feeling but my mind drew blank. I physically couldnât. I looked up at Jameson, our eyes locked together.
âCall it,â I murmured, an unwanted tremor creeping into my voice.
âWhat?â he asked quietly, stroking my hair.
âCall tahiti,â I whispered, gazing into his large green eyes.
âHeiress,â he said gently, his face mellowing, âI donât have to do that.â
He was right. He couldâve called tahiti the moment he saw my tear-stained cheeks, or sullen face but he didnât. He waited. And even thought it was probably killing him, wracking his brain, ripping his heart from inside out, the word never came near to passing his lips.
âI want you to,â I said, sitting up, âI want you to call it.â
âOkay,â he replied slowly, almost hesitantly. Jameson Hawthorne didnât hesitate. âTahiti.â
I paused for what felt like hours, the words didnât want to come out of my mouth. It was like theyâd been stuck to the sides on my throat with superglue. I hadnât ever admitted this pain out loud. I didnât realise how deep Iâd buried it.
âMy mom,â I whispered, holding in a sob.
I couldnât look into his eyes, I knew I wouldnât be able to hold it together if I did that and I couldnât afford to fall apart for the second time today. Avery Kylie Grambs doesnât do that.
âOh Avery,â Jameson said with softened eyes.
Not Heiress. Avery. The tenderness in his voice melted my heart and all of my insides. And with those two words I knew he immediately understood, I didnât have to say anymore.
I loved him more than anything on this earth, I wanted him, I needed him. But needing someone and letting yourself needing someone are two very different things. But that day finally chose the latter. I fell into him, collapsing in a heap of loud, ugly sobs. Iâd never felt more exposed to my own feelings, so raw with emotion.
âIt hurts,â I choked, coughing up the words that Iâd buried alive in my weighted heart.
âI know, but Iâve got you okay?â he comforted. I could hear his beating heart against my ear, reminding me of how lucky I was. For him, for all of this, for the life I was living. âAnd it wonât hurt forever,â he continued.
âWhat if it does?â I asked, my voice so childlike it ached.
âThen Iâll always be here to hold you,â he whispered, stroking the length of my hair softly, his fingers rhythmically weaving between strands in a calming manor.
And he was. He didnât let go. His grip never wavered. He just held me, all of me. He held Avery Kylie Grambs, Hannahâs Avery and the Heiress. I hid my face into his chest and shed the remnants of my pain, his scent offered me comfort, his touch was warm and familiar.
âI love you Jamie,â I said into him after a while. It was so quiet I didnât know it heâd heard me.
âI love you too Heiress,â he replied with a kiss on the top of my head. Heâd heard me.
He always hears me.
a/n: thanks for reading!! hopefully I got the dynamic right?? anyways this is in honour of our lovely excerpt yesterday đ¤đ¤
ALSO I am very aware that I promise PART 4 of the mysterious blonde would be the next fic up but I had this random idea and I needed to write it!! and the mysterious blonde pt4 is a much longer fic than this oneâŚ
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Oohhhh! I luv your fics on Black Myth!
You think you can write a romantic-sad drabble on Wukong and his lover Lady Bone Dekon?
The little tidbit so sad and such starcross lovers situation!
When he smacked down the rice porridge, his first instinct was to kill her on sight. But then, his eyes met the one of the women in front of him, and he knew.Â
No lies can hide from him; every truth is like clear water, but that was truth that he saw was icy as an ocean wave.
Her hair was white, and so was her skin. Like the snow she was, almost a ghost of her former self.Â
Her eyes were now red like the blood that once was in her veins. Lost was her so lovely and natural color.
She was something different, but it was her. After all these years, she was still her.
His precious one, his wife.
Before his master and his brothers could speak, his finger had already cast the immobilized spell on them. He didn't want an audience.
Their eyes met, both of them confused, shocked, and full of emotion that was lost so many times ago.
He embraced her, feeling her cold skin against him. Since when she was so cold? Since his own embrace could not hold her? Or since she abandoned him under the mountain, broken heart, and without her own husband at her side.
Her fragile arms embrace him, skinny from her change during the years, yet so full of love for him.
If It Was a Dream, they hoped that they couldn't wake up so soon.
"My love, what happened to you?" He caressed her gaunted face, her lovely Rosy cheeks lost through the time.
"Wukong...my Wukong... you're free from the Buddha sigyl!" Your eyes fell on his companions, "and you...brought company."
Your voice... It was deeper than he remembered. It felt different... strange.
"My love, they are my master and brothers! The monkey had freed me from the mountain! So I can accompany him to India and fetch the scriptures!"
"The... scriptures?... Wukong, are you helping the same Buddha that had imprisoned you?!"
"My dear, Is for the best. It was the only way for me to get free!"
"Oh...i see..." He smiled, ready to free his friends to let You met them. "You're planning to eat the monk too, right?"
He stopped; his eyes darted from them to her face. A dark grin crossed her face, like a wound that still bleaded. Her eyes full of malice, her tongue licking her lips, observing the pilgrims.
"In that case, please share hisbflesh with me. Some can be immortal again."
He tried to look closer to see the illusion. He tried to look and find the lie that used your face and voice to manipulate him against the Tang monk. But it was the hurtful truth. She was her, and she was asking him to eat his breakfast.
His wife was fully a demon.
"You won't deny it this from me, Ri-"
"Stay back."
He barked, his voice flat yet so scarily strong. It made her stumble a little. But when she didn't back down and raise her hand over the others, his staff echoed on the ground, a wave that shocked her and everything around.
"I say back!"
She looked at him. Why? Why asking her to stop? Wasn't he the first one that wanted immortality with all his being? Why stop her? Then a closer look on his head...
"Who bound you? Who put you in chain?"
"..." He didn't respond, but it was clear who was responsible for this.
"He did it? He made you his slave?!"
"I am his disciple."
"It's not important the name! If they chain you, who cares about if you follow or you're forced! ...did he hurt... you?"
Of course he did. The Golden Rod was made for that, and she knew. The hairy became suddenly cold, the life from the ground drained, plants started to rot, and water became ice.
"Gave him to me... so I can pay him back."
His staff was now towards her, his body in a fighting pose.
"You won't hurt my master!" Please, my love, stand back. Don't force me to do this." His voice cracked; he couldn't do this. Not to her.
But she didn't move.
"Would you hurt your wife? You choose them over me?!"
"I will if I must! ...PLEASE...I beg you! Stand down!"
"..."
A moment of silence fell against the two. Was this really your destiny? To be one soul and the force to fight over a mortal that had bound him against his own will? In her vision, killing the monk was justice, but for him. She sighed.
"I'm sorry, darling," her Wicked grin reappeared. "It's for your own good."
///
The paper felt like iron in your hand. The tea was now cold in your cup, and the princess looked at your expression, meditating your words forward.
"He did kill her."
"In some way, yes..."
"Why are you showing me this then?"
She stands, purring herself some more of the tea, still warm from the embers under the teapot.
"I told you, She was my apprentice. An incredibile student...but she has fallen, so deep in her own misery to turn into a monster. Love can make incredible miracles...and curses." She turned towards you, her eyes trying to conceal her worries. "If the Destined One is bound to Wukong...my fear...if she comes back as well."
"And if she's come back...what do you expect me to do?"
"...to be ready at least."
///
"My oh my...such a nice specimen..."
On the surface of the frozen water is a mirror for the demon, the image of the BiĂĄn huĂĄ. Such an interesting one she was... but she was more intrigued by her companion.
He was...hisbspitting image. Full in his old glory, perfect like she remembered.
Did he have his best memories? Did he remember the love Wukong once felt for her? It didn't matter.
"Soon, my love..." She caressed the reflection of the Destined One, "Soon we'll have what we had lost." Until then, I'll make the right preparation."
"This time, nothing will set us apart."
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Lost in your Love pt 4
Read Part: 1 2 3
Summary: After the day's events Alastor decides to go visit his beloved friend to see if she has any answers.
Vox x Reader, (Alastor x Reader)
âââââââââ âââââââââ
Alastor runs his hands over the panel, fiddling with the switches, his head pulsing. He needs time to think, needs his questions answered. Anyone will do! Of all the thoughts to pass through his mind an idea is finally presented in his head.
Rosie!
Why hadnât he thought of that before?!
With smile on his face Alastor makes his way to the wonderful cannibal town.
The emporium is full as always, the line is out the door, children sinners press their faces on the windows drooling, the women gossip while eating pinky fingers, men are chatting about nothing too interesting.
There among the crowd of people hovering over her was the delightful Rosie.
Alastor made his presence known by letting out a few static sounds.
Roise perks up her head, âAlastor? Oh, Alastor is that you?! My, my where have you been?!â Rosie stands up from her seat making her way over to him, arms ready to hug him. âHave you been eating?! Youâre looking more flimsy than usual dear!â she giggles.
âIâm doing just fine my friend! Iâve just been busy with a new project!â
âWhy thatâs good to hear! Come sit, sit Iâm sure you have much to discuss!â She brings him over to a table.
âIâm afraid I wonât be able to stay to long, I just have some questions, and I was wondering if you may be able to answer them.â
âIâll doing anything I can my friend!â She sits in her chair, sipping her teacup.
Alastor takes a breath while he sits down, âHave you heard from my wife lately?â
Rosie spits out her tea, she begins to cough rapidly, punching her chest, âIâm sorry, but what do you mean your wife?â
âYes, my wife, Y/n, have you spoken to her?â
âWife? Y/n?â Rosie looks confused.
âRosie, please do not play any games with me, Iâve brought Y/n to your emporium many times, you two always swapped books.â
âI know a Y/n, but that Y/n isnât your wife, why I believe I would be the first to know if you had a wife!â
âThen whoâs the Y/n you know?â
âVoxâs wife of course!â
Everything is still.
Still and silent.
Rosie is still talking, but Alastor hears nothing. His hands begin to claw the table. His eyes begin to turn into dials.
âAlastor?â
Vox.
Y/n.
Y/n is Voxâs wife.
Vox is Y/nâs husband.
âAlastor!!â
Alastor jolts up, âIâm sorry my dear, Iâm just a bit surprised, that Y/n is married to vox...â He grits his teeth.
âOf course theyâre married! They were married in life, might as well be married in hell! Oh, and theyâre so cute together, you can definitely tell that Vox loves her.â
He feels like his teeth are about to break with how much heâs smiling.
Married in life?
Alastor and Y/n WERE married in life. Not Vox and Y/n.
âMy dear Rosie, Y/n simply cannot be his wife⌠you know most of all that she is my wife.â
Rosie tilts her head, âNo, she couldnât be your wife, I would remember an such an important detail! Alastor... did you have a bit of crush on Y/n? Its understandable but you canât go after a married woman! That wouldnât be very gentlemanly!â
Alastor runs a hand through his hair, slightly pulling it.
He knew that Vox had feelings for his wife, he just never thought heâd have the guts to take her from him.
But that doesnât explain why Roise doesnât remember Y/n being his wife.
âThank you for answering my questions my dear! Unfortunately, I must be going now!â
âOh, Alastor Iâm sorry if that wasnât what you wanted to hear! Iâm sure youâll find someone someday!â She yells out to him as Alastor leaves the emporium.
Just what in the hell is going on?
âââââââââ âââââââââ
In your bed you lay awake thinking of the dayâs events. The Radio Demon held your hand so gently. Why? Why would the demon look at you with such care? He must be scheming. Your eyes grow tired, and you feel yourself being pulled into a dream.
 A sweet tune of jazz is playing as you dance with your husband, your eyes are shut placing your head on his chest. Heâs swaying you slowly as the tune comes to an end.
âI love you dearest.â
You raise your head to meet his gaze.
âI love you too Alastor.â
You immediately awaken. Â You sit up in your bed, you raise your hand to your face, breathing heavily, feeling sweaty.
Alastor.
Why were you thinking of Alastor so lovingly? Heâs not your husband.
You place your hand to the other side of the bed to find Vox still sleeping. You reach your hand closer to his screen, gently caressing his face. This manâŚ.is your husband.
Yes⌠thatâs right.
Vox is your husband.
That Radio Demon must have put those ideas into your head. Holding you so lovingly, tenderly. It was just a dream⌠did you want to have those feelings for him? No, of course not. You loved your husband.
But the dreamâŚ. it felt so right.
âââââââââ âââââââââ
destinyisastar 2024
Hi everyone!! Uni has been kicking my butt but I'm getting through it, (I just procrastinate a lot, I'm working on it) Also some exciting news Alastor's pilot VA is coming to my local convention, and I might meet him!
Stay tuned for part 5!
wordcount: 855
Taglist: @songbirdpond @diffidentphantom @vxllys @sirens-and-moonflowers @bethanythehazbinfan @martinys-world @quinceylikesanime @sweetsaladpainterranch @killer-nightmare0 @ginny-higgins
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be still my heart â jjk [one]
the one in which you get a sex dream about the grouchy hockey player you work for.
genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst
word count : 4.3k
chapter warnings : strong language, mature, slight smut (because im a tease), readerâs name is Destiny, jungkook is a bit grumpy towards her (she makes him nervous leave my boy alone), fat shaming (not by any of the main characters), oc had daddy issues, mentions of allergy. thatâs about it, please let me know if i missed something.
a/n : here it isssssss drumrolls please because im so excited for this. jungkook as a hockey player??? *deep breaths* enjoy my lovely people. youâre so so loved. asks, reblogs and likes are much appreciated. kisses <3
Ëŕ¨ŕ§â・Ë
âBabe, you know you're not going to win right? Don't be wasting your breath.â Bella challenges.
Youâre sitting on the chair in your office going through the personnel file of the players. Verifying their names with their contact numbers and photographs which, youâre not going to lie, look like mugshots. Jeez, does smiling a little bit cost them? Anyways, once youâre done you close the file and look up at your assistant bickering with her boyfriend. Phone pressed against her ear.Â
You mime hanging up the call and she lifts her index finger, indicating for you to wait. She throws in words like hmmm, yeah, you donât know what youâre saying, yeah i love you too. Once sheâs done, she drops the phone on the glass table in front of you and leans back in her chair.Â
âHe thinks I will let him get away with anything just because I love himâ Â
You chuckle, âWhatâs going on?âÂ
âYou know, Iâve been wanting a cat for so long I even made a pinterest board for that. Last Sunday he surprised me with one and when I told him that I lowkey manifested it, he was not having it. I even showed him the mood board and I NEVER show it to anyone. Evil eye is real.â she all but cries out.Â
Thatâs Bella for you. Highly spiritual and a firm believer of the universe. She claims that everything happens for a reason. Sheâs like a little ball of sunshine. Ever since you joined the Ice Dominatorsâ hockey team as a physical therapist, sheâs been assisting you and you couldnât be more thankful seeing the lack of female workers here. Seriously, there's no other female worker here except yourself and Bella which is so diabolical to you.
And itâs not like the men on the hockey team are a bunch of misogynist jerks. On the contrary, they act like theyâve known you for years. It didn't take you long to feel like home here. They are obedient, friendly and pretty nice. Few of them are married with kids while the rest of them remain single. Theyâre not like a bunch of teenagers, they know what theyâre doing.
Except one, whatâs his name? Jeon Jungkook. You would describe that man as crude and closed off to a pathological degree. You still remember when you asked him to come to your office so you can look at any possible previous injuries, he lied to your fucking face. Claiming he doesnât have any when you could clearly see him hobbling sometimes just a tiny bit when he walked away. Years and years of dedication towards your studies have made you capable enough to catch that it is an old injury.
Despite your better judgment, you blamed it on the fact that his team lost the game that day. Poor guy was having a bad day and took it out on you. Big deal.Â
âEarth to Destinyâ Bella waves a hand close to your face and you shake your head as you look at her.
âLeave the poor man aloneâ You plead and then ask, âAny details about the new player? Iâll have to add it in the fileâÂ
âNot yet, as far as I know theyâre still contemplating the guy named Park Jimin or somethingâ
That gets you real quick. Park Jimin. The name feels like acid on your tongue .The last game being unsatisfactorily resulted in the federation trading one of the players. It was cruel but was done for the better. Bound to happen sooner or later. You had expected it but what you had not expected was you both sharing a same room, sharing the same air.
âAlright then. Weâll cross that bridge when itâsââ
Knock, knock
âMiss Kim, sorry to interrupt but the manager is asking for youâ Taehyungâs head pokes through the door.
You stand, picking up the file and sliding it into the tableside drawer, running a free hand over your scrubs. Bella does the same as she plucks her phone from the table and puts it inside her back pocket.
You look at him. âSure Tae, thank you for informingâ
He flashes you a quick, pretty smile before leaving. Bella turns to you with a worried look on her face.
âWhat do you think it is for?â
You bite your lip. âI have no idea. I wanna say it's about the new player but who knows?â
You hope it is and as unfortunate as it is for you to discuss him, you will have to hold your own. You know better than to be invited into the managerâs office. Though, judging by the temperament of him you would not predict anything. Last time when he called you, it was about Jeon Jerk, asking you to be more serious about your job as if it was your fault the man spared you the necessary details.
The asshole asked YOU to do your job better by virtue of HIS player not being sweet enough to listen. Maybe, there is indeed a misogynistic asshole going around and itâs the manager. No wonder women donât volunteer to work for him.
Since, You love your job âgod knows you wanna keep doing itâ you kept quiet and took every jab he threw at you.
âWait, Do I have time to pray? Should I pray?â sheâs clearly panicking and you pat her on the shoulder.
âJust hope my job is still intactâ you say, warily reaching for your purse. You both head out.
Ëŕ¨ŕ§â・Ë
âMiss Kim, have a seatâ James nods at the chair before him.
Once youâre settled, he continues, âI asked for you to join me here regarding the upcoming game. Care to fill in about the status of injury assessment?"
You clear your throat, âAbsolutely, I was planning on getting on that todayâÂ
âWell, I would love for you to do it soon as you know we have a new player in the team with us nowâ
You jerk, leaning forward. âWe do?â
âYes, and if you can please hurry with the assessment I would be grateful. You can do that right? Not too much of a work for you, eh?âÂ
Someone give him a medal from the way he's trying to hide the venom in his voice.
âSure I canâ you give him a firm nod.Â
James Adams is an entitled, self centered asshole who thinks heâs above everyone else just because of his position. You reckon he does anything for the team besides talking bullshit. He kind of reminds you of your dad who also has the nasty habit of thinking the world of himself.
Youâre all about self love but when that self love turns into chronically demeaning everybody in their close proximity, it boils your blood. This man in front of you is no better than your father. What's that saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.
So you say nothing further and excuse yourself. You would have barfed in his face if you stayed there a second longer. Actually that's not a very bad idea. Bella is standing outside waiting for you as you close the door behind yourself.
âWhat did he say?âÂ
You bark, âBunch of horseshitâÂ
âTypicalâÂ
Ëŕ¨ŕ§â・Ë
JungkookÂ
There is a buzzing noise somewhere around Jungkook. Fuck, his head hurts. He frantically searches for his phone, still not opening his eyes. When he finds it, he slides his thumb on the screen and picks up the call.Â
âDude, how big do you want your coffin to be?â He loves his best friend but right now he would rather be sleeping than listen to him bark in his own ear.Â
He finally squints his eyes open, âWhat the fuck are you talking about?âÂ
âHave you looked at the time?â says Taehyung.
âWhat time- FUCK!!!â he shrieks as he looks at the clock.
Somebody kill him right now. No wait, heâs gonna die either way so why bother. If he didnât scream loud enough before, he does now. He all but jumps off the bed when he sees the blondie on the other side sleeping like she fucking owns it, wearing nothing but a thong. She must have heard him malfunctioning because soon she stirs, groaning as she slowly wakes up like a Disney princess. Who the heck is she and how did she get in here? Then it comes to him.
âPlease Jungkook just take me to your room and fuck me. Show me what those hockey hands are capable of.âÂ
He wants to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Speaking straight from his shoulders, he has made plenty of bad decisions throughout his career and this is not his first time bringing a puck bunny up to his room but it has never come to this. Missing his hockey practice because he was too exhausted to get his sweet ass up and run to the academy.Â
Taehyung screams from the other side of the line, âAre you there? Hello?âÂ
Shit, he forgot he was on a call.Â
âIâll be there soon. Cover for me until then.â With that he presses the red circular button and ends the call with him muttering some curses.
He glances back at the blondie, âWhy are you not gone yet?âÂ
Sheâs looking at him with those fuck me eyes she had last night but right now when heâs well aware of the fact that heâs in hot water, they donât do shit to him. Coach will have his head on a platter today for sure. Honestly, they wouldnât have done shit to him if it was not for the great deal of alcohol last night.
âI thought of you as a morning sex personâ she twirls a strand of hair with her finger, sitting up now. Her tits hang free and he can see his hickeys decorating her chest.
He wants to laugh. Sheâs not even close to his type. His type is the woman in blue scrubs with her brunette hair slicked back in a ponytail. His type is the woman who looks like she could be watching grass grow rather than to look at him. His type is the woman who walks into a room and lights it up. His type is the woman who is too bright for him and his mundane personality, who has a face worth millions. His type is Kim Destiny.Â
âNo need to waste your precious time thinking about me. You can goâÂ
He places his phone back on the table and saunters over to the bathroom, not bothering looking back at her. He has boundaries and he intends to keep it that way.
He quickly goes through his routine of taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, sliding into a pair of sweatpants and the Ice Dominatorâs jersey with his name on the back. Not in that order, of course.
The girl is thankfully gone by the time he finishes. Once heâs done with his coffee he picks up the car keys and a protein bar from the kitchen counter and heads to the academy hoping his limbs remain intact by the time heâs home.
The Academy is bustling as usual with players keeping themselves busy with hockey and their gym sessions. He heads straight for the rink not even bothering to change into the uniform. He needs to see for himself that everybody is still on the ice. Everything comes after that.
Surprisingly, he sees not a single guy when he reaches there. His heartbeat stops.
âHey Pixie, where are the boys? Did they already leave?â he asks the brunette kid who looks like he just saw a ghost. Or itâs just Jungkook who he saw.
He shakes his head, âTheyâre all in the gym. The doc called them earlier, said she had something important to get done with themâÂ
Jungkook gives him a quick thanks and walks towards the gym. What could be so important that she had to call the boys mid practice? Is someone hurt? Is she hurt? His heart leaps in hid throat as he runs. Fuck, please let him be wrong.
The first thing that he sees as he enters the room full of equipment are his teammates. Taehyung and Yoongi are in the corner lifting weights, Namjoon is using the treadmill as he runs on it. The rest of the boys are all scattered around doing their own thing. He still canât find Destiny anywhere but her assistant, Bella, is talking to Namjoon while holding a file so he lets out a sigh, relieved that nobody is in fact hurt and in need of help.Â
âDo you wanna get a tattoo on the peniâ oh look whoâs here. Jeon Jungkook as I live and breathe.â
Taehyung drops the weight on the ground before walking up to him. Heâs dressed in a black tee and sports shorts. The man looks good in everything. Bet heâd look in a sack too.Â
âWhoa!! Why do you look like you wanna kill somebody or wanna get killed? Is everything okay?âÂ
Jungkook lets his face relax, focusing more on the eyebrows which had gone tensed due to his unnecessary anxiety. âYeah, allâs good. The practice ended early?âÂ
âThe practice ended just on time. Itâs you whoâs lateâ he pats my shoulder.Â
He runs his fingers through his hair and walks towards the bench, dropping his bag on it. Taehyung follows him ignoring Yoongi whoâs calling him back for the weightlifting.Â
âDoc wanted to assess our injuries for the last time before our game if youâre curious which, I know you are. Youâre always curious about herâÂ
He winks at Jungkook and he punches him on the chest. Taehyung laughs as he rubs the spot.
âKeep your voice down, will you?âÂ
Bellaâs voice echoes across the room, âJeon, youâre up nextâÂ
He takes out his water bottle, takes a swig and stands. A wince leaves him as he gets a flashback of the last time he had to face her. It didnât go very well and heâs sure she hates him now. He would too. After all, he not only talked to her rudely but also lied through his teeth about his injury. Itâs pretty old so he had not felt the need to mention it.Â
He sees a guy coming out of the office just before heâs about to enter. He has brown hair long enough to reach the nape of his neck. Even from where Jungkookâs standing, he can say the man doesnât reach above his shoulders. Who the fuck is he? Oh wait, he must be the new player that got traded down here. The guy must have sensed him making a hole through his head by the way heâs staring because heâs begins walking towards him with a bright grin.
âHey man, you must be Jeon Jungkook? Heard a lot about you. Iâm Park Jiminâ He holds out his hand, asking Jungkook to shake it and he gives it a firm handshake. Word to the wise : never give someone a weak handshake. His grandfather has been asking him to do that ever since he was 15, said it doesnât leave a strong impression and heâs be lying if he says he was wrong.
He offers Jimin a nod, âNice to meet you. Excited to get on the rink with you.âÂ
He takes his hand back. âOh the feeling is mutual butââ
âJungkook, please join me insideâÂ
Destinyâs voice cuts him off as she looks over to both of them with an eerie expression on her face. Her eyes bounce between them, resting a second longer on Jimin. Does she know him? Do they have a history? Wait, are they a thing? Even if they are, why does it bother him? Jungkook couldnât care less about the pretty physical therapist who wears her blue scrubs like armor and white crocs with strawberries on them.
He gives Jimin another nod and follows her into the office. Although, heâs not sure if a massage table and a stool resting beside it counts as an office. The room which she works in is much better. This one is just for examinations and massage therapy so he guesses it doesnât need that much of an upgrade.
She gestures towards the table, âPlease sitâ
He says nothing and settles himself up, clearing his throat.
âLook I know we got off on the wrong foot last time and it could have gone so much better, but we can still start over right?â
Destiny takes a deep breath, filling her chest with air. Sheâs wearing her hair in a bun today. It sits at the top of her head and some strands are set loose cascading down her face. God, sheâs pretty.
He looks down and back up at her. âSureâ
Her face shows her annoyance with the one word response. He doesn't blame her. He'd be pissed too.
Sheâs quiet for a moment, âWhy donât you tell me about your knee injury to start with?â
âWhat are you talking about?â
She sighs, âYou know what Iâm talking about Jungkook. Please donât make me work for it. Itâs my job to know about your past and present injuries, if any. The manager has already given me crap about itâ
He freezes. His hackles rising and his relaxed face long gone.
âWhat did he say?â
âNothingâ
He levels her with a stern face, âWhat.did.he.say?â
Sheâs not obligated to answer him. Hell, she could just slap him in the face and leave but he needs to know what went down with that son of a bitch. When and if she decides to let him in the details and it turns out something wicked, heâs gonna hunt that man down and make his life miserable.
Much to his surprise, she takes a step back and starts talking. "He called me in his office today and," she halts,
"Well let's just say there were some words thrown around which clearly meant he thinks of me as a feather brained bitch"
He might look unbothered from outside but the indignation inside him could just about burn the whole city down. He tries to keep calm and pries some more.
His jaw clenches. "What else?"
Destiny shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. âJungkook itâs really not that seriouââ
âIt is serious. You work for us, you tolerate our asses and in return if we fail to give you the respect which, you deserve by the way cause itâs the bare minimum, we might as well save everyoneâs time and money by giving all of this up.â
âWhy do you care?â she shakes her head.
He takes a step forward, âBecause youâ Because you work for us, Destiny. You look out for our bodies, our injuries, our fuckups. Is that not enough?â
She barely reaches his shoulders. Itâs cute how she has to crane her neck up in order to look him in the eye. She keeps looking at him for a long minute, searching his face.
âYou think I donât know that? Do you really think I donât have what it takes to ask for my own dignity?â
He takes a long step back. This conversation was as unforeseen as they come. The room gets filled with heavy silence and he can hear Destinyâs heavy breath. He can tell sheâs trying to calm herself as if his words have blindsided her.
Needless to say sheâs a tad bit taken aback. Jungkook would be too if someone who never bothered to speak a word to him and when he did, there was nothing pleasant about his tone suddenly started to care.
But thatâs where sheâs wrong, nothing about his care or concern for her is sudden. He still remembers the day she accidentally drank the almond smoothie Bella brought not knowing the fact that sheâs allergic to it. Sheâd started choking the second it went down her throat. He also remembers how Yoongi injected the epipen against her thigh as she came back to life.
Meanwhile, he stood behind shaking in his goddamn boots. Too scared to let her out of his sight and too pathetic to hold her close. Yeah, heâs not proud of that.
He sighs, âYou know thatâs not what I meantââ
Namjoon walks inside with a hand towel around his neck âDoc, you about done? The boys are being incorrigible over there. If you donât hurry, one of them is gonna call a tattoo artist and get their dick tattooed. Right hereâ
The room falls silent.
âJesusâ she looks over to where the guys are bickering about something, propping her hands on her hips. âYeah, give me a minute.â
âSureâ and with that he walks away.
She picks up a blue file from the stool, not looking at him. Why is she not looking at him?
âIf you donât want to tell me about your injury right now, thatâs fine. Since, I know itâs pretty old and Itâs unlikely that youâre gonna get affected by it in the upcoming games, thereâs no need to worry. However, I would still suggest you be careful. Anything can happen out there and your knee is in a vulnerable position. Donât pick unnecessary fights, donât let the opponent know your weak link.â
She glances at him, dropping the file back to where it was.
âYou can goâ
Without a preamble, he heads outside, passing Taehyung. He hears him cracking a joke about penis tattoos and piercings with his girlfriendâs name on it. Destiny cracks up and Jungkook wonders if she would have done the same, had he been the one cracking the joke. Only, he doesnât crack jokes. Not around her at least. Itâs not like he's some grumpy bastard who wants nothing to do with anybody around him and thinks of him as omniscient.
Thereâs just something about Destiny which puts him at loss of words. Knotting his tongue it in such a way where he canât get an expression out. Only look at her and god, does he look at her. He's not stupid. He knows itâs a crush but sheâs like a mirage to him. Sheâs unreachable, forbidden and so fucking beautiful.
Does he want to make her his? Yes, Is he going to risk his career and hers over it? Absolutely not. So, he makes use of the only right nobody can take away from him. Not even her. Admire her from afar. Fantasize more about tasting her, licking her slender neck and worshipping the ground that she walks on and one day if she lets him, Jungkook will do anything to turn all of that into reality.
He finds Yoongi seated on of the benches, scrolling on his phone.
Facing him, Jungkook speaks in a low voice. "Do you have any idea where James is?"
Ëŕ¨ŕ§â・Ë
Destiny
Never have you ever wanted to run away as much as you did when you saw Jimin in front of yourself, standing all tall and proud. You had wished it to be a dream, wished you just had a nightmare about him joining the same team you happen to work with but reality is a goddamn bitch and it bites hard when it does. He had grown out his hair longer but he still has the same smile, same eyes and the same charm he used on you back then. Park Jimin is a man people donât ever forget once they see him. He has an aura which traps everyone so hard they can never escape. How do you know? You have been a victim yourself.
You meticulously go through the consequences and eventualities of being in the same room as him again. You seeing him everyday and him reminding you of every single detail you have tried so hard forgetting about, the boys finding out about you both and putting you through the wringer or worse, him. The possibilities are endless and you feel the sudden urge to square everything with him.
Contrary to what you had thought, he reacted pretty normally when he saw you as if somebody had already told him about you. You had expected him to get shocked or at the very least pretend to be shocked.
Having said that, he just gave you a single nod as if you're someone he passes by every morning at the park. Are you this forgettable? Are you someone people just brush aside like that? Your fatherâs words echo in your ears like loud drums,
âYou know, nobody will love you if you keep looking like this. Eat lessâ
âGirl, do you ever stop eating? Every time I see you, you're stuffing something in that mouth of yours!!â
âDonât come running back at me when no guy gives a shit about youâ
You were 10 and he was an asshole. He still is.
Thanks to him, you now have a tendency to cook when you're stressed over anything. It brings you comfort and diverts your mind from the excessive overthinking. You would go bald if it puts the voices into silent mode.
After already wasting half of your life speculating what to eat, counting calories and whatnot, you came to the terms that you canât actually operate that way and began eating whatever the fuck you wanted. Yet still, you need to go a long way in order to fully love yourself and your body. It's a journey and you're moving ahead step by step. One day at a time.
One would even say you're hot. You have received compliments from several people over the course of time except you donât have a thigh gap, your arms jiggle and you also happen to have a love handle. You would have adored them if it wasnât for your dad making you feel shitty about having them.
A knock on your door stops you midway as you're kneading the dough. Biscuit runs over to you, jumping on the counter.
âComingâ
The knock comes back again, this time slightly louder.
âOh my god wait Iâm comingâ
The door swings open and you gasp. âMina?â
She passes by you, dragging her suitcase along with her.
âHey bestieâ
You close the door and follow her further into the hall. âWhatâs going on? Whatâs with the suitcase?â
Your best friendâs sudden arrival must have caught you by slight surprise but your cat is rather pleased to see her. Traitor. She starts clawing at her feet excitedly.
âWhat a good girl you are? Yes, you areâ Mina coos at her and then glances up at you from where she has biscuit nestled in her lap,
âI need a place to live for a few days because my shitty boss kept rejecting all my articles and I really wanna bring her something worth the front page. Apparently, writing about the famous coffee shop around the corner and their secret ingredient being maple syrup wasnât good enough.â
You round the counter and continue kneading the dough for your strawberry pie. Itâs not unlikely for Mina to show up unannounced. In fact, she has done that plenty of times but the suitcase was never involved. This one is new.
âSo you decided to barge in here without even asking?â You tease.
She flashes you a dramatic look. âLook at us, Destiny. Arenât we the same girls who giggled about living together after college? With matching slippers and movie marathons?â
âOkay okay you dramatic bitch. How long are you here for?â
Biscuit runs to do her business and she gets up, setting her suitcase to the side.
She sighs, âNot sure. As long as it takes me to come up with a new topic to write aboutâHEYâ why donât I just write on the hockey team you work with? What are they called? IceâŚiceâ
âIce Dominatorsâ you fill in for her.
She slaps her thigh. âThatâs the oneâ
You shrug, âI mean you can, but youâll have to call in on the coach first. He operates everything inside and outside the teamâ
Coach Ian is too nice to turn her request down. Heâs one of the most genuine people in the federation. Maybe this is why the team is so strong and united. He respects every single boy and receives it tenfold. It's a mutual thing.
âShit, How come I didnât think about thatâ she bites her lip, her enthusiasm replaced by nervousness.
âDonât worry. He wonât make you work for it. Ian is as nice as they comeâ you assure.
She takes a deep breath and lets it out. As you watch, she opens your fridge, taking out the box of frozen blueberries and pops one into her mouth.
âDo you want me to give you a hand?â she mumbles while chewing.
You point towards the bathroom, âGo and take a shower, right now. You stinkyâ
You duck the blueberry she throws your way, laughing as you do. Giving your cheek one last kiss, she excuses herself.
Ëŕ¨ŕ§â・Ë
Warm hands roam over your thigh, squeezing them. You muffle your moan with your palm and take every thrust.Â
âYeah, you like that? You like how Iâm pounding into this ass right now?âÂ
You gasp.Â
âSuch a good girlâ he praises.
The man behind you presses a kiss to your naked shoulder as he rasps in your ears, âWere you walking around all day dripping for me?âÂ
He pulls his cock out and thrusts again. You meet him with equal passion and hunger.Â
âTell meâÂ
You nod.Â
âI need your words, DestinyâÂ
You cry out, âYes Oh god, Yes. I wanted you in me so badâÂ
He cups your pussy and rubs your clit with his palm until you're rolling your eyes to the back of your head and squirming. Thrust after thrust he brings you to your sweet release while talking dirty things in your ear. You're about to melt into a puddle of goo. Heâs got you totally at his mercy.Â
âSo beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well huh?âÂ
âAhh it feels so good, right there. Just right there, donât stopâÂ
He bites down your shoulder, âCome for me and let everyone outside hear the name youâre screaming, you dirty whoreâÂ
Your heartbeat picks up as you squeeze him with the tight ring of muscle, orgasm crashing over.Â
âFUCK. Oh my god Jungkook!!â
Your eyes fling open and you sit up so fast your head starts spinning. Everything around you is pitch black. Wait, where am you?Â
Mina is at your side in an instant, âDestiny, are you okay babe?â
You look around and release a sigh of relief. You run your fingers through your hair, ruffling them.Â
âYeah um⌠Iâm fine. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.âÂ
Except it wasnât. It was one hell of a dream where you were getting fucked into oblivion by your player. You're not even going to lie and say that you didnât like it. Câmon you're a woman of needs, itâs just that, him fulfilling those needs was not on the cards for you even if it wasn't real.
You check the time on your phone and wince at the bright light flashing up at you. Itâs 2:45 am and you just had a back breaking sex dream about a man who you want nothing to do with. Who, as beautiful as he is, annoys the hell out of you with those one word replies and grumpy face. An edgy feeling threatens to rise.
Oh god itâs going to be awkward now. Itâs only normal to walk on eggshells around someone people have these sort of dreams about. You have read your fair share of books where the female character gets a sex dream about a man and then they donât talk to each other for the rest of their lives. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch but it might as well not be.
Yeah, you admit you guys donât talk to each other a lot as it is, or are longtime best friends tiptoeing around their feelings, but you're afraid you're gonna have to ignore him forever for the sake of your own sanity.Â
Iâm so fucked. You think.
tags - @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw
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REMEMBER ME
[Jason Todd x reader]
Summary: on one if his nightly patrols he comes to sit on a rooftop where he flicks through memories of himself and Y/N, his love who was gone. Or was she?
Word count: 2830
Warnings: swearing.
Gotham was a dangerous city. Everybody knew that. It was dull, rundown, and full of rambunctious bandits, rogues, lowlifesâcriminals. The worst of the worst lived in Gotham, and not a night went by where there would be peace. Arkham Asylum was where most criminals were sentâthe really bad ones, the ones whose evil ran so deep that they put others in danger for their own twisted fun and games.
Above the city, on the ledge of a towering building, sat a broad-built figure, cloaked in the dim glow of Gothamâs failing streetlights. His head hung low, shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world pressed down on them. In his hands, he held a red metallic faceplate, the familiar mask that had become his symbol. Candy apple-colored eyes, once sharp and intense, now appeared sore and rimmed with a ring of red that circled his waterline. A single tear slipped free, landing on the metal mask with a soft, muted thud. He swiped at it absently, his gloved hand dragging beneath his nose as a quiet sniffle broke the silence.
This was Red Hoodâthe infamous antihero who once ruled Crime Alley and had now begun to roam the streets of Gotham. His armor, designed to withstand the worst Gotham could throw at him, could not protect him from the storm that raged inside. Beneath the mask, the armor, the hardened persona, was Jason Toddâjust a young man, broken, in pain, and utterly lost without the comfort he once had.
A comfort that had been torn away from him.
In the stillness, fragments of the past flooded his mind, scenes that he replayed more often than he'd ever admit. The memories came swiftly, cutting through the cold Gotham night like a knife.
âJason?!â Her voice echoed through his mind first. Soft but clear, like a bell in the fog. He could still picture her walking through the small apartment, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, the way her eyesâthose brilliant Y/E/C eyesâwould light up whenever she saw him. The creak of the door, the soft thud of her footsteps on the floor, and then her calling out again, more playful this time. âBaby?â
He could see it so vividlyâthe way he had turned toward her, his lips quirking up into that half-smile she loved. âY/N/N,â he had replied, his voice warm despite the exhaustion that clung to him.
The duffel bag she carried slipped from her shoulder, landing on the floor with an audible thud, but her attention was entirely on him. He remembered her gaze as it swept over him, lingering on his slouched posture, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch while the other rested on his thigh, just above his knee. Heâd been trying to look casual, like he hadnât been missing her all day, but she could always see through him.
Without a word, her legs had carried her over to him. She stopped right in front of him, her bright eyes soft with affection. Jason had reached out, patting his thigh in invitation, and she had smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else fade away.
âOh, JaybirdâŚâ she had whispered as she climbed into his lap, her body draping across him almost horizontally. His arms had wrapped around her immediately, pulling her in as if he could keep her safe just by holding her close. He had kissed her forehead, once, twice, and then again, a smirk dancing on his lips. âI missed you.â
Her laughter had filled the room, light and melodic. âI think I missed you more, babygirl,â he had murmured, his voice low and full of that teasing affection she loved. His hand had cradled the back of her head, pressing her against his chest, and she had giggled, the sound vibrating against him. Times like that were the best, the moments when they didnât have to hold their guard up, when they didnât have to be vigilantes or fighters or survivors. They could just be Jason and Y/N.
He could still feel the warmth of her body against his, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms, as if the universe had designed them that way. She had been his solace, his peace in a world that was anything but.
But nothing in Gotham lasted forever, and happiness was the most fleeting thing of all.
Jasonâs mind drifted back to the night they met. Y/N had been a rogue back then, laying low, doing her own thing. Heâd caught wind of her while on patrol in his Red Hood gear. A newcomer stirring things up, not quite a villain but not exactly a hero either. She had intrigued him, the way she moved through Gothamâs underworld with purpose and precision. He hadnât expected her to fight back when he finally confronted her.
But she had.
That punch had shattered more than just his maskâit had shattered his assumptions about her. One solid hit had cracked a piece of his faceplate, revealing one of his eyes beneath. For a split second, their gazes had lockedâhis sharp jade eyes meeting hers. The moment had stunned them both. He had felt it then, that electric pull, the raw attraction that surged through him like nothing he had ever experienced. And from that moment on, she had been in his head, under his skin.
And now, she was gone.
His chest tightened as the weight of reality settled back in. Y/N was gone. He had lost her in the cruelest way imaginable, ripped away before he had a chance to say goodbye, before he could protect her one last time.
The memories, once so vibrant, began to blur, and he was left with only the dull ache that accompanied her absence.
A faint sound behind him stirred him from his thoughtsâquick, sharp footsteps slicing through the quiet. Instinctively, Jason tensed, his body reacting before his mind fully caught up. Someone was there.
Jasonâs senses flared the moment the figure lunged at him, a blur of black against the dark skyline. Their impact hit like a freight train, the force of it driving the air from his lungs as they tumbled across the rooftop. His back slammed against the gritty surface, pain rippling through his ribs, but his instincts kicked in before his mind had time to process the shock. He raised his arms just in time to block a swift elbow aimed at his jaw.
The figureâs movements were sharp, surgicalâno wasted motion, every strike aimed to disable or incapacitate. Jasonâs muscles strained as he parried a rapid series of blows, his forearms absorbing the brunt of punches that felt like they were thrown by someone who knew his every move. He countered with a knee strike, but they twisted out of the way, fluid and fast, turning his own momentum against him. His balance faltered for a split second, enough time for his attacker to hook a leg around his and sweep him to the ground again.
âDamn it!â he growled, rolling with the fall, instinctively flipping back to his feet. His breath came in shallow bursts, his heart hammering in his chest. This wasnât just some thug. This personâwhoever they wereâwas fighting with the same ruthlessness, the same precision he used. Every move they made felt familiar, as if he was battling his own reflection.
Jason charged, closing the distance between them with a flurry of punches and a swift roundhouse kick, but the figure met him blow for blow, deflecting each strike with an eerie familiarity. A vicious jab to his ribs sent pain shooting through his side, but he didnât slow down. He couldn't afford to.
They clashed again, their movements a deadly dance of speed and skill. The rooftop echoed with the sharp crack of fists and the scrape of boots against concrete. Jason grabbed his attacker's wrist, yanking them off balance, but the figure twisted with practiced ease, using his grip to pull him into a brutal headbutt. Stars exploded in his vision, and he stumbled back, shaking his head to clear the haze.
This was wrong. All of it was wrong. How could they fight like this? Like him?
He circled warily, his breath ragged, eyes scanning for any opening. The figure mirrored his movements, calm, calculated, as if anticipating his next move. And thatâs when he saw itâa glint of something small and metallic, just beneath the collar of their shirt, briefly visible as they adjusted their stance.
A heart-shaped necklace, swaying slightly as they moved.
Jasonâs focus sharpened, his eyes narrowing on the piece of jewelry. His next strike was deliberate, forcing the figure back just enough for him to see the necklace more clearlyâa silver heart with an engraving, the letter J catching the dim light. His breath hitched, the world slowing around him as the truth slammed into him with a force more powerful than any punch.
His heart stopped.
No. It couldnât be. But that necklaceâhe knew that necklace.
Time seemed to freeze as the figure stepped back, tilting their head ever so slightly, as if sensing his hesitation. Jasonâs fists trembled, uncertainty flooding his veins. His mind raced back to years ago, back to a girl who wore that very necklaceâa girl he thought heâd never see again.
âY/N?â he whispered, the name escaping his lips before he could stop it.
The figure paused, their body still as stone. For a brief second, the chaos of the fight ebbed, and Jason saw it. In the way they held themselves, the way they movedâit wasnât just the fighting style that was familiar. It was her.
âY/N!â he called out, louder now, his voice cracking with equal parts disbelief and hope.
The figure straightened, and with a slow, deliberate motion, reached up to the edge of their mask. Jasonâs breath caught in his throat as gloved fingers peeled away the black mask, revealing a face he thought had been lost to time.
Her eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Her expression was cold, hardened by the years, but the necklace, swinging gently against her chest, told the story neither of them needed to say.
It was her. Y/N.
Jasonâs world tilted on its axis, the rooftop suddenly feeling too small, the night too quiet. The woman he once knewâthe woman he once lovedâwas standing in front of him, and now, she was a weapon pointed right at him.
He could see the hesitation in her posture now. The rigid tension in her shoulders had loosened, her fists no longer clenched for another round. Her breathing was heavy, but not from exertionâno, this was something else. Confusion, maybe. Doubt.
âWho the fuck is Y/N?â she snapped, her voice colder than heâd ever heard it, a sharp edge to her tone. Her gaze pierced through him like she was demanding answers to questions she didnât even know how to ask. But behind that, something flickeredâa hesitation, a crack in her hardened exterior. It was subtle, but Jason caught it, and it twisted the knife in his chest even deeper.
âYou are,â Jason said, his voice raw, barely keeping steady. He took a cautious step toward her, his hands lowered, palms facing her as if he were trying to calm a wild animal. âY/N, itâs me. Jason.â
Her eyes narrowed, and for a second, something sparked behind themâsomething familiar. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a cold, distant stare. She shook her head, taking a step back as if his words were dangerous.
âI donât know who the hell you think I am,â she muttered, her tone biting, âbut Iâm not her.â
The words were like a punch to his gut. Jasonâs heart pounded in his chest as a mix of anger and desperation flared within him. How could she not remember? How could she forget everything they went through? He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath, his mind racing for a way to break through to her.
âYou donât remember me?â Jason asked, his voice softer now, almost pleading. He stepped closer again, his eyes searching her face for any sign, any flicker of recognition. âYou donât remember us?â
She stared at him, her jaw clenched, her eyes flicking over him like she was trying to figure him out. For a moment, her gaze lingered on the way he stood, the subtle shift in his weight, the way he held himself. There was something there, buried deep within her, something that made her hesitate.
âNo,â she finally said, but her voice wavered ever so slightly. âI donât... I donât know you.â
Jasonâs heart broke a little more with each word, but he couldnât stop now. He had to make her remember, had to find a way to bring her back. He took a deep breath, letting the emotions flood through him as he spoke.
âYouâre Y/N.â His voice was steady now, filled with quiet determination. âWe fought together. We survived together. Youâre the one who kept me going when I thought everything was lost. Weââ He swallowed hard, his throat tightening. âWe loved each other, Y/N.â
Her eyes flickered again, this time more noticeably. She looked away for a split second, as if trying to push something away, something clawing at the edges of her mind.
Jasonâs heart pounded harder. There was a crack, a small one, but it was there. He could feel it. She wasnât fighting him anymoreânot like she was before. She couldnât hurt him.
âWhy... Why canât I...â Her voice trailed off, her hand going to her temple, fingers pressing against her head like she was trying to force herself to remember, or maybe trying not to.
Jason moved in closer, his voice soft but filled with urgency. âItâs in there, Y/N. You can feel it, canât you? Thereâs a part of you that knows Iâm telling the truth. You donât want to hurt me. I can see it. I can feel it.â
She looked at him again, her lips parting slightly, confusion swirling in her expression. Her hands trembled for a brief second before she clenched them into fists, shaking her head like she was trying to shake off the weight of his words.
âI... I donât know you!â she insisted, but her voice was weaker now, cracking under the pressure of something she couldnât explain. âI donât know anything!â
Jasonâs chest tightened at the sound of her breaking down, and for a brief moment, he saw the girl he once knewâthe girl beneath the armor and confusion. He couldnât let her slip away. Not again.
In a bold move, he stepped even closer, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of her. His hand hovered near her cheek, hesitating for only a second before he gently placed it against her skin. She flinched but didnât pull away. Her eyes snapped to his, wide and searching.
âY/N,â he whispered, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a touch so familiar it almost hurt him. âYou used to hate it when Iâd call you that when you were mad. Youâd roll your eyes and make that face like you were too good for me. But youâd laugh. You always laughed.â
Her breath hitched, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Her eyes softened for just a heartbeat, her gaze trapped in his.
âJason...â she whispered, barely audible, her voice shaking.
He froze, his heart thudding in his chest. She said his name. He saw it, felt itâa spark. But then, just as quickly as it came, her eyes darkened again, a shadow falling over her face. She jerked away from him, stepping back as if sheâd been burned.
âNo,â she muttered, her voice panicked now. âNo. I canât... I canât be her.â
Jasonâs hand dropped to his side, the moment slipping away, but he didnât give up. He couldnât. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep reaching out to her. âYou are her, Y/N. You can fight it, but you know deep down, youâre her. You just have to remember.â
She shook her head violently, turning away from him, her hands trembling as she clutched her head. âI donât know who I am! I donât know who you are! Leave me alone!â
But Jason wouldnât let her run. He stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. âI wonât. I wonât leave you. Not again. Not like this.â
For a long moment, she didnât move, her back still to him, her breathing ragged. Jason stayed there, waiting, hoping. He knew this fight wasnât overânot with her.
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Uninvited
Choso
Wc. 2501.
Summary: Sweet, utterly down bad Choso finds a pair of your panties falling out of your tote bag that youâd left in the bathroom floor of his apartment. What happens when you return unexpectedly to find him in the most compromising of positions?
Cw. Panty sniffing, masturbation.
âAh, fuck I forgot my bag up at your place.,â you whined and cursed a little at the realization youâd left your bagâwith your phone and clothes up the at the apartment Choso and Yuji shared.
Yuji snorted in response and Megumi raised a brow at your forgetfulness. Youâd spent the majority of the summer with the trio (and occasionally, Yujiâs older brother, Choso) beating the heat in the complexâs ample swimming pool or galavanting around Tokyo on days you all werenât on missions. Being an older, more experienced grade-one sorcerer, the trio had kind of unofficially adopted you as a mentor-turned-friend.
âIâm positive youâre going to have dementia by the time youâre 35.â Yuji joked from his place in the pool, attempting to swim on his back, earning a swift flick to the Adamâs apple from Nobara.
âYouâre one to talk, you dunce.â She spat and Yuji instantly choked, righting himself in the water to throw her a petulant glare and rub a hand over the sore spot where sheâd flicked him. You shook your head at the resulting banter that broke out between the two and snorted at the âplease-god-make-it-stopâ glance Megumi threw in your direction. You snagged Yujiâs beach towel from the off-white deck chair and wrapped it around your middle, giving Megumi a sympathetic mock salute.
âIâll be back!â You called over your shoulder and set off toward the apartment to grab your bagâ and hopefully sneak a bite of whatever Choso had been cooking whenever youâd arrived earlier.
ââââââââââââââââââ
From the moment you had left to the pool with the younger sorcerers, Chosoâs mind was on you, wandering to the way youâd stood so closely to him in the kitchen when youâd first greeted himâ like you always did when youâd visit. You looked out for his little brother after all, so naturally heâd like you too. Maybe more than like. It was a warm, pleasant closeness that bloomed slowly over time, always casual. Always sweet. As he finished up in the kitchen, he allowed himself to think of something heâd shamelessly found himself indulging in as of late when he was alone.
A vision of domestic blissâ a sweet thought of you in the kitchen with him, wearing one of his T-shirts helping him learn to bake some horrendously sinful American recipe you liked to talk about.
Biscuits? Yeah, those.
Those are good. His eyes glazed over as he could practically see you in his T-shirt, smiling sweetly like you always did and talking to him as you sat on the countertop. He knew he was in trouble but he knew better than to jeopardize the friendship youâd built together. So he allowed himself to just stand there, head cocked to the side with his eyes glazed over, daydreaming of the things youâd talk about together sitting on that countertop.
He was so lost his reverie, heâd almost let the soup he had simmering boil over, but he fumbled and caught it just in time before turning the burner off and setting the pot to the side. He figured everyone would be up soon anyway, so might as well leave it out anyway.
His thoughts wandered once more to the way his T-shirt would probably hit just at the middle of your thighs and would ride up revealing the faintest slivers of the plushest parts of your upper thighs. He shivered at the thought.
God, he loved your thighs. Especially the way they looked in that bikini earlier... He cursed himself slightly for being too shy to join you at the pool but he couldnât riskâŚ. That happening. His gaze traveled down to the way his cock hung heavy in his pants, half hard already just thinking about your thighs. Thinking of the way theyâd feel beneath the palms of his hands. The way the tops of them would pleasantly squish and give with every firm squeeze of his hand.
He swallowed thickly at the thought.
That was one physical aspect of his humanity he held immense disdain for. He felt pathetic popping a boner at the mere thought of your body and what made it worse, is lately it had become something that would be impossible to ignore until he relieved himself. Often, the nights you visited ended that way, with him in his bedroom whining and fucking his hand until he made the biggest mess of himself.
But even that wasnât relieving. No.
No.
He needed moreâ something To make himself feel better.
How frustrating.
With a shaky sigh, he made his way to the restroom to grab the new bottle of lotion heâd purchased just for this purpose only to stop in his tracks at the sight of your tote bag on the floor. Your tote bag that had your clothes haphazardly falling out of the bagâ including a pair of skimpy grey, rib knit panties.
Oh.
Chosoâs breath quickened at the litany of impure, very human thoughts running through his mind coupled with an undertone of deep shame that almost made him leave the bathroom and opt to jack himself off with spit instead.
It wouldnât hurt to just look, right? To feel them..
His hands twitched at his sides in the open doorway of the bathroom as he contemplated his actions.
But he couldnât stop himself from wondering as he stared at the skimpy fabric of your pantiesâ how you smelled there. He loved your scent, always lingering for an extra moment when youâd hug him just to breathe deeply and relish the soapy, vanilla vibe you filled his nose withâThe smell of you permeating his soul when you were near. That had to be nirvana.
He gulped down the remainder of his trepidation and decidedly stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door in a hurry and sitting himself down on the closed lid of the commode.
He reached down gingerly to grab the ruddy old tote bag and carefully sifted through its contents as if he were performing the most delicate task. He pulled out your T shirt and instantly brought the soft cotton to his nose, inhaling deeply, a low rumble of pleasure emanating deep from within his chest.
The smell of you was like an instant balm to his nerves, drowning out remaining apprehension he had in his mind. He could always wash everything, making sure you came back up from the pool to a warm meal and fresh-out-the-dryer clothes.
He inhaled greedily again, his cock now aching and his heart bounding in his chest from the excitement of the situation. Heâd never done anything like this before.. but you smelled so good.
Eager for more, and more than a little high from his actions, he reached straight for what heâd really been curious aboutâ the panties. They were surprisingly light and soft between his fingers, the lace trim and rib knit material providing deliciously contrasting sensations against his fingertips. He let out a shuddering breath as he held them up, inspecting them, taking in and imagining the thought of them snug against your hips and ample bottom. Against the space between your legs. It was enough to make his mouth water.
Without thinking about any further, he brought the material to his nose to inhale and he was most definitely not disappointed. His eyes rolled back in his head at the musky, heady scent of you that enveloped him. This felt like an entirely different level of wrong, but he couldnât help himself. He was curious and completely down bad for you, that he couldnât deny.
His breath came in gasps as he practically jerked his pants down to free his rigid cock from the fabricâs confines. He was already practically oozing pre-come from his flushed tip and his hips twitched and rolled of their own accord from excitement, a broken rhythm that demanded him give into his desire. So he did.
Choso bargained with himself that heâd do what he needed to do and rush everything straight to the washer so that youâd have fresh, warm clothes waiting for you by the time you got back. Youâd be none the wiser.
Hopefully.
He spit quickly into the palm of his hand, wanting to waste no time and wrapped his hand around his cock to give himself what he craved. He set the pace, rotating his wrist in a way he knew would bring him to the heights he wanted to reach and crushed your panties against his nose once more, groaning low in his chest as the scent of you overtook him.
Something about adding the smell between your legs to this shameful little routine of his made him feel like a complete mess in no time at all. He was filthy for this but he didnât care. He wanted, no, needed you in any way he could have you.
Your scent pushed him forward in an almost animalistic way, driving the tension in his belly to an almost unbearable level. He never knew he could feel this good by simply smelling you while he did this..
Choso fucked up into his hand aggressively with nothing but you on his mind, his toned abdominals flexing with exertion as he chased his high. He let his head fall back, still holding the fabric of your panties to his nose like a man possessed. His jaw had fallen slack now and a series of desperate, pathetic whimpers fell from his lips as he greedily inhaled you, committing your scent deep into his memory.
Pathetic. He was pathetic.
But so, so close.
A part of him was ready to get this over with, just so he could be in the clear from potentially getting caught so he could wallow in shame in peace but another part of him.. another sick, twisted part of him wanted this moment to never end. He wanted to feel good and he wanted YOU to be what made him feel goodâ even if this was all he could get.
Chosoâs chest heaved and his cock leaked with every bounding pulse of his excitement. The pleasure was building white-hot deep in his belly in a way that was almost overstimulating.. but he couldnât stop. Not yet.
So close.
In a split second moment of filthy desperation and bid for closeness heâd likely never get, he brought his other handâ and your panties down to wrap around the aching head of his cock. A dark splotch quickly bloomed against the grey fabric from where he practically dripped and he pulled his bottom lip through his teeth imagining himself making a mess of those pretty panties while you wore them. Yes. Thatâs what he wanted. He imagined your eyes heavy lidded and you staring down at him, whispering the filthiest things to him as he jerked off against your clothed cunt. He envisioned your hands touching him instead of his, the way your delicate little fingers would wrap around him. If only..
The tension continued to mount until it was unbearable and his breath came in ragged gasps. He almost missed the sound of the front door to the apartment opening and the hurried footsteps that stopped in front of the bathroom door.
Almost.
But he was too far gone to stop himselfâ with one more heave of his chest and jerk of his hips, Chosoâs orgasm barreled through him with an intensity unlike anything heâd ever experienced and he was lost. Ruined.
It was euphoric.
His eyes rolled back and his cock filled your panties (and his hand) with an inhuman amount of sticky cum. Just when heâd think it was over, another thick, pearlescent spurt oozed into the ruined fabric of your panties. He bucked into his hand a few more times in a bid to prolong things, carrying himself through the remaining haze completely oblivious for a split second to the wide eyes that now watched from the open door.
You stood there utterly speechless at the sight before you when youâd opened the door. Your throat went dry as you studied the way Chosoâs hips bucked out the remainder of his orgasm against his hands, the flex of his biceps and abs, the way his head was tilted back and his face contorted into something utterly sinful. The way your panties were now bathed in the most obscene amount of cum youâd ever laid eyes onâ panties youâd been wearing just an hour before.
It was a few seconds that felt as if theyâd stretched an entire eternity. A moment that left you feeling as if you were under water, unable to breathe. If Choso had felt that way about you, heâd never made any indicationâ sure, he was warm toward you, but Choso was that way with everyone he allowed into his inner circle. Ever enigmatic he was, no-nonsense a fair majority of the time in every day life, sprinkled in with that unmistakable softness and warmth in private. Heâd always welcomed you into his home and had become someone you confided in. He was easy to talk to.
Chosoâs eyes fluttered open and locked onto yours, having finally taken notice of you and his stomach instantly dropped at the sight of you in the doorway. He started to say something, to protest but you shut the door before he could call your name, effectively cutting him off. You stood there for a moment wondering what the fuck you had just hallucinatedâ it had to have been a hallucination, right?
Right?
You opened the door again to confirm that you had not been hallucinating. He was still there, your come-soaked panties still in hand staring at you like a deer in the headlights.
Of all the things youâd walked in on Choso doing, it had to be this. It wasnât like you could judge thoughâ in some sick way, you actually kind of understood.
It wasnât like you werenât similar or anything, after all. Like you hadnât hoarded the one T-shirt heâd let you borrow months ago beside your pillow to sniff every night because he just smelled that fucking good. An intoxicating mix of soft earthiness, clean skin and something unmistakably sharp.
Okay, so maybe you really understood. Fuck.
You were interrupted from your brief inner monologue by the sound of Chosoâs voice tentatively calling out your name. His cock had softened enough to be partially obscured by your panties, but the copious mess remained and stood out more against the fabric and his fair skin now that his cock wasnât at attention. In any other circumstance, youâd be impressed with the sheer amount of cum that could come from one man, but all you could think of in the moment was the fact that Chosoâ your friend had pleasured himself with your panties.
âIâll wash them. Iâm sorry. Iâ I couldnât. I just. Iâ.â He started trying to explain himself but you shook your head in response, effectively shutting him up again.
âYou donât owe me an explanation.â You finally managed hoarsely after a few moments of careful consideration, trying with all your might to keep your eyes on his and not the mess between his legs. You opened your mouth to speak again when you were jolted by the sound of the front door abruptly opening and Yujiâs voice calling out your name.
In a split second decision you stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it. Choso looked like he was about to short circuit, sitting there wide eyed thinking of where heâd even begin trying to explain this to Yuji..
âOf course..â You hissed under your breath, knowing that there was only one thing to do. You werenât about to let Choso be found in such a compromising position (and you werenât about to throw him under the bus either) so you turned to him and put a finger to your lips, a silent request to keep quiet.
âIâm in here! My stomach hurtsâŚâ you called out and flicked the bathroom fan on in hopes of muffling any extra noise that may give the two of you away. You back up slightly away from the door and immediately recoil when you step in something wet, your expression screwing up into one of silent panic when you realized what it was.
What a fucking situation to be caught in.
Part 2??
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I love your writing. I genuinely think of it all the time. And I love the mentally unwell buckies, especially ED Gale, because me too kings âđťđ
thank youu <3 gale food issues/ eating disorder is real to me in every universe literally. itâs about the control freakism baby! expect more asp now after superstar gale ed reveal lol also in the au me and @swifty-fox are kicking around the dms he has a severe eating disorder.
meanwhile have a bit of a stalag scene from a wip i fear might be dead but i may have to repurpose this bc gale food issues martyr developing a size kink from starving was smart of me tbh
âYou givinâ your rations away?â John says.
Gale thinks about lying for a moment, but thereâs no point. âSome.â
John stares at him. His eyes are shiny, almost black in the dark. âWhy?â
Gale doesnât give him an answer. None would satisfy John; that there are men that need it more, that Gale has been too distracted to eat, that heâs been hungry so long heâs almost forgotten what it feels like to not be. That it grounds him a little. He shrugs. John looks semi-murderous, and itâs the most tethered expression Galeâs seen him wear in weeks. He takes one of Galeâs wrists in hand, fingers curling all the way around even with the added padding of his gloves.
âYou think this is good?â he says. âYou think this is gonna help the others?â
Gale goes to wrench his wrist from his grip at the same moment that someone below them stirs. They freeze, John holding his pulse-point, fingers tight around him. When the air stills and it sounds like theyâve woken no-one, Gale lets out the breath he was holding.
âYou think this is gonna help anyone?â John says again, a low hiss this time. Gale tries to pull himself free, but John just drags his other arm out from under the thin covers, grasping both of Galeâs wrists in one big hand. âYou like this? If they ask us to march tomorrow, you think youâll get far?â
Galeâs heart is pounding. John wasnât this angry at him when they fought. Has perhaps never been this angry at him, and Gale canât look away from Johnâs hand. Holding both of his wrists like a bird. He knew it was bad. He knew heâd been reckless, too, in his own way. Posturing as selfless and sticking out his bony chest like a big boy, when the truth is heâd lost his appetite, like a girl whoâs been chucked by her sweetheart. He supposes he has felt a little like that, too.
Staring at the difference between them now, Gale finds it hard to catch his breath. Something like hunger finally builds.
John looks at him. Gale sees realisation click in his expression, as his face falls open, curious and wide-eyed. He grips Galeâs wrists tighter, exaggerating the point of how far his fingers can encircle them, and Gale, still staring, groans.
âYou do,â John whispers. âYou like this.â
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This may sound a bit silly, and I apologize if you've gotten this kind of ask before (please feel free to tell me to look for it or link posts if you want; no need for any answer even, there's no pressure), but I think unrecorded deities have been reaching out to me. I'm a bit nervous to reach back because I'm not sure how to verify who they are effectively. I also typically ask the deities I worship for protection, but I feel like that wouldn't be very respectful if the unrecorded deities truly are reaching out, you know? I want to be considerate of the fact that they, themselves, are also deities. Do you have any advice on what I can do to verify them? Do you know of ways to protect myself that wouldn't be seen as disrespectful? If you're unsure, it's totally ok. I appreciate any and all advice you may have, as I've never really encountered this before.
Regardless if you choose to answer, thank you for being here! I love your blog, and whenever I see your posts on my dash, it brings me a smile. Thank you, and take care! c:
Vetting unrecorded entities is very different from vetting recorded ones in my experience, but you can still do it! I've found it to be a much slower, longer process, that you really have to be patient and dedicated for. It's much more about getting to know the entity for who they are as an individual than it is about checking them against known facts. So be prepared to be in for the long haul!
I've written about my methods of vetting entities, both unrecorded and recorded in a couple of places. I have sort of an intro to my process of vetting an unrecorded entity here, it lays out the idea of checking the entity against themselves and looking for internal consistency. I combine this method of getting to know you questions with my note taking methods: Part 1 and Part 2 respectively. By having good notes I can establish that consistency and look for contradictions. Does the entity say something in one visit, and then contradict it the next time I encounter them? To me that's not a reason to cut off contact, but it is something to ask them about. Maybe it's a complicated thing for that entity, maybe there's a story, maybe they're reveling truths bit by bit as they come to trust me. There's a chance they may have lied to me, and I can ask them why.
I'm very willing to hear explanations when I'm getting to know a new spirit, and for things to change as I get to know them. Sometimes they are remembering things about themselves as they are telling it to me. This doesn't apply to an unrecorded entity who is a regular spirit who has just never been written down, like a local nature spirit, or an individual one of the Fair Folk, but I've found that working with the really truly ancient spirits that maybe haven't interacted with a human in very long time can be a bit like talking to someone with dementia. I was started working on returning the Forgotten Ones in the same year that I lost my Pop-Pop to Parkinsons, and communicating to them in the begin was a lot like talking to him at the end. They knew who they were, loosely, but the details were foggy and vague, and would sometimes change a bit from visit to visit, like my Pop-Pop remembering my Nona was the most beautiful girl in the world, but not what her name was.
As for asking for protection I'm going to ask you this. Do you think it's disrespectful to ask the recorded entities and deities that you have relationships with for protection? If asking for blessings and protection is part of your normal way of interacting with a recorded deity I think it would be more disrespectful to an unrecorded one if you treated them differently. I don't really have too much to do with recorded deities anymore, but when I did I always made a point to treat them and the Forgotten Ones the same. It was important to me to show both the Forgotten Ones and the recorded deities that they were equal to me, and that the Forgotten Ones weren't different, lesser, or other in any way because of their unrecorded-ness. They were all just spirits in silly hats.
Personally, to be perfectly frank, I don't like relying on outside forces for protection. I've never been one to ask a deity or spirit for protection, it's too reliant on the benevolence of an external being, which could be revoked if a relationship ever soured. So while I think you could ask an unrecorded deity for it, I wouldn't personally recommend it. I would instead recommend coming up with a self reliant method of protection. I prefer wards on my living space and personal shields built into enchanted jewelry for when I leave my warded space, but there are other methods of protection spells out there. You could probably tweak my "Retreat Into Your Shell" Spell to be more general protection, it's sort of geared at emotional protection as designed, if you wanted to! Would just need to swap the herbs and then design your sigil/symbol for what you want.
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