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cobaltperun · 6 months ago

Note

Hi, I was just wondering if you could do a bottom Tara x top g!p female reader fic?!

where Tara and reader are dating but when sam finds out she forbids reader to come over to their apartment the only time they see each is in college. So T and R are texting 24/7 and one evening things get a little spicy like they start sexting ig sending stuff too each other (if you get what I mean) then Tara decides to sneak out because she's missing reader (vice versa) and goes to reader's apartment and they do it for the first time also could it be soft smut and some aftercare maybe. It's just T and R being gay af!

You don't have to do this btw thanks either way!Bye have a good day/night :)

Rule Breakers

SMUT! Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P Female Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 4.9k

“You are what?!” the scream Sam let out echoed through the apartment making absolutely everyone present, you and Tara included, flinch. This was not the reaction you hoped for, though Tara did warn you it would probably be like this. You had no idea how bad it would get.

“We are dating,” Tara repeated and you could tell by the way she reached out and grabbed your hand that she desperately needed to feel your touch to calm down. How could Sam not see that? See beyond the fact that she herself didn’t know you?

“Absolutely not! Tara you met her what? A month ago?” Sam was not accepting this at all. You could see the fury in her eyes as she looked at you as if you immediately threatened to hurt her sister. You knew what the reason was and you definitely couldn't blame her for it. But it still hurt to see she didn't trust Tara's judgment. Tara was an adult. She went through even more than Sam did and she just wanted to live her life, which included falling in love and dating, and you hoped one day moving in with you so you could build your future together.

Yeah. You were whipped.

“Four months, actually,” Tara rolled her eyes. The two of you met in college on the first day. You sat next to each other and immediately got along and fast forward three months, some time after she had opened up to you about how she was attacked and nearly killed by one of her closest friends, she just asked you out and you accepted it. You definitely developed a crush on her a lot sooner than that, and while that wasn't important at the moment you really believed Tara knew that all along. She just had a way of knowing just how you felt about her, in her own words, you were an open book in her eyes.

“That's not nearly long enough,” Sam pointed the finger at you, the fury in her eyes not fading even slightly.

“Hey, Sam wait!” Tara tried to stop her sister, but it was too late.

“Out right now. If I ever see you close to Tara things will not end well for you,” you had no doubts about just how serious Sam was and you saw Tara’s jaw dropping.

“What the fuck Sam?!” Tara screamed at her sister and quickly turned to you as you got up. “No this isn't what I want!” she jumped to her feet after you and stepped in front of you. “Hey, just listen to me, this isn't what I want,” it hurt you to see her like this, in pain and afraid, and her eyes already filling with tears.

For the first time since you came to the apartment you glared at Sam.

“Come on Sam give it girl a chance,” Chad tried to get her to see reason but a single glare shut him down.

“I will not risk Tara's safety,” Sam would not listen, in fact, she stood up as if to show you the way out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Tara grabbed onto your hand to keep you from leaving, tears were falling down her face.

“I don't want this, please,” her hands trembled as she said that and for a moment you stopped glaring at Sam.

Your eyes softened and you gently brushed the tears off Tara’s face. “I know you,” whispered and leaned down to kiss her, Sam be damned. Tara relaxed into the kiss, realizing you weren’t going to leave her, and she kissed your back and poured all of her love into that one single kiss. When you separated you turned to Sam returning her glare without flinching for a single moment.

Sam was intimidating there was no doubt about it, but this was a lot more important. “You can try all you want, Sam, you will not scare me away. Got it? Drop the protective big sister bullshit because no one gets to make my girlfriend cry. Not even you,” the temperature in the room dropped when you said that and you could tell everyone just got on the verge of running away and you could not blame them.

Sam looked even more furious, she looked ready to spit fire and rain hell upon you, but you stood your ground. And to make your defiance even more clear you stepped around Tara and faced her sister head on with nothing blocking her path.

Sam remained silent for now, just glaring at you and you nodded, feeling like this ended about as well as it could. “Glad that's clear, I’ll see you later Sam,” you made your point clear, there was no reason to stick around because hanging out with Tara at this point, in this situation and in their apartment wouldn’t do any good for anyone, you and Tara especially.

~X~

She absolutely won the lottery. She would never try to even purchase a ticket because all her luck was just spent on getting the most amazing, badass girlfriends she could ever hope for. Did the way you talked back to Sam make her wet? Yes, yes it did.

Would she have gone to her room to handle that if everyone else still wasn’t at the apartment? Yes, she would have.

Would she do it tonight? Absolutely.

~X~

After what happened last week you and Tara kept seeing each other only at college, and that, more often than not, led to both of you just ditching the classes and getting coffee and croissants from a local bakery you both loved to visit. You did not expect that single decision to haunt you for the rest of the week. You both thought you were just that slick about it as you skipped several classes over the past week just so you spend time together and act like an actual couple instead of two people hiding from the world.

The world in this case being Tara's sister.

If Tara started failing classes because of her absence, well, that would be entirely on Sam.

~X~

Tara should have seen the trouble coming from a mile away. She just had too much fun today, walking with you in the park, grabbing breakfast, you even managed to catch a movie, and it was actually a good one! And to make things even better Tara couldn't keep her hand away from your own, constantly holding it as you went from one place to another.

And then the world just turned against her. She opened the doors and saw Sam expecting her with a stern look on her face, and arms crossed, sitting at the table in the kitchen.

She was in so much trouble.

“You were with her, weren't you?” well she couldn't exactly confess, so she would at least try to deny it. What were the chances that Sam had an actual proof Tara skipped classes with you?

“We were catching up on some lesson we missed, so classes got extended,” Tara lied a bit easier than she thought she would, but she figured the habits she picked up on while she was living with her mother were difficult to get rid of.

“Do not lie to me, Tara!” she flinched at Sam’s shout. “I went to pick you up and you weren't there. And when I asked your classmates if you even came to the classes, they told me neither of you showed up today!” Tara was caught pretty much red-handed and Sam knew it.

Tara sighed and sat down across the table. “You can't expect me to break up with her, Sam. I love her!” she was getting frustrated by Sam's behavior. Why couldn't her sister just let her go, just let her live her own life.

“Tara, you don't love her, you don't even know her properly! She could be dangerous,” this paranoia had to stop, because Sam saw everyone that tried to approach Tara as an enemy, as someone Tara needed protection from.

“Sam do you hear yourself?” Tara couldn’t deal with it anymore. “We are living with Quinn and she keeps bringing random guys to the apartment! Any one of them could be as psycho that just gets up one night and kills all three of us. You don't know those guys, yet you let Quinn bring them along!” Terra pointed out, exasperated by Sam not being able to see logic in her words, more importantly she was furious because Sam wouldn't trust her judgment.

She knew you. She had complete trust in you. And she got betrayed in a worse way than Sam did, after all while Richie was Sam’s boyfriend, Amber has been Tara’s friend for over a decade by that point.

“That isn't how Ghostface works and you know that,” Sam argued back. Ghostface this, Ghostface that. Tara was getting sick of it.

How could Sam not see it? “Ghostface isn't the only psycho, Sam! I can't live my life fearing that anyone I meet is going to turn out to be a psychotic killer. I want to live Sam, I fell in love and I want to enjoy that! I want to be with Y/N!” she desperately hoped Sam would just for once listen to her.

Yet Sam acted like a broken record. “We don't know her,” and Tara knew it wouldn’t matter how long you spent trying to get Sam’s trust. Sam would never know you ‘well enough’, Sam wouldn’t even try to get to know you.

“So what? I'm just supposed to fall in love with Chad? Because who else is left?” Tara demanded, but she might as well be talking in an entirely different language.

“This conversation is over, you’re grounded for a week,” Sam stood up and stormed into her room, leaving utterly flabbergasted Tara alone.

What a great way to spend the week off from classes.

~X~

Five days, that’s how long this torture’s been going on and Tara felt like she was about to lose her mind. And she was supposed to last an entire week?! The remaining two days felt like they would never end because each day seemed to drag out more than the previous one, even witconstant texting between the two of you. She turned in her bed for what felt like the hundredth time and her bed showed it. Messy twisted blanket, crumpled sheets, her head resting only on the corner of her pillow as she once again got on her back and stared at the ceiling. Sam was being unfair. Mindy had Anika, her and Sam were living with Quinn, who they didn’t know beforehand, and Tara was sure Sam had something going on with that Danny guy, and Chad was also occasionally flirting with girls! She was the only one who couldn’t have what she wanted.

Her phone buzzed and she immediately scrambled out of the blankets to take it. Curse her battery for needing to be charged! Tara quickly unlocked her phone and saw the message was from you.

Y/N: You need to see this!

Underneath it she saw the cutest Instagram reel of a puppy surrounded by ducklings.

Tara: 😍😍😍 They are so cute!

Your answer was immediate.

Y/N: Not as cute as certain someone, but it’ll have to do 😉

Tara fell back on her bed, a ridiculously wide smile already making its way to her face. Fuck, she missed you so much. ‘Yeah? Certain someone?’ she replied and her breath hitched when you sent her a selfie wearing a very soft looking shirt and grinning at her, and all of that could be manageable, if only Tara’s eyes didn’t immediately go to your lips and she realized it’s been way too long since she got to kiss you. She needed to feel your lips on her own, on her neck, on… fuck, what if you went lower. She bit her lower lip, studying your face, imagining your smiles, the way you looked at her.

Y/N: Tara? Baby? You’ve left me on seen for five minutes

That message temporarily snapped her out of her daydreaming. Or would it be nightdreaming? She never really thought of the logic behind the word. And she was desperately trying to ignore the desire gradually, scratch that, rapidly building inside of her.

Tara: I miss you

She finally replied and glanced back at your selfie as you typed the response.

Y/N: I kiss you too

Y/N (edited): I miss you too

Tara burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth. ‘I saw it! Can’t take it back!’ she replied only to barely hold her laughter back when you just replied with ‘Shit.’ She smiled fondly, taking pity on you.

Tara: I want to kiss you too, so, so bad. I keep thinking about it and other things all the time

There, she confessed, knowing you were still prone to getting embarrassed and all shy about how affectionate Tara could get. Randomly kissing your cheek or hugging you when she knew you least expected was easily her favorite thing to do. The clear embarrassment on your face and the hitched breath, and especially the way you would freeze for a moment kept Tara entertained.

You had your own ways to mess with her, though she suspected you weren’t doing it on purpose. You would just go ahead and pull her chair out for her to sit, or bring her favorite coffee along when you would meet up and it was really messing her up to feel so cared for after years of neglect. It was yet another reason why she was so mad at Sam because she feared she wouldn’t be able to forgive her sister if Sam’s suspicious nature chased you away.

Y/N: Other things?

Hook, line, and sinker.

Tara opened her camera and switched to video. She winked at it and then turned it lower, to her waist, making sure to capture every detail as she unbuttoned her jeans and just brushed her fingers over the zipper, taunting you. She slowly panned the camera up her body while trailing the path with her hand. “Other things,” she was well aware of the sliver of her skin the camera caught when she pushed her shirt up. “Very specific things,” she whispered as seductively as she could, which, well, she didn’t have experience with seducing people, but she knew she’d get the desired effect with you as her hand brushing between her breasts moved the shirt in a way that emphasized her cleavage. And then she returned the camera to her face to show you she was lightly biting the corner of her lower lip.

She didn’t hesitate one moment before sending it.

You saw the message immediately, yet you didn’t respond, and Tara may have been stuck between getting nervous and completely confident in her charms. Minutes later she finally saw you typing.

Y/N: Tara

She could hear the exasperation in your message, yet she just sent ‘Yes, Baby? 🥺’

Y/N: Look at you acting all innocent

Yeah, she knew she was being rather mischievous. Even more so when she just replied with: ‘But I am all innocent’ she waited a moment, imagining you rolling your eyes and not immediately noticing the word play.

Tara: All innocent and inexperienced, just waiting for you to touch me

She put her phone under her shirt and took a photo, making sure there was just enough light to tease the details of her bra and sent it to you.

Your reply made her squeeze her thighs together. You sent her another photo, this time of you in front of a mirror, your hand covering the bulge in your pants and Tara caught herself wondering, and not for the first time, how big you were.

“Don’t tease me,” she sent you a voice message, whining as she cupped her breast, as her mind created the images of you taking her, fucking her. Instead of a message you actually called her and she resisted cursing because she was about to unzip her jeans and slip her hand inside. “Hey,” she whispered, trying to figure out if she could still do it.

“I’m teasing? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” your voice sounded strained an she knew you were in just as much of a dilemma as she was, only you seemed to be stronger than her, because if she didn’t do something about the lust she felt she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

“I know,” she admitted, biting back a moan as she slipped her hand into her jeans and teased her pussy over her panties. Fuck, she was already wet. “Y/N,” if only you were here with her, touching her, fucking her. “Are you hard?”

“What do you think?” you replied and she knew the answer. “I haven’t seen you in five days and the first thing you send me is that fucking video,” oh, you were cursing. She really got to you and you were definitely getting to her as she pushed her panties aside and slid her fingers through her wet folds.

“You started it,” Tara tried to defend herself.

“It was an innocent selfie!” you exclaimed just as she brushed the tip of her finger over her clit.

“Fuck, if we don’t stop neither of us will be innocent by tomorrow morning,” she moaned into the pillow, stuck between the urge to make herself cum and just sneak out and go to you.

“Shit, maybe we shouldn’t stop,” she could hear the faint sound of you stroking your cock and probably would have wondered if you could hear her too, but more importantly she made her decision.

“I’ll be there in ten,” she absolutely despised herself for pulling her hand out of her jeans and ending the call, but she would quickly get rid of that feeling, she just needed to get to you first.

~X~

You met in front of your apartment with Tara immediately jumping into your arms and kissing you, and you found yourself being pushed against the wall next to your doors as she deepened the kiss. “Fuck, finally,” she groaned, pressing her body against yours. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, and you felt her grinding against you, not even waiting to get inside.

The effort it took to actually slow down and take her to your bedroom should be studied, but you couldn’t let your first time be rough and quick. No, Tara deserved a lot more than that. “Easy, Tara, let’s just go inside,” you barely put your hand over your mouth to quiet the moan when she nibbled on your neck.

“I need you,” she whined, but allowed you to pull her into the apartment and toward the bedroom.

“I know, I know, I need you too,” you confessed, uncomfortably hard, and it only got worse when Tara pushed you onto the bed and straddled your lap. “But we can take as much time as we want, just take it slow and enjoy our first time instead of rushing through it.”

She felt it when she jumped into your arms, and now that she was straddling your lap. This was what she wanted for so long, yet now that she was looking at you the words you spoke echoed through her mind. Yeah, she would really enjoy that, just taking things slow for once. Slow and steady.

She leaned down, kissing you softly as she brushed her fingers over the fabric of your shirt, reaching up to your shoulders and squeezing lightly when you wrapped your arms around her. “You sure you’ll be able to hold back,” she asked when she pulled back, you were very hard after all.

You ran your fingers through her hair and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not holding anything back,” you promised and kissed her again. Your lips felt so soft, and Tara moaned, she truly missed this feeling. You slid your hand down to her neck and Tara let out a shuddering sigh as she lifted her head up and made it easier for you to kiss her neck. This was good, this was familiar. Making out with you always left her needy and this time wasn’t an exception as she felt the heat pooling in her core. “Y-Y/N,” she whimpered when you bit her neck slightly, just the way she liked it and Tara slowly began grinding on you. “Just like that,” she whispered as you dragged your tongue up her neck, soothing the burning skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” you were mesmerized by her, captivated by her beauty. Her breathy moans felt like the most beautiful melody ever created and you were the one causing them. You pulled her shirt up just enough to slip your hands underneath it. You felt the slight shiver of her body as she squirmed a bit at your touch.

“Your hands are a bit cold,” she giggled as your fingertips brushed along her sides. “Y/N, that tickles,” she smacked you slightly on the shoulder and saw the grin on your face. “Goofball,” she kissed you quickly.

“Sorry,” you muttered, only half-serious as Tara sat up and slowly, in the most tormenting, teasing way possible, took her shirt and bra off. “Fuck,” she looked gorgeous and there was no way your eyes weren’t giving your thoughts away because you couldn’t get them off her body.

Tara smiled at that, she’s shown you her scars before, so she wasn’t worried about your reaction, but this? She was definitely getting an ego boost from this reaction, and the way your cock twitched against her pussy. “You want me, Y/N? Take me,” she said it. “Do anything you want with me,” and in return she’d do anything she wanted with you and there were plenty of things she wanted, so many in fact she knew you couldn’t do it all tonight.

You cleared your throat and nodded as you sat up yourself and then flipped the two of you around so you were on top of Tara. You looked her in the eyes as you leaned down and, while cupping her breast, licked her already hard nipple. Tara took your own shirt and bra off and watched you as you sucked on her breast while she ran her fingers through your hair, encouraging you to keep going. Her other hand found your breasts and she brushed her thumb against your nipple.

Your tangled bodies moved together. Every touch of your hands left her skin burning, left her body more desperate for your touch, every single brush of your fingers drove her mad with desire. And she still didn’t take her jeans or panties off. Your hand went lower until your fingers tugged at her jeans, teasing her and making her moan. “Need you,” she whispered and felt you nodding as your unzipped her jeans and pulled them down.

“You’re soaking wet,” you grunted as you slowly rubbed her pussy over her panties. Tara dared to believe you could slip your cock inside her without any troubles with how wet she was if only you weren’t so big. You pulled your hand out of her jeans, making her immediately whine.

“Y/N, don’t tease me, please,” she begged, but luckily you just took a moment to take her jeans and panties off and strip the rest of your clothes as well.

“That’s your specialty,” you got back on top of her and pushed two fingers inside her pussy, and if she wasn’t as aroused as she was she would probably be embarrassed at how easily your fingers slipped in. Your fingers felt so good inside her as you continued kissing and caressing her body and Tara lay there, a moaning mess before your cock was even inside her. She reached down and wrapped her hand around your cock, there was precum leaking out of it as she rubbed the tip with her thumb. “Don’t, I won’t last if you do that,” you bit her shoulder a bit rougher than you intended. “I want to cum when I’m inside you,” you said while bringing her close to her orgasm.

“Me too then. Put it in me, I’m ready,” she spread her legs for you and kissed you as you blindly reached for the drawer next to your bed and grabbed the condom on top of it. If she didn’t quite literally tell you you would be having sex she would have teased you, but as it was she just wanted you to put it on and fuck her.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” you asked as you lined your cock up with the entrance to her pussy. And oh, she was ready, soaking wet, she probably wouldn’t even feel any pain. Tara nodded and kissed you once more as she hugged you tightly. She felt the tip of your cock sliding into her pussy and moaned, breaking the kiss and leaning her head back on your pillow.

“Y- Ah! Y/N!” she cried out your name, her fingertips digging into the back of your head, her back arching as you wrapped one arm around her and used the other to hold onto her hip.

“You’re taking me so well, Tara,” you whispered in her ear and finally, finally, she took all of you. She was close before, but now, feeling this full, she knew she was right on the edge.

You knew you couldn’t last for long like this. Tara’s warm, wet pussy engulfed you and you tried to focus on something else, to prolong this, but there was no way you could do that, so, you moved your hand from her hip to her clit and began rubbing as you slowly began thrusting into her, hoping you could get her to cum before you did. You would hold back until she cums, you promised that to yourself.

“I’m so close,” Tara moaned. “Look at me,” she pleaded, and you immediately complied as you looked into each other’s eyes, your bodies moving in the perfect sync as she began meeting your thrusts. Her orgasm kept building up, slow and steady, like your entire lovemaking was tonight, and with each thrust she could see you were getting close as well. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, no longer conscious of how much time you spent like that. She just knew that at one point she came, loud and hard, as your sweat covered bodies pressed together and she felt you cumming as well with a moan of your own.

She was absolutely spent. Satisfied with this being her first time. There would be other nights or days for longer lovemaking with multiple orgasms. In her head, and she truly hoped, in yours too, this was perfect.

Tara held onto you, feeling happier than she’s been in a long time. The blissful feeling consuming her entirely as you pulled your cock out and she glanced down at the filled condom. Maybe it was just her orgasm affecting her brain but she couldn’t help but think how one day, when you’re both ready, you’ll be cumming deep inside her. “Baby, Y/N,” she hummed as you caught your breath on top of her and she gently scratched the back of your head.

You lowered your head a bit and kissed her shoulder. “You were incredible,” you whispered, peppering her shoulder and the side of her neck with soft butterfly kisses. “Tara,” you whispered her name like it was your own, personal salvation. “I love you so much,” it wasn’t the first time you said those words, but it felt so good to hear them.

“I love you too, Y/N,” she tilted your chin up and kissed you on the lips, just as soft as everything tonight was. “I never thought sex would feel this good,” she admitted. There was no pain, no holding back, it consumed her entirely and all she could feel was your love for her as you took her innocence.

You chuckled. “Tell me about it,” you rolled onto your back and pulled Tara on top of you so you could rest while still holding her.

Tara had other ideas, turning both of you so you were lying on the side. “There, that’s better,” she whispered and leaned in, closing the distance between you. You would need to get up soon, clean up, take care of the mess you made, but she could bask in your warmth for a bit longer. Especially when you began rubbing her back, soothing her, keeping her feeling good. “I love how gentle and loving you were,” she whispered as she snuggled up to you, aware that, while she did absolutely enjoy the gentle sex she wasn’t opposed to getting a bit rougher sooner or later. She wanted to feel it all with you, to try everything and anything you were both comfortable with.

“It felt right,” you hummed, focusing on holding her and occasionally kissing wherever you could reach at the moment. While Tara showered you with love through words, you preferred touch, and it worked for both of you perfectly. Tara who was starved for touch, you who were starved for words of affirmation, I was a match made in heaven in her mind.

You stayed like that for some time, easily fifteen minutes, if not closer to twenty. Just cuddling and loving one another before you finally went to clean up, not leaving the shared shower until all the hot water had run out.

A/N: Well... Sam may have been a tiny bit over the top/out of character for the sake of the plot 🤣🤣

#perunrequests #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader #g!p reader #bottom tara carpenter #top reader

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

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As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

•○🌑○•

Part 2

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

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squiddyfics · 3 months ago

Text

squid game characters in a relationship with you

saebyeok, thanos, namgyu, daeho, hyunju, semi, the recruiter

description: how squid game characters would be as partners (au; no mention of the games)

18+ minors dni

warnings: nsfw in parts!!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

saebyeok:

♡ you were the one to ask her out and she quite literally didn't believe it

♡ like she didn't even answer you at first because she didn't think you were being serious

♡ she has a hard time expressing her emotions. you definitely said "i love you" first and it took her a while to feel comfortable saying it back

♡ despite this, she was the one who fell in love first. she just kept that shit to herself lmao

♡ rather than being outwardly affectionate with her words, she expresses her love through quality time. she loves planning dates for you or just cooking for you at home

♡ she's not big on pda, but she'll wrap a protective arm around you while you're out together

♡ if someone hits on you, she'll get even more protective. partly out of jealousy, but mostly because she hates the thought of someone making you uncomfortable

♡ she's a generous lover. def more of a giver if you know what i mean

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

thanos:

♡ he was the one to approach you, and he was bold about it too

♡ you aren't his first partner by any means, but you're his first real love

♡ he looooves to show you off. "look at my baby. look how lucky i got."

♡ naturally, this means he's into pda. the more eyes on the two of you, the better. he wants the whole world to know you're his

♡ especially if someone shows interest in you... then he gets even more touchy, so he can rub it in their face that you're his, all his

♡ if anyone wrongs you, he'll vow to make their life a living hell. you can't even gossip about your work drama to him without him getting angry on your behalf and threatening to kill them

♡ even though he talks a big game he knows he's lowk a loser and he doesn't take it for granted that you choose to stay by his side

♡ that being said he makes you his bitch in bed. he's for sure heavily on the dominant side

♡ he also has an exhibitionism kink i just feel that in my bones

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

namgyu:

♡ he was the one to make a move on you, but he said it in a joking manner so that if you said no, he could play it off as not being serious

♡ this man's love language is physical touch there's no doubt about it

♡ his words don't match his actions.. like he'll make fun of you for crying during a movie while simultaneously cuddling you and rubbing your back

♡ he doesn't have any cute pet names for you, just insults said in a loving manner ("stinky" etc). he just can't take himself seriously enough to be sappy

♡ you've unlocked his secret second love language, which is sending you memes

♡ he wants to be seen as tough so he pretends to hate it when you call him cute (he does not, in fact, hate it) (it actually melts him)

♡ he gives the evil eye to anyone who dares to look at you for a second too long

♡ you are for his eyes only

♡ he's dominant in bed but he likes you bratty. he wants to work for it

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

daeho:

♡ you had known him for a while, and you had to be the one to ask him out because he was oblivious to all the hints you were dropping

♡ he was too much of a gentleman to risk overstepping your boundaries by asking you on a date

♡ however, once he had the confirmation that you actually liked him, he was all in

♡ he was absolutely the first one to say "i love you". that man fell head over heels

♡ he is patient as fuck and will put up with whatever bullshit you throw at him. like when you tested the orange peel theory on him and he passed with flying colors

♡ you literally have a pet boyfriend. he'll go anywhere with you and do anything to make you happy. your fav himbo <3

♡ he's prone to jealousy but tries not to show it so as not to make a scene in front of you. if someone hurts you, though, all etiquette goes out the window and he's ready to start SWINGING

♡ your pleasure is his priority in bed and he's up for whatever you're into, but when it comes to his preferences, he'd much rather be dominated by you

♡ call him a good boy and his brain will go haywire

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

hyunju:

♡ you definitely had to make the first move. this mf was way too stoic to express her feelings for you

♡ she got anxious and cancelled on you before your first date, so you had to be persistent and reschedule

♡ she was surprised by your strong interest in her, and she still doesn't know how she got so lucky

♡ it took her a bit to open up, but she ended up saying "i love you" first

♡ she's extremely protective of you. her introversion is forgotten as soon as someone upsets you, and she's giving them a piece of her mind within seconds

♡ she doesn't really get jealous, she just gets sad :(

♡ she's an acts of service girly. she'll vacuum your floor, change a flat tire for you, anything to feel useful to you

♡ she gives stone top energy (this one is more for an f!reader as it's a wlw term)

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

semi:

♡ she was the one to ask you out, and she said it so casually that you almost missed it

♡ her first "i love you" was also casual, said as she was leaving your house one morning. "bye, love you."

♡ you honestly don't know if she's prone to jealousy because no one has fucked around and found out. everyone around you two respects her quiet confidence and doesn't even bother trying anything with you

♡ she has strong opinions, but she expresses them calmly. because of this, the two of you never fight, though you do occasionally have respectful debates. you tend to walk away feeling like she was in the right after all

♡ she's not huge on pda unless it's something cute and lowkey like holding hands, or some stupid shit like licking you

♡ you def have a secret handshake

♡ she's a soft dom and she's not shy about wanting to receive. she wants you on your knees in front of her

♡ with that said, she also gives great head. that lip piercing..... iykyk

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

the recruiter:

♡ he asked you out at a bar, making a bet that if you lost at pool, you'd go on a date with him

♡ you lost on purpose so his fine ass would take you on a date, and the rest was history

♡ he said he loved you first, and he said it fast. it's not often that he feels love for someone, so he had to act on it

♡ he would do anything for you. anything. if you asked him for help burying a body, he'd tell you not to get your pretty hands dirty; he'd do it himself

♡ not that that would happen... but he's thought about it. he knows that's how dedicated he is to you

♡ this freaky little fuck doesn't feel an iota of jealousy when others flirt with you. he just smiles, knowing know matter how much they fight for your attention, it'll be his name you're screaming at the end of the night

♡ he likes to be in control in life, and that translates to the bedroom too

♡ he has big sadist energy, but if he ever actually crosses a line he'll drop everything to comfort you (and beat himself up about it)

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 7 months ago

Note

Help- bakugo w a gf who’s always cold

It’s the middle of winter and they’re chilling at the dorms, he’s making her tea and she jus sneaks up behind him and shoves her hands up his shirt and he screams like a girl

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

tell me why . . your hands are cold !

katsuki is way better than the heater

a/n.: LMFAOOO this is so cute..and way overdue omg, im so sorry this took so long anon ! i hope you're still hanging around and hope you enjoy ! also as someone who's hands are also legit always freezing (ppl w reynauds say hey) this is for me lol

cw.: no pronouns mentioned here im pretty sure !, fluff n stuff :3 katsuki threatens our life like once or twice but psshhh it doesnt mattuuur..lemme know if i missed sum else !

katsuki lets out a high pitched gasp before his next words come out "HOLY FUCK."

he slams his hands onto the counter in surprise, the spoon he'd used to pour some honey in your mug clatters and drop on the counter. his eyes drift down from your hands under his shirt, to looking back at you with a glare that could terrify any villain. yet you send him a mischievous little smile over his shoulder.

he grips your hands and quickly yanks them off his skin "what. the fuck. are doing." his eye twitched as he growled out his words calmly, but calm in a scary way that definitely does not match with your boyfriend's attitude.

"i was just trying to warm up, it's so cold in here." you whine playfully, katsuki squints at you the more you speak. the grip on your hands tighten as you try to press your cold hands to his skin again.

"so just- turn the fuckin' heater up." he grunts.

"but i want you, suki. you're way warmer." you tease using your sweetest voice. katsuki's nose turns up.

"stop bothering me. m'not gonna get anything done and then you'll blame me when you freeze to death. goin' out of my way to do somethin' nice for you, and this is how you thank me." he chastised, feeling your hands creeping around he quickly shoo's them away with a "cut it out. " ignoring your complaints.

"but, katsukiii. your squeal was so cute."

"fuck off and die. i didn't squeal." he scoffs.

"but you did."

"but i didn't." he pulls your arms closer, spinning around so you can see his pissed of expression, the grip on your hand tightens. "quit clinging to me."

you pout, dropping your chin against his chest to look up at him. his eyebrows furrow "but i like being close to you like this, you're so warm.. it's comfy."

"you and this weird shit you keep saying.." he mutters to himself, but you can see the slight blush on his face. "i'm busy. making tea. for you." he reiterates.

your eyebrows furrow "too busy to hang out with me ?"

"way too busy." he smirks. of course, he only gets happy when he's the one messing with you.

"jerk." you huff. katsuki snorts, pulling your arms harder he bring his hands over yours. he almost jumps at the contact "shit--you're freezing."

"i told you it's cold in here !"

he brings your hands up to his face as if to inspect them "nah, think this is just a you problem." he insists. you laugh, then tilt your head "so, you gonna help me out or not ?" you blink sweetly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. he groans, swiftly turning back around and you think he's ignoring you now, but he's still got your hands in his grip. then he brings them to his skin, you hum at the feeling while he immediately hisses. "fuck.." you hear him say through his teeth.

"this is the best." you sigh, pressing your cheek to his back. your boyfriend lets out an exasperated sigh. "glad you're enjoyin' it." he bites sarcastically, you giggle against his shirt.

a kiss to his back "thank you, suki. you're the best." katsuki doesn't respond, and you're fine with that. listening to his soft breaths and the sound of the water boiling in the kettle. you hear him turn it off, slowly pouring the hot water in. you feel your hands warm up, and his shoulders untense at the feeling. he really is better than a heater.

"tell me somethin' i don't know, the shit i do for your ass.." he grumbles. you hear the swirling sound of the spoon against the ceramic of the mug, it clings and rings slightly in your ears. katsuki grabs it and turns around to hand it to you, scowl still very present on his features.

"here. warm up." he orders. the moment you make contact your entire body feels warmer. you sigh warmly, sitting down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. he leans against the counter, watching you blow away the steam before taking tiny sips of your drink.

"thank you, katsu.." you exhale in relief. "yeah, yeah.." he mutters, following suit and sitting down in his chair. no more words are exchanged as you quietly sip on your tea. “feel better ?” katsuki adds after a moment, you nod happily, gulping down your drink. he reaches for your hand when you place your mug down, squeezing to check for himself. “good. yer fuckin' hands were colder than icy hot's and that’s part of his whole damn quirk.”

"and what're you holding todoroki's hand for, you're not cheating on me with him are you ? ” you snort, he cranes his neck to look at you incredulously "i'll actually fucking kill you." you throw your head back and laugh. you miss your boyfriend's lips slowly twitching into a smile. he squeezes your hand in joking reprimand.

"i still prefer you, though. waaay better than the heater." you add cheekily, running your thumb over his skin, you like how the small action makes goosebumps rise against his skin.

"yeah ?" you nod intensely and your boyfriend scoffs. "..dumbass." he mutters, turning away and placing his hand over his mouth. " hey !" you exclaim, katsuki lets out a snort behind his hand. but he squeezes your hand even tighter, and you feel even warmer.

taglist :

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago

Text

A Lovely Night

Summary: Terry and Patrice prepare for prom and a new level of their relationship.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 8.8K

Warnings: None

At the tender age of 13, with braces still on her top row of teeth and dreams of marrying a pop star who didn't yet know her name, Patrice came to three conclusions: she was leaving St. Pius after 8th grade, she definitely did want to be a teacher someday, and she was going to have a prom date before she graduated high school.

The third conclusion came as she sat by herself at the 8th-grade formal, watching throngs of white children dance to censored hip-hop music in pairs and large groups while she was but a beautiful wallflower without the pleasure of being asked to attend. If not for her mother preemptively purchasing a dress before Patrice could confirm a dance partner for the evening, she would've stayed home and wallowed in her room. Better to cry in private than to suffer the embarrassment of visible loneliness in public. But, while she fought incoming misty tears threatening to smudge the mascara her mother had so graciously allowed her to use, Patrice swore that things would be different by her senior year. Her luck would turn. Shit, she might even be prom queen.

Years later, when dreams began to catch up to reality, Patrice's 8th-grade formal debacle seemed primed for a remix. One month until prom and still no prospect for a prom date was social status killer number one. She'd worked hard in her senior year to reinvent herself, shed the reputation she'd inadvertently received as Terry's cute but strange shadow friend, and step into a new image as the senior hottie she was destined to be. Becoming Homecoming Queen was step one in the plan. Step two was senior class president. Step three, the hardest of them all, was having a small army of young men vying for a chance to take her to the ball. So far, only the weird junior from AP Calc had stepped up. Everyone else had slowly split into pairs, preparing matching ensembles, limo rentals, and after-party plans, leaving Patrice as a lone wolf destined to repeat past failures.

"Is Napheesa really going to prom with Nate? Like for real?"

Wednesday evenings were set aside for family spaghetti night and Calc homework with Terry via ooVoo video chat. She'd completed her first task of sharing something sweet and sour from her day around the dinner table. After lying her way into something sour that didn't include her prom woes, math with Terry was a welcomed distraction.

Patrice wiped away wayward red sauce from her mouth with her hoodie sleeve before refocusing on Terry's face taking up her laptop screen. "Yeah. He asked her Sunday when they were hanging out. It was kinda cute, really. I think he sang a song or something."

Terry snickered. "Nigga swear he Trey Songz." He mocked Nate and the R&B hearthob's singing voice in one go, sending him and Patrice into laughter. When they finally calmed down, Terry settled into a more serious temperament. "Corey's going with Jasmine. I think they're wearing red."

"I heard. He showed me his tux. You know he's planning to wear red shoes? I told him he was gonna look like a Mississippi pimp, but he don't listen. Is the answer to number six 375?" As quickly as she'd delivered more news, Patrice was already on to the next thing.

Terry smiled at how her face scrunched in confusion. "No. I think you miscalculated somewhere."

"Shit," she whispered. "Don't tell me. Let me figure it out." Terry watched in rapt silence, enamored by Patrice's prominent features, which were made more striking by a neat ponytail showcasing her face as the main attraction.

He waited silently as she typed the expression into her calculator again, battling whether now or in person was a good time to ask his question. If he waited again, he risked chickening out like he did before they parted ways in the senior parking lot to beat the morning tardy bell. He decided to strike while she wasn't looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes.

"So…uh…you going to prom with anyone?"

She scoffed without looking up. "No. At least not yet. Usher still hasn't responded to my emails. I sent Chris Brown one, too, so maybe he'll come through."

"Good luck with that," he chuckled. Nerves tried to caution him on moving forward. A rational, fully formed frontal lobe would've told him to quit while he was ahead. Teenage folly made him open his mouth to say, "Wanna go with me?"

Patrice paused her work to look up and smile. "You sure? We don't have to. I wouldn't be mad if you asked someone else."

"I'm asking who I want to go with. Unless you givin' me the run around like Phee did Cam."

"No," Patrice cut in, rolling her eyes. "I was just saying!"

Terry smiled. "So we're going to prom together? Me and you? In Carolina blue? You see how I made that happen? Creative writing really might be worth it."

A genuine, hearty laugh came from Patrice's mouth as she threw her head back in reaction to Terry's terrible attempt at an off-the-cuff poem. Or so Terry thought. Really, she'd released years of pent-up fear and expected disappointment. Finally, in the 11th hour, Patrice had a prom date. Sure, it was her best friend she'd been falling more in love with day by day with no indication they'd ever be together, but it was something. Dream realized. Victory.

"Yeah, we're going to prom together," she confirmed after her giggle attack had ended. They stared at each other momentarily, basking in the implications of a night under makeshift stars in the swanky event space across town. Patrice fought to look back at her calculator and announce what had to be the correct answer this time. "It's 215. I multiplied by 23 instead of multiplying 2 and 3. Movin' too fast, I guess."

Terry nodded proudly. "Yeah. You got it. Good job."

As Patrice moved on to a new exam prep question and rolled through the math aloud, the bitter taste of dissatisfaction coated his tongue. The spark he expected from asking the girl he'd been falling deeper into what he knew of love with was nothing more than a quick flicker of excitement – fun but empty. He could do better. Especially if he wanted his true intentions of turning a friendship into something more substantial to stand a chance.

Two mornings later, with a day separating Terry's promposal and the opportunity to back out before their paring was set in stone, Patrice bounced into Francis from a doctor's appointment with a new lease on life and big news to share with Napheesa.

She opened her locker as usual before fourth-period English, looking for her orange class notebook and the assigned textbook. She found them both without issue and nearly pranced off to class with nothing but gossip on her mind until she noticed the index card taped to her locker mirror.

Can you meet me in the library after school? 398.2. I'm sure you know what that means.

The handwriting looked more feminine than Patrice was accustomed to, not matching what she'd seen from Napheesa's notes back and forth in class or from Corey, who'd mastered the forgery dark arts. Still, she tucked the instructions into her everything binder's inside pouch and kept it close until the final bell rang.

Like a spy on a top-secret mission, Patrice dodged conversations from her classmates, threaded her body between students walking to and fro in the main hallway, and quietly ducked into the library on the hunt for the mysterious being requesting her presence.

398.2. It took Patrice an entire class period to decipher what the collection of numbers meant. Too short for a phone number, obviously, she thought to herself. It wasn't a locker number or any other location in the school. Area codes didn't come with decimals. She thought long and hard, willing the answer into existence. Realization smacked her in the head with the full force of Mike Tyson on her way to Terry's locker to grab her sociology notebook. The Dewey Decimal System. More specifically, the section of the library dedicated to folk and fairytales.

Led by an ironclad knowledge of the library's layout and excitement nearly pouring from her pores, Patrice speed-walked past the librarian's station at the front, waved hello to Ms. Wanamaker re-stocking returned library books from seniors trying to clear their outstanding balances before fines set in, and turned the corner onto her intended row.

Snow White piqued her curiosity first. The book appeared to jut out from the rest, so she glanced around for any lookie-loos straggling nearby and pulled it off the shelf. Nothing. Patrice shrugged and put the book back before focusing on other possible answers. Fairy Tales from The Brothers Grimm turned up nothing. Some weird book of Greek myths briefly felt like cracking the code but ultimately fell flat. Patrice had been duped. Led astray. Lied to. She was sure someone was watching through shelves and laughing at how she'd been fooled in a scavenger hunt.

Some hopeful part of her brain directed Patrice's annoyed attention to the book spine conspicuously sticking out amongst its neighbor. She thought about what she might do if she were to flip through another dud and settled on knocking everything down as she yanked the worn edition of Cinderella from its spot. Luckily, a quick flip to its front cover ended her search.

I don't know if I'm your Prince Charming, but I want you to feel like a Cinderella for a night. Will you go with me to the ball? I'll have you home before the clock strikes 12.

She recognized this handwriting, slanted and slender, on another index card. Patrice ran her index finger over the words and gave them another full read, not noticing the tall young man slowly revealing himself at the end of the aisle with a smile on his face and the gleam of mischief in his eyes.

"I should've done this the right way the first time," he spoke, startling Patrice. He lifted his hands in surrender and disarmed her with a smile. "My bad."

Patrice smiled back. "Since when did you learn the decimal system?"

"If I tell you, I can't take you to prom. So, you either gotta answer the question on the card or get the answer to yours. Which one is it?"

"Give me your answer."

Horrified confusion and feigned annoyance flashed across Terry's young, handsome face as he watched Patrice double over in stifled laughter. He chuckled and kissed his teeth as he stepped closer. "Patrice, be serious. Will you go to prom with me? I'm really asking."

Terry's sincerity, both in his voice inflection and in how his brows knitted in anticipation of a response, made Patrice stand up to her full height and smile back at her best friend.

"Of course, TJ. I will absolutely go to prom with you."

A fist pump and smile in the back corner of the school library was as good as any contract signed in black ink with a felt-tipped pen and the appropriate amount of witnesses. It was official official. Terry and Patrice were going to prom together.

News of the expected pairing spread through the halls like wildfire, the truth morphing into something of a fairytale itself as it passed from person to person. Terry had asked Patrice in the library on one knee or in the parking lot, and they kissed, or between classes, and Patrice cried. Actually, Patrice asked Terry! In one version of events, Terry had abruptly reneged on his promposal to Junior cheerleader Cierra and asked Patrice at the last minute. A messy affair in a messy love triangle between the messiest best-friend duo the school had ever known, according to some twisted version of events.

Neither Patrice nor Terry cared to clear up rumors or refute gossip. They were too busy prepping for the best night of their young lives.

Pin cushions and yards of organza covered Patrice's living room floor by Sunday afternoon, turning recently the replaced grey carpet into a sea of light blue as her Aunt Sybil eyeballed measurements and cut the fabric into careful shapes to match the pattern Patrice and Imani had agreed was perfect for a Cinderella-inspired gown. Glitter. She needed glitter tucked into every inch to turn an ordinary dress into one that sparkled in the right light. Rosalyn requested sleeves for modesty, and Patrice agreed, not because she wanted to, but because she knew compromise was her best friend. They settled on sparkling flower appliqué details on the bodice to bring in the event's garden theme, a dainty off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline with draped sleeves to satisfy her beaming mother, and a soft corset to create a ball gown illusion for the flowing, floor-length-skirt. A masterpiece in Patrice's eyes. Especially the hidden thigh-high split she and Imani schemed, plotted, and cried to have included when Rosalyn wasn't listening.

Hair, makeup, nails, and fragrance were all Patrice thought about for days. She sat with Napheesa on Google for hours, looking for the perfect photos to show their beauty service providers when the time came. Every detail, down to the number of tendrils springing from her bun to add a little Princess Tiana into her Disney fantasy, was carefully crafted to fit the vision she'd had of herself since the 8th grade.

Terry hadn't dived head-first off the prom prep cliff, but he was close. Marvin couldn't understand why his son was suddenly so hell-bent on switching to the younger barber and his creative cuts until Diedra pulled him aside for a quick update in the Richmond Girl saga. He couldn't have any old fade. He needed something to stop Patrice in her tracks and garner enough praise to fuel him until he was 21. He'd work every weekend until boot camp to pay off that extra $50 plus tip if it meant his haircut was precise.

A trip to the tailor turned a baggy, hand-me-down wedding tux into something tailored for his brand new, 6'3" frame. Diedra watched with pride in her shining eyes as Terry stood tall and allowed the much smaller shop owner to stand on a step ladder and adjust the jacket's shoulders to Terry's proportions. Take in the waist here, lengthen that hem, get the fit of that cummerbund just right, not too shiny on the shoes or too dark on that blue – he's got a date with the prettiest girl in the world, and he can't get caught lacking. Another $150 withdrawn from his parent's bank account, another step closer to the best night of his short life.

The final puzzle piece was the paramount matter of transportation. Terry's Explorer had been out of commission since October, both from punishment and mechanical issues. He'd improved his behavior, but the starter was still shot, and any indicator that his dad would fix it went away when Terry chose to sign his life away to the United States.

Terry knew the perfect set of wheels to act as a chariot for his princess. The creamy, off-white Cadillac with less than 40,000 miles and a sick interior parked in their garage would take him from best friend to boyfriend in 15 minutes flat. He just needed the permission.

Slinking out of his room, Terry coached himself through a pre-planned script as he jogged down the front porch steps to the tall, greying, light-skinned man diligently trimming healthy green hedges per his wife's instructions.

"Hey, Pop. You need some help?"

Marvin looked up at his son, confusion sheening his blue-green eyes, and shrugged. "If you wanna, I won't stop you." A man of few words and enough brains in his head to know when his boy was about to ask for something.

Taking his father's half-hearted invitation, Terry slid on a pair of working gloves nearby, grabbed the garden hedge sheers lying in a pile of other tools, and began carefully chopping at his mama's award-winning bushes.

They worked silently for several long minutes, two tall, slender Richmond men toiling away in the mid-April breeze until Terry mustered up enough courage to make his request known. "Dad, could I…maybe, um…drive your car for prom? Just that one night?"

"The truck?" Marvin knew the answer but wanted to teach his only son a lesson in the type of directness that made boys into men.

"No. The Cadillac. Our friends are doing the limo thing, but I want to – I'm just not trying to spend the whole night with them. It's easier if I can put the money for the limo towards dinner and really enjoy myself. With Patrice. Together for probably the last time."

Marvin listened to his son's appeal without looking away from his task, mulling over the answer he already had in his head. He'd been in young love before and knew all of the fear and excitement from exploring matters of the heart.

Terry watched his father continue to prune errant branches and leaves from the collection of perfectly green hedges, feeling the pieces of his plan for a magical night blow away in the wind. He'd already begun working through how to get $50 to Corey by the end of the night when Marvin set his shears down and started rifling through his coverall pockets.

He pulled out a crisp $100 bill, allowed his neutral expression to brighten into a small smile, and extended his hand toward Terrence. "Hold that for dinner." Then he reached into another pocket to pull out a ring of keys to toss in Terry's direction. "And hold these for this evenin'. I gotta see you drive her before I let you off by yourself. You fuck up my Caddy, and you won't make it to Parris Island, Tybee Island, or Island Seafood down the street without a cane because I'm gon' need at least three toes for my car."

"I got it, Dad," Terry laughed. "I promise. I'll have it back a little after 12. Treece got a curfew.”

"Mhmm. She got your little nose wide open, too. When y'all gon' stop all that playing and do the real thing?"

Terry hoped he could return to his father triumphant by next Saturday night to proudly proclaim he and Patrice had finally decided to do "the real thing." He spent the whole week counting down the seconds until he could ask for her hand at the dinner table, confess his feelings, earn a big kiss, and walk into the event center as Francis Edwards High School's newest couple.

Patrice considered the possibility of going from best friend to girlfriend all week but kept her fantasies locked inside her mind for fear of interrupting Napheesa's now 15-minute-long, one-sided conversation.

The school week's events had long faded into vapors to make way for the dizzying sights and sounds of salon visits, light lunches to keep bellies flat, and gossip-filled chatter of prom preparation. Patrice and Napheesa sat side by side in massage chairs that made their bodies shake and jerk from an overzealous contraption while their feet soaked in bowls of bubbling lukewarm water. Their mothers had dropped them off for coordinated early morning nail appointments they both hoped would fit into 90 minutes. Napheesa had to be on time for her beautician or else she'd spend an extra hour at the hair salon. Patrice didn't have a fancy chair to sit in for her appointment. Still, Ms. Brenda's daughter liked to get off track in her kitchen studio, and she didn't have the time or patience for anyone to ruin her plans.

Napheesa flipped through color swatches while she multitasked providing updates to her best friend and picking which shade of baby pink would match her dress best. "Corey said his after-party is invite-only, but you know how he gets when he get a crowd. Everybody and they mama gone be over there. You and Terry sure y'all don't wanna ride in the limo with us so you don't have to worry about finding a place to park in his neighborhood? I don't think he'll care about the money at this point."

"Nope. Terry says he wants it to be just us, and I think he already got his dad to let him use the car." Patrice answered, smiling at the thought of being alone with him in a fancy whip.

"Okay, then! You didn't tell me about the Cadillac, now! I'm jealous." Napheesa teased. She noticed her friend's bashful smirk and reached over to playfully push her shoulder. "How you feeling about tonight? You nervous? Excited? What?"

All of that and then some, Patrice thought to herself before answering. "I don't know! I think I'm just ready to see him," she confessed. "We've never been, like, alone alone. What if I say something silly or trip and fall or something? Now the night is ruined, and I gotta come home by 8 o'clock." Patrice sighed and mentally settled on a classic French tip for her nails and feet. "I think it'll be fun. I'm just ready to skip to then."

"The way Terry acts like you're the second coming of Kevin Hart, I'm sure there's nothing silly you could do or say to make him end the night early. He might even fall down with you so you don't feel alone." The young ladies dissolved into laughter at the image of Terry's long, lanky body lowering to the ground just to make Patrice feel better about her blunder. "Just have fun, P. High school is almost over, and if you not with that boy by May, we not talking about his ass when we get on campus."

Patrice feigned offense. "We'll still be friends! I can't talk about him at all?"

"Not a peep. We only talking about fine college niggas after graduation. So, lock it down or get ready for orientatioooon." Napheesa's exaggerated body roll turned Patrice's giggling into a full-on cackle loud enough to eclipse the nearby whirring of an electric file.

Patrice would've laughed herself into a stomach ache if not for the loud ringtone trilling in her purse. Napheesa didn't need to see who was awaiting an answer to their call. The slight smile on her friend's face and starry eyes were answer enough.

"Hey, TJ," Patrice chirped as two nail techs rolled up to start their service.

In his bedroom across town, Terry eyed his face in the bathroom mirror, trying to decide which parts of his facial hair to tell his barber to keep. "What's up, Treece. Wait, are you out already?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to end up late, so me and Phee decided to get our nails done early." Patrice passed greetings between her two best friends before continuing. "What's up with you?"

"I'm on the way to the barbershop in a little bit. I just wanted to tell you I'll be by to pick you up at 5:30 so we can get to dinner on time. The food's gonna suck tonight and I don't want you to be hungry. Think you'll be ready by then?"

Patrice smiled and softened her voice. "Yeah. I'll be ready."

"Um…" Terry cut himself short, smiled at the fleeting thought of seeing his Cinderella float toward him in something spectacular, and then picked up his thought again. "I'm excited to see your dress tonight and hang out. I think it's gonna be a good night."

"Me too. I get to see you in a tie for the first time."

Terry chuckled. "And this stupid waist thing my mama's making me wear. They're gonna follow me to your place, by the way, so be ready to take pictures for forever."

"That's okay. You just make sure you don't come over there looking better than me," Patrice joked. A clean-cut, suited and booted Terry could rival Hollywood's finest leading man. She'd put money on that.

"I could never. You win that battle every time." His compliment settled on Patrice's ears and heart like light snow coating freezing cold lawns in those Hallmark Christmas movies her mom loved so much. Terry smiled at her silence before noting his father's second honk in as many minutes. "See you later, Treece. I gotta get out of here. Love you."

Patrice looked to Napheesa pretending not to listen to every word of their conversation then tried to lower her voice. "Love you, too. See you later."

Another velvety smooth goodbye left a young girl with dreams of locking more than arms with her occasionally brooding, often sweet prince swooning in a building full of strangers and her amused best friend.

"Cute shit, mom and dad." The parents joke had gained traction in the school hallways and grown legs to follow Patrice into the world via a sniggering Naphessa. Patrice looked over at her friend with a sour look and received gut-busting laughter in return. "Damn, y'all sound like my parents."

"Shut up!"

-----

Staring at her daughter in the small vanity mirror tucked in the room's back corner, Rosalyn had never seen a more beautiful girl in all her life. The baby she'd spent hours of grueling labor to usher into the world, her first of three pregnancies and two births, had grown into a young woman preparing to enter the world as a free bird spreading its wings for the time.

Tears gathered in the inner corners of her eyes, threatening to garner a groan and quiet complaints for it was the third time in an hour she'd felt like crying. Leon joked with her the first two times, remarking that Patrice's eventual wedding might send her to the upper room if this was how Rosalyn would act for prom.

Rosalyn twirled a perfectly spiraled tendril from Patrice's bun around her finger after removing the perm rod giving it shape and smiled. "You're such a pretty girl, P. Don't let anyone tell you that you aren't. Alright?"

"Yes ma'am," Patrice answered as she looked back at her mother through the mirror. She took careful stock of her appearance, trying to see what in her reflection her mother saw to say such a thing.

Brown skin, smooth as luxury chocolate and covered in just enough makeup to highlight ancestral high cheekbones and youthful features, complemented shining eyes and mouth full of pearly whites her parents had paid a fortune for in middle school. She was pretty. Beautiful. A stunning amalgamation of her mother, and her mother, and her mother's mother long before she was a twinkle in the universe.

A larger roller removed from the right side of her forehead unfurled a bouncing bang. Rosalyn kept it in place with a careful mist of spritz. "The next time I get to see you like this, you'll be getting a new last name." Patrice looked away bashfully, trying not to imagine wedding bells and a church full of family watching her walk down the aisle to the one she…loved? Loves. She did love him, she thought. She was sure of that much.

Rosalyn slowly slid the other large roller off Patrice's left side, giving it equal attention to the first. "Have fun tonight, alright. I know you'll be okay with Terry, but I'll tell you anyway: be safe. You know you can call whenever you need us. We'll come get you, no questions asked."

"I know. I don't think I'll have to call. Terry knows to have me back by midnight, and we don't get into trouble." Partially true. They didn't get into much trouble. Nothing significant or life-changing. Not yet, anyway.

"I'm not worried about it," Rosalyn said, fixing a small sparkling tiara to the base of Patrice's bun. "So…do you like him? From my vantage point, it seems like you like him, but I could be wrong. What's the scoop?"

Patrice groaned. "Mamaaa!" An immediate desire to cover up the truth made her body hot with embarrassment. But something in her mother's knowing smile compelled her to come clean. "Yeah. I do. I like him a lot."

"Ain't no crime in that. It's okay to like a boy. You know your daddy was a boy I liked at one point. We don't expect you not to like anyone. We just want you to be smart. Don't have no babies yet."

"Maaa!"

Rosalyn chuckled at Patrice's teenaged disgust and prepared to pour more on for fun's sake when two knocks rapped against the bedroom door before Leon poked his head inside. He took a sweeping look over his only daughter and smiled. "Look at my little girl. They should be putting you in the children's books, huh?" Patrice said thanks with a small, timid smile before Leon dropped off pressing news. "The Richmond boy and his folks are comin' in. Lookin' like it's time to make your entrance."

"Thank you, Daddy. Can you tell him I'll be out in a little while?"

Leon accepted his marching orders with a nod and smile, then disappeared to entertain the growing swell of voices filling the living room.

Smiling, Rosalyn slid the cape shielding Patrice's glittering dress from debris off her daughter's chest and draped it over her arm. "Alright, pretty girl, it's your show now." She leaned down to press her cheek to Patrice's in a warm display of affection. "Knock his socks off, you hear? He's here to see you. Give him a show."

Give him a show. While Patrice mentally unraveled what that meant, Terry stood in the living room rocking back and forth on his heels and checking his wristwatch for the time. Zorah and Zanah talked on the couch while Junior snuck glances at the two identically beautiful girls and tried to keep the camcorder upright to ensure he didn't get a slap on the back of the head from his mother. Diedra chattered a mile a minute to her husband and good friend, saying something about pictures and keepsakes that Terry didn't care to hear.

He wanted to see Patrice. Weeks of waiting and dreaming every chance he got to let his mind wander came down to the soft tick, tick, tick of his silver link watch as the minute hand turned 5:29 pm into 5:30 pm—showtime.

Terry heard a door close down the hall and listened for the footsteps moving in his direction before looking up to see Mrs. Rosalyn appear in the hallway's threshold. She smiled at him first then addressed the room. "She'll be out in a few. Just grabbing a few last things."

"Oh my Gooood! I can't wait to see her. I know she'll be beautiful!" Diedra clasped her fingers at her chest as if it were her daughter preparing for a grand reveal. "Girls, come over here. I want you to see!"

Zorah and Zanah moaned and groaned about their conversation being cut short but followed directions anyway to avoid what existed on the other side of disobedience. Junior tracked both girls with his eyes until a nervously rocking Terry cut off his sightline. He looked up at the young man confused.

"Why you shakin' like that, Terry," he asked, genuinely unable to fathom why the boy might be nervous. "You seen Patrice a million times."

But not like this. He'd seen her in sweats and a T-shirt or dressed up for school, but not like this. That fact became abundantly clear as her high heels tapped across the hardwood floor, stepping closer to reveal a modern marvel amongst mere pretenders. Whatever he'd dreamed up in the back of classrooms or while tucked in his bedroom at night paled compared to what stood before him.

Shock. Awe. Amazement. Diedra squealed as if the Queen had walked into the room. His twin sisters whistled and gave praise like only pre-teen girls could. Even Junior had to nod in approval to give credit where credit was due.

Terry could only see Patrice in all the noise. The way her dress shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the glass storm door at the front of the house. How her makeup made her look like a movie star in her greatest role to date. Heels helped her legs stand out from the hint of split peeking back at him. Her hair was beautiful, her nails were beautiful, her lips, shoulders, and eyes were beautiful – Patrice was beautiful.

Terry's hand was out beckoning for her hand before he knew what he was doing. "Wow," he breathed out as he gently pulled her closer. He had to will away the urge to know if the gloss coating her lipstick-covered pout had a flavor to say something coherent. "You look…wow."

"You look like Cinderella! It's so cool!" Zanah said the most consecutive words she had spoken in ages at that moment, stunning Marvin.

"Shoot, you really are something! You even got the mean one to talk!"

All in the room laughed, leaving Terry and Patrice to admire each other openly. Patrice straightened the lapel of Terry's tux jacket, then moved on to his bowtie just to have a reason for stepping close enough to smell his cologne.

He looked down at her, peering through thick lashes, and watched her go to work with a smile. Seeing her nervousness comforted him. They could figure things out together.

Patrice smoothed her hands over his shoulders and finally looked up to smile at Terry. "You look really handsome, TJ. Mean it."

"You too." Terry immediately recognized his tongue-tied mistake and rushed to correct course. "I meant you look pretty. Beautiful! I'm sorry. You ready to get out of here?"

They were more than ready. As they stood in front of the Ellis residence, pinning boutonnieres, sliding corsages on dainty wrists, and posing for more photos than they could count, all Patrice and Terry could think about was sliding into the front seat of their chariot for the evening and rolling off toward the sunset. They got their chance 40-odd grueling minutes later once their parents had done all their doting and laid down the rules.

The first stop was dinner. Somehow, good fortune pushed Terry to pick the one Italian restaurant no other prom attendee in the city thought to cram into with their large parties clad in fluffy gowns and starched suits. That foresight got them a free dinner from a lovely Black couple enjoying a Saturday date night.

His foresight also saved them from the disaster of a dinner at the venue once they'd wrapped up their make-believe date night and joined their friends for the last formal night of their high school lives. Luckily, the thrill of dancing and taking Facebook photos on a handheld digital camera removed the need to eat anything life-sustaining.

Together, they sang in each other's faces like maniacs, moved about the dance floor until their feet hurt, and forgot all the cares and problems of tomorrow. The only break came when the Prom King and Queen were announced after dinner service began.

Terry and Patrice watched Corey accept his title like proud parents, recording him on their cell phones while hollering their support from across the room with the rest of the crew. All the work they'd collectively put into his campaign made his triumph feel like a win for the table, not counting Corey's angry date. She stormed off into the hallway moments after an innocent dance between the royal couple went from an innocent sway to Corey reveling in the attention of a young lady with at least six inches of height over him.

The DJ for the night quickly cut "Slow Jam" by Usher and Monica off at a faculty advisor's request once Corey got a little overzealous and transitioned into Chris Brown's "Winner" to invite all who were willing to sway in each other's arms to the dancefloor.

Patrice sat in her chair, watching couples slowly float to the dancefloor. She smiled at nothing in particular and bopped her head to the familiar song. Terry watched her like a hawk, suspended between being mesmerized and the pressure of knowing his time was quickly running out.

Nerves at dinner convinced him to stay mum about his feelings and enjoy Patrice's fun facts about focaccia instead. When he rested his hand on her fingers in the car, and she didn't pull away, he thought about pulling over for his rehearsed speech, but they were already behind schedule. Part of him wanted to whisper how much he loved her into her ear as she pressed her back to his front for official photos. He let the feeling pass, though.

Now, with the center of the dancefloor free for the taking and the time left before his princess needed to be returned to her home dwindling, he took a deep breath and scooched closer to her.

Baby, you're a winner

Didn't even take you twelve rounds to do it

You got the title now

I'mma tell the whole world

To give it up for my girl

"You wanna dance?" Terry meant for the question to sound more confident and less like a creep whispering into his date's ear. So, he scooched even closer, slid his hand around her waist, and tried again. "I'd really love to dance with you. Please."

Patrice turned in her seat to look back at Terry's eyes pleading for the chance to take her out on the floor and felt goosebumps spring up on her forearms. How could she say no to such a perfectly handsome face? She wouldn't if given the chance. "I'm following your lead."

Hand in hand, Terry and Patrice sauntered out into the center of an empty dancefloor, receiving applause and encouragement from people and friends who had caught wind of something special unfolding before them. They ignored the ruckus as best they could while arranging limbs around necks and waists.

If he were being honest with his mind and body, Terry wanted Patrice closer than what school officials would deem appropriate for a sanctioned event. Having his fingers gently grip her sides while they swayed too slow for the music felt like torture, but he persisted for the sake of the moment. He'd have his chances one day soon.

Patrice hoped Terry couldn't feel the wild thump of her pulse against her wrist as they draped near the nape of his neck. Being so close to him, smelling the residual mint of his gum mixed with whatever heavenly fragrance he'd borrowed from his father was enough to send her body into overdrive. So this was what attraction felt like? This was what all the Ebony and Cosmo articles meant when they discussed the scientific responses of women to men and vice versa. This was infatuation, unshakeable physical longing, and…love? Separately, they were manageable symptoms curable by time away and deep breaths. Together, in the confines of the small square they'd created with sync movements, they were too much and threatening to spill over into utterances she wasn't sure she was ready to release.

Terry dragging his thumbs up and down along Patrice's waist snapped her out of a deluge of competing thoughts, forcing her to look up at him. He smiled. "What you thinkin' about?"

"How bad a dancer I am," she joked, allowing self-deprecation to be her scapegoat for the nerves bubbling inside.

"It's not you," he chuckled. "I wasn't really listening to how fast this song is. I just wanted to get you away from everybody else so we could talk."

Patrice tilted her head in curiosity. "About what?"

A quick scan of the immediate area to confirm there were no eavesdroppers or class gossipers helped Terry gather his thoughts. He had plans for something grand, something unforgettable for the rest of their lives. But when he looked back down at her brown eyes, waiting for his next move, he could only confess, "Patrice, I love you."

"I love you, too, Terrence."

For a split second, through the strobing neon lights creating shadows on their faces and hiding actual reactions, Terry thought he could see a flash of connection in Patrice's eyes – a hint of unspoken confirmation that what he'd shared was received in full without explanation.

Patrice hoped he understood the added "I" or the addition of his entire first name to mean what she was too afraid to vocalize beyond a few simple words.

They had more to say and share to ease the weight on their heavy hearts and minds. Things too sacred for the dancefloor, back at the table with their friends, or in the parking lot as everyone loosened their ties, switched out their shoes, and planned to reconvene for the party of the century. So, they left their I Love You's with Chris Brown and darted into the night for sweet treats separate from the group.

Underneath real stars in a dark blue sky, they rambled on, recapping highlights over two cups of fresh churned Oreo ice cream, trying hard not to leave the evidence behind on his father's interior.

"Corey lucky he around all them people, or Jasmine would've kicked his ass," Patrice laughed. "Oh, and did you see Chris and Diamond leave together. I knew they had something going on!"

Terry chewed through a chunk of Oreo and shrugged. "People could say the same about us. Shit, people do say the same about us."

"Yeah, but…this is different. We're friends. Right?"

"We are right now, but…I don't know if I want to stay that way." Growing serious, Terry placed his half-empty cup of ice cream in the cup holder and turned in the driver's seat to face Patrice. He reached for her hand, and, for the second time that night, she didn't pull away. He took it as his sign to proceed. "I meant what I said back there. I love you. As more than my friend."

Patrice nodded, understanding, and tried to wish away the tears pricking her eyes as she smiled. "I know. I did, too. I…I love you."

That spark, the small burst of magic that had fought for centerstage all day, was back and bursting into fireworks above them, daring someone to make a move. Terry took the bait and brought Patrice's knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss. She watched him close his eyes to savor the feeling of her skin on his mouth, thinking of all the ways she'd explain this to Napheesa when they had a moment to debrief.

"I want to be your boyfriend. You know, if… that's cool with you." He chickened out in the end, but the sentiment remained the same. He wanted more than one-armed hugs and childish giggles with Patrice. He wanted a real relationship. As real as it could get for two people at the precipice of adulthood.

Patrice sucked in a deep breath, unsure of how to force an answer through a throat tightening by the second. All she could mutter was a quiet "TJ…"

"It's okay," he smiled. Breaching the center console between them, he leaned to kiss her cheek. Patrice's eyes fluttered closed and reopened in enough time to catch Terry returning to the driver's side, preparing to start the engine. "Just think about it, okay?"

Patrice thought about dating and a wedding, Terry's fingers threaded between hers, his thumb softly caressing her knuckles, the butterflies in her belly, and what it meant to be in love as he drove them through familiar streets. It was all she could think about. It was all she wanted to think about.

Thoughts of finally letting go battled with the fear of what the end may look like and stuck with Patrice as they walked into Corey's "quiet" house party. Neither of them would ever understand how he could convince his parents to allow teenagers around the county to dance, scream, and be merry in their two-story home, but they didn't complain.

Corey was the first to point out their joint arrival and holdholding, only to be shooed away to spread the news amongst the others.

"Phee is in one of the rooms changing, I think. Or fucking with Nate. I don't know what's going on, bro, I'm not gon' lie to you."

Terry shook his head at his friend's antics, then turned to Patrice. "You want a drink or something? Water?"

"Water would be nice," she answered through a broad smile that Terry mirrored. "Can you grab a straw, too? I don't want to mess up my lip gloss."

"Cool. I'll find you."

Only God could pry their hands apart and send Terry on a mission for cold water and straw in a house where he could barely move without bumping into someone. Patrice watched him disappear around a corner before dashing down a hallway for sound counsel.

She opened doors to coat closets, bathrooms, and bedrooms, which were occasionally filled with people sneaking sips of alcohol, but they came up empty. Panic settled into her bones as she frantically asked for Napheesa until some generous partygoer pointed her toward the family sunroom.

There, she found Napheesa sipping something in a red cup and massaging her aching feet like a mother who'd had a long day at work. When she saw Patrice barrel through the threshold, her face brightened. "P! I was -"

"Terry told me he loved me!"

Napheesa choked on air as her eyes bugged out of her head. "What! Wait, wait, wait. Start from the top!"

"We were dancing, and he said he loved me; I said it back because, like, I do love him, right! We say that all the time! You hear it! But then he said it again while we were eating ice cream and asked me to be his girlfriend! Well, really, he asked to be my boyfriend, which is like, somehow more romantic than the other way around, and Napheesa, I don't know what to do! What do I do?"

Patrice spoke a mile a minute, not stopping for breaths or input until she'd unloaded her full stream of consciousness, like word vomit, all over the floor. Napheesa stared blankly and answered matter-of-factly.

"Just say it back." Plain and without flowery language, she offered sage advice. "Say it back. You just said you love him. So, say it back to him. Why are you making this hard? Do you love him?"

"Of course I do!"

Napheesa laughed in confusion. "So say it back, crazy girl! Go ahead. Do it."

"Okay. Alright," Patrice started. "I love Terry. I love him. I love Terrence Richmond. There. I said it." She listened to the words return to her and tried them out again. "I love you, Terry. I love you, Terry. I love you, Terry!"

"See how easy that was? You really need to see somebody about all that worrying, girl. Want me to ask my mama who she goes to?"

Patrice sighed and chuckled away her nerves. "No. I just-"

When Napheesa's eyes flickered up to the sunroom entrance and stayed, Patrice turned around to find Terry caught like a deer in headlights with two cups and a straw in his hand.

"They didn't have bottles, so I just put some ice water in these cups," he announced. "Am I interrupting girl talk? I can come back."

"Nope. I was actually on my way to find Nate and get some water." Napheese looked back at Patrice, winked her encouragement, and then stood to brush past Terry and back into the action. She pulled one cup out of his hand on her way out. "Thanks for the water. See y'all later?"

One cup down and thoroughly annoyed, Terry stepped into the sunroom and took Napheesa's previous spot opposite Patrice. He extended the cup and straw in her direction. "Here. This one's for you. Don't tell Corey I went through his mama's kitchen drawers."

"Your secret's safe with me."

Terry smiled as Patrice mimed a lock motion over her lips. She never dropped her smile or sipped from her cup, striking him as odd. "You okay?" he laughed. "Why you smiling so hard? Did Napheesa say something about me?"

She shook her head no but answered, "Yes!"

"Yes, what?" Terry questioned, confusion knitting his brows together.

Patrice placed her cup on the ground and grabbed both his hands, threading their fingers together like he did in the car. He gripped them tighter, looking into her eyes like they held all the answers.

"Yes, you can be my boyfriend. Because…I really, really want to be your girlfriend. You know…if that's cool with you."

Shock kept Terry glued to his seat, disconnecting his body from a mind turning somersaults in triumph. Patrice watched in amusement as his eyes darted across her face before he shot up and pulled her along for the ride.

They'd hugged each other plenty of times – to say goodbye and hello, for comfort when the other was feeling down, to be close for no reason at all – but they'd never embraced as more than friends. Patrice had never experienced how good it felt to be fully wrapped in his arm and pressed into a heart beating with love for her. Terry didn't know how having Patrice wrap herself around him would trigger a desire to shower her in never-ending affection.

Terry tried the feeling on for size, pulling away to kiss her cheek and then her forehead. "I love you." If given the chance, he could say it a million more times.

"I love you, too." Easy enough. Practice would make perfect, and Patrice was ready to put in the work.

An unseen force, the same magnetism from their shared Christmas joy in Patrice's bedroom months ago, pulled them closer for another go at a kiss they'd been putting off for far too long.

Eyes blinked closed. Tongues ran across lips to moisten them for an eventual meeting. Hands tried to wander south and close the gap between their hips. All their pining and preparation had come down to one mo-

"Hell yeah, P! Kiss your man!"

"Terry! Terry! Terry!"

"I knew it! They almost kissed on the dancefloor, too!"

Thwarted again. A small crowd of familiar faces had gathered at the threshold, excited to see their favorite pair finally go the distance. Embarrassed, Patrice hid her face inside Terry's suit jacket, and he wrapped his arms around her as an act of protection.

Laughing, he tried to shoo the onlookers away. "Man, get out of here! Y'all ain't ever heard of privacy?"

"Nigga, this my house! Ain't no privacy," Corey laughed. "Go ahead and kiss. This everybody moment! We been waiting forever!"

The small group agreed, but Patrice wasn't interested in the spectacle. She pulled away from Terry, slid her hand in his, and began leading them out of the room. "And you'll wait some more. This ain't a damn zoo! I thought we were here to have fun!"

They were. And they did. Disappointment quickly faded, making room for more singing, dancing, and aching feet into the late hours of the night.

Patrice had long ditched her heels for flats, extending the life of her party animal personal until a quick glance at a perfectly positioned wall clock indicated a quarter til midnight. She roughly pried Terry's drifting hands, trying to pull her backside closer to his front from her waist, and hurried him back to the car in hopes he could make up the distance with some expert driving.

Both of them prayed all patrol units were busy elsewhere as Terry guided them down empty streets and quiet neighborhood rows to return Rosalyn and Leon's precious cargo by midnight. Terry pulled into Patrice's driveway, cutting time dangerously close, opened the passenger door in a flash, and hurried her to the front door like the Secret Service escorting the president.

He watched Patrice shuffle through her purse for the housekey, wondering if now was a good time to return to that kiss. "Patrice, can I -"

"Found it! I really need to put this on a ring." She looked up at Terry and smiled. "I'm sorry, what were you gonna say?"

Terry shook his head free of previous plans and settled for a kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Treece. I'll text you when I'm home."

"Good night, TJ." Patrice looked at the light turn on in the living room through the glass panels on the front door, then back at Terry. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Go ahead. Don't get in trouble."

A blown kiss and one more wave sent Patrice back into her humble abode and Terry to his horse and carriage for the night. As he backed out of the driveway, looking both ways for traffic that would never come, he noticed the heel of forgotten shoes in his back seat.

Terry smiled to himself, recalling the story of the dazzling beauty and her lost slipper. Luckily, he didn't have to scour the city looking for the beautiful belle of the ball that stole his heart. He knew where to his Cinderella.

------

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22 @kaylalb @literallegendicon @dee-deelovesyouu @drdimplesj

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x black oc #rebel ridge #rebel ridge au

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shmalk · 1 year ago

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Part 3 for immortal!reader? Can be last chapter, just wanna see Ghost and Soap reaction. Price just explaining or still laughing his off or Gaz just passing out from too much shock.

"sorry for getting shot guys"

"how- what- huh?" Soap stammering.

Ghost still has his hands around Price's collar, Price was still chuckling, cigar on the floor, never belly-laughing this hard before.

Gaz staring at the reader, face paling before his does the cartoon faint, his legs going in the air while his hat flipped before falling.

Reader just staring like it was the norm (probably because it was for her/him)

no one reacts. its quiet, you can't help but awkwardly swallow and rub your throat slightly.

you can hear price sighing, obviously he knew you weren't going to stay dead, but it was still something you weren't overly fond of experiencing.

you felt some pain- but it was mostly none, after all, it wasn't as though you didn't die, you just didn't stay dead.

gaz swallows before his eyes roll into the back of his head, falling backwards and landing on his back, staring up at the sun. you give him a worried glance, but your muscles are still stiff, so you opt for just slightly calling out to him.

you don't get to, however, as someone's gloved hands grasp your face in their hands. you can hear soap as he slams price against the post once more, but your attention is taken away by ghost.

"what the fuck was that," he all but growls, his voice low and gravely, sending still shocks through your chest. "you didn't think to tell us about yer' little fuckin' stunt, huh?"

you swallow, reaching up to grab his wrist. soap moves from wherever he's standing and you vaguely see a figure attending to gaz. "look at me."

ghost isn't happy, the bile that threatened to rise out of his throat had setteld, but now theres steam practically flowing from his ears, theres a ringing he can't shake and his heart is pounding so hard he wonders if you could hear it.

"lighten up, lieutenant." price speaks as ghost loosens his grip on your head, letting out a puff of air through his nose. "they were given strict orders not to reveal anything until told otherwise, or during an emergency."

"captain, i don't think being upset with me counts as an emergency-"

"when i make a decision, you're supposed to trust that i'm making the right one," price isn't mad, but you're not interested in listening to him after he basically tried to kill you.

"Ye cannae ask us tae trust ye when ye've jist shot someone in the heid, cap'n."

"i'll ask whatever i bloody please, soap." price fixes his vest before turning away, not storming, but definitely walking somewhere with slightly more anger than usual.

"yer aight, pet?" soap gives you a once over, not able to look you in the eyes, before he gets shiver up his spine and has to walk away to cool himself down.

gaz - in the middle of the commotion - had been picked up and taken to the infirmary, leaving you.

and ghost.

h u h ?? im so sorry for the horrible scottish accent soap has I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO WRITE IT VERY WELL.

do we like? do we not like?? what will ghost do?? HMM??

#john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #shmalk ! ᧔♡᧓ #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #141 x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #immortal!reader #monster!reader

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porcelaintoybox23 · 2 years ago

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One of the darkest aspects of atsv is how Gwen was groomed. When Jess and Miguel took her in, I got "vibes," so to speak. The trailers obviously didn't help, but those painted Miguel in a bad light, unlike Jess.

Gwen, a 15-16 year old, goes with these two in the heat of a tense moment. I don't think anyone had ill intentions, but that doesn't negate the results.

I was shocked when we learned that Gwen hadn't gone home in months. Jess and Miguel become her whole world and take on the roles of her parental figures. In this time, she has become emotionally dependent on them and their approval. Gwen is scared to disappoint them. She's threatened with being returned to her dimension with no support, a place where last anyone saw, her father was trying to arrest her for murder.

Jess uses Gwen's admiration and dependence to manipulate her. She knows Gwen fears letting her down. She goes from being smiley and supportive to blunt and cold.

Gwen is scared. Whether they intended to or not, Miguel and Jess essentially groomed and emotionally abused her. The second she justifiably makes a mistake or just acts like a normal teen who lacks interpersonal relationships, they send her home.

At any point did they try to help Gwen reconcile with her dad? What did they tell her so she'd be fine with her father dying?

I know the dictionary definition is more of a nsfw nature, but I do believe it can occur in just a manipulative manner. They took in a vulnerable child, manipulated her, and threw her out.

Her whole arc reads like a kid disowned for coming out.

Note: I'm a black woman. It's not my job to make you guys feel comfortable with a clearly uncomfortable topic. Complain to the studio who wrote the film. I no longer argue with people who assume the worst of my posts or misinterpret what I painstakingly try to clarify. I don't care. It's my post, and I shall delete and block whoever I want. I'm not the government.

Like it or not, Jess and Miguel, grown adults, take a child with them. They are responsible for her. That is how that works. POC aren't free from criticism. POC can be evil to white women. This is a fictional movie, bitch to the studio who made them the obvious bad guys.

Thank you 😊

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #spider gwen #spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spider woman #jessica drew #spiderman 2099 #cw grooming mention

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bunbun-mochi · 5 months ago

Text

Mischievous II

Luke and Kieran, Ft. Sylus x MC (pre marriage)

Warning: Just pure fluff. Swearing. Lots of swearing. Luke and Kieran almost died this time(exaggerating)

Word Count: 717, no proofreading

Preview: Luke and Kieran stole their boss's phone to help MC reschedule her date with Sylus... Spoilers, it did not end well.

Luke and Kieran were outside the meeting office. They lounged on the sofa, trying to pass the time until both of their phones dinged at the same time.

Luke pulls out his phone and Kieran reads the message over his shoulder. There's only one person who would message them both at the same time and at this hour. MC.

"She's complaining about her day," Kieran said.

"Yea, I can read." Luke rolled his eyes.

"Ask her if she wants to hang with us," Kieran suggested and Luke nodded in agreement.

MC:

Sorry, I have a date with Sylus.

"Aww," Luke and Kieran said in unison.

"Truly a shame," Luke said.

"Bet she wanna hang with us instead of boss," Kieran said.

Then Luke and Kieran looked at each other. "She definitely wants to hang with us more," They said in unison.

When they got home, it was dusk. However, it's hard to tell in the N109 zone as it's typically always dark. Sylus placed his phone on the coffee table and left for his room to get ready for his date with MC.

Once his door closed, Luke rushed toward the phone.

"Quick, tell me the passcode."

"Uh, uh, try 1234," Kieran answered.

A pause and Luke looked at Kieran. "Seriously?"

"four ones?"

"You think boss has that of an easy passcode."

"Try MC's birthday."

Luke nodded, "that could work."

And it did.

Both Luke and Kieran looked at each other, surprised.

"That's easier than I thought," Luke said. He found the message app and sent a message to MC.

Sylus:

Sorry, I can't make it to the date tonight.

"He says sweetie," Kieran added.

Then Luke added

Sylus:

Sweetie

"Does he send emojis?" Kieran asked.

Luke shrugged. "Probably."

Sylus:

(｡•́︿•̀｡)

(ಥ﹏ಥ)

(╥_╥)

(┳Д┳)

"Stop sending it! Boss definitely doesn't send that many emoticons!" Kieran snatched the phone from Luke.

Sylus:

Luke took my phone and sent all those emoticons.

"You told me to send them!" Luke snatched the phone back.

"No, I asked if he sends emoji! You said probably and proceeded to send like four!" Kieran snatched the phone back.

Both Luke and Kieran now have a shouting match, snatching the phone back and forth.

Unbeknownst to them, they accidentally sent a speech-to-text message.

Sylus:

You told me to send them no I said if he sends emoji probably proceed to send four. fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck go to hell should've ate you in the womb fuck you fuck food you you you you you you you you I'll knock you down fuck you you dumb ass bitch fuck shit you

The bedroom door flung open and a deep threatening voice filled the house, "What in the hell are you two shouting about."

Sylus looked at Luke and Kieran, both holding his phone on each end, doing a tug of war.

"Why do you have my phone?"

Luke and Kieran quickly let go of the phone and realized the phone going to hit the floor, both proceeded to try and grab the phone only to hit their head at each other. Both double down in pain, holding their foreheads. The phone still hit the floor.

Sylus walked toward the twins and picked up his phone. He unlocks the phone only to be met with a surprise message that he supposedly sent.

Sylus glowered at the twins and showed them his messages with MC. "What is the meaning of this."

Both Luke and Kieran read the message and gulped.

"We were trying to help MC," Luke said.

"She was feeling down," Kieran started.

"So we decided to cheer her up." Luke finished.

"By sending her a rescheduled date, emojis, and cursed words?" Sylus glared.

"Technically, it's emoticons-" Kieran didn't even finish his sentence when they felt the room dropped several degrees.

"We can fix this," Luke quietly said.

"You have 1 hour," Sylus warned. "One. Hour."

Luke and Kieran frantically nodded their head and bolted. They need to get to Linkon fast.

Sylus smirked slightly as he unlocked his phone to check the message his kitten had sent after Luke and Kieran left for Linkon.

MC:

Sylus, did you fall down the stairs?

Sylus chuckled. His kitten never ceases to entertain him.

I laughed while writing this. Hope you guys enjoy it.

dividers, templates, headers, and banners are from @uzmacchiato

#luke and kieran #lads sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #sylus fluff #qin che #sylus fic

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redhoodsdeer · 3 months ago

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hiii I really love ur writing I eat it up everytimee ❤️❤️❤️😍😍😛

I was wondering if I could request a Jason Todd like thingy where reader is new to Gotham and she doesnt know her boyfriend (jason) is red hood or who he is really . And one night he just passes out straight in bed without even thinking about his suit and helmet and reader wakes up to this masked man in her bed and is like screaming and being like “wtf who the hell are you” “my bf is huge and he’ll fuck you up” and calling Jason and stuff and he’s just like tf?

Ik this request is like all over the place but I just randomly had this cute idea and I thought you’d eat it up 😍

thankkk uu ❤️❤️❤️

rough night (aka civil!reader x vigilante bf jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: where jason still keeps being a vigilante a secret from you, and you continue to be clueless that your boyfriend is red hood, until one rough night he forgets something a little important.

a/n: omg hi! i'm so happy with your request, sorry that it take so long, but here it is, i love how your mind work btw, hope you like it, i actually don't think my writing is good on this one, but the prompt is amazing! feel free to send requests!

It was a particularly calm night, at least for you, who had already done your bedtime routine, and were curled up in the couch with your favorite book, waiting for your boyfriend.

You watched on the news that there was a chasing, but this is Gotham, there is always a chasing on the news, you may not have lived here for long, but you are used to the special way of the city, fights, deaths and crimes that flooded the city on an ordinary weekday.

As much as you enjoyed waiting for your boyfriend to get home, so you could go to bed with him, he was pretty late today, and it was already late night, sleep was starting to overtake you, the book slowly becoming less interesting and more hazy, finally making you decide it was time to go to bed.

Now, even though Gotham is a dangerous city, and more than anything, unexpected, you definitely didn't expect that on a cool tuesday night you would walk into your room in your pretty pajamas and comfortable robe and find a huge vigilante lying on your bed, comfortable, as if he lived there his whole life.

And no one can blame you that your first reaction was to scream, scream for your life, while the book falls from your hand, you were in complete shock, the vigilante waking up confused as he looks around and finds you wrapped in your pink robe looking absolutely terrified.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment? How did you get into my fucking apartment?" she said frantically as tears began to well up in your eyes as you grabbed the closest thing to you, to defend yourself, which turned out to be the lamp on your nightstand.

And the man lying in your bed looks just as confused as you do, even more, his head tilted to the side, you can't see through the intimidating red helmet, but you're sure if you could, you'd see a huge question mark hanging on his face.

"What do you mean who the hell am I? Have you lost your mind, honey?" And it wasn't until his voice came out modified by the modulator that Jason realized he was still in his full uniform, including his helmet, which explained his girlfriend's complete panic upon seeing him.

"Look, my boyfriend is going to be here any minute, and he's huge and he's going to beat the hell out of you, so please leave."

The words might have been intended to be threatening, but they lost their effect almost instantly when he knew that the boyfriend she was referring to was the one lying on the bed being threatened at that moment, and also by the tears he desperately wanted to wipe from your face.

And, as Gotham is the city of the unexpected, the unexpected happens, and the huge vigilante lying on your bed starts laughing, but not a threatening laugh, or a shy little giggle, he starts to really laugh, the kind of laugh that you throw your head back for laughing so hard, while slowly removing the helmet from his head.

And when your beloved boyfriend reveals himself, the lamp in your hand slowly lowers as your lips part in pure shock.

"Jason? What the hell is going on right now?"

She said while still holding the lamp, and looked at him more confused than ever, and the once scary and threatening vigilante stands up and wraps you in a hug, while you remain in complete shock.

"Did you have any intention to tell me about this at some point?"

Your mind, still recovering from the shock, manages to elaborate and ask, while you return the hug, as tight as you can, still shaking from finding out that your boyfriend is the fucking Red Hood.

"Honey, I'm so sorry, I swear I was going to tell you, I just didn't know if you were going to be ready to hear it, and if you would still be with me after you found out."

"If you would still see me the same way, you would love me the same way"

And now your shock is for a completely different reason, as you pull away from his embrace softly, your brows furrowed in pure indignation.

"Are you kidding me right now? Jason I would love you and be with you even if you were the fucking Batman."

And a comforting smile appears on your face, as you, on your tiptoes, hold his face in your hands as if he was the most precious thing in the world, and for you, he was.

"Jay, I love you regardless of any of this, if you're a secret vigilante at night, your secrets or anything else, because I love you for who you are and I need you to know that."

And now the bright tears in your eyes were for a completely different reason, you just didn't expect him to think that way, when right there in front of you is the man you loved the most in the world.

"God, what did I do to deserve someone like you?" he murmurs into your hair as you're wrapped around each other, you guiding him towards the comfortable bed.

"I ask myself that every day, Jay."

And now, with no secrets and curled up comfortably in each other, as it should be, he whispers to you.

"About that Batman thing, we need to talk."

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #jason todd thoughts #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #batfam #batfamily #batman #red hood dc #dc jason todd #jason todd dc #dc universe #dc comics #jason todd titans

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httpswritings · 1 year ago

Text

jealous girl

alexia putellas x reader [+ jana fernandez]; around 900 words; not really angst, just reader being dumb about jana and alexia's friendship.

You were not a jealous girl, not at all, because you thought jealousy was nothing but a waste of time.

As a family member, as a friend and as a girlfriend, you were very easygoing with the people you loved.

That's why when you felt an unfamiliar envious sensation when it came to Alexia's friendship with Jana, you felt quite lost.

Alexia was very dear to you.

She had been your football “big” sister since you were very young, always making sure you were alright.

You were such a talented girl, always playing at an advanced level compared to girls your age, like Jana, Pina, and Bruna."

That's why you had always been so close with Alexia.

There weren't any girls' your age around, and she felt very comfortable to be with.

The time passed by, and you weren't the youngest one in the team anymore.

It took you some time to adjust, but nothing to worry about.

Jana was a very happy and loving girl.

She was very talkative and always willing to help anyone.

That's why you were deeply upset with yourself for feeling such a horrible emotion towards someone like Jana.

Alexia noticed something was off with you, but she couldn't get you to speak about it.

She didn't insist anymore and hugged you.

Her hugs were very comforting, and you felt like your eight-year-self after hugging her.

She was around when you fell playing and hurt your ankle.

Alexia rushed to hold you and shushed you until you calmed down.

Since that day, you created a very beautiful bond not only with her but with her family, including her sister Alba.

You thought that Alba could feel threatened because Alexia was giving you a lot of attention, but she was very excited to have you as a friend, even insisting Eli to half-adopt you when both of you were still young girls.

The days passed by, and it was very obvious that you were annoyed by something.

Alexia wanted to give you some space during training, so she paired up with Jana.

You were infuriated by her movement, the worst part being that you were behaving like a child, and not like a twenty two-year-old woman.

You paired up with Frido.

She was very sweet and patient, but you were getting on her nerves.

You excused yourself and headed to the changing room.

You had told Torre and Jona that you were going to leave early, and you'd catch up tomorrow.

Alexia realized you were missing, and she didn't waste time in pairing Jana with Frido.

You were on your way home when she began calling and messaging you.

Ale <3

Amor, is everything okay?

Ale <3

Torre told me you weren't feeling okay.

You felt awful for not responding to her, but it was better than telling her: It's actually because I'm jealous about my teammate because my best friend is not spending all her time with me.

Alexia went to your house and still got no response.

Ale <3

Please, open the door 🙁

Ale <3

I can take care of you if you're sick

Ale <3

I just want to know if you're alright

Ale <3

Please, I'm very worried 😔 😢😥

You smiled when you saw the emojis.

You loved to tease Alexia about the amount of emojis she would send.

You stood up and opened the door, and Alexia's face broke your heart.

Her eyes were teary and she was visibly upset.

“Tell me what's wrong, please.”

You hugged her and lost yourself in her arms.

She was the big sister you never had.

You never knew what sisterly love was until you met Alexia, and then Alba.

Did you overreact? Definitely.

You had to be a grownup, whatever was wrong with you was not an excuse to leave training early.

“You're going to laugh—”

“I'm won't. Please, tell me what's wrong.”

You sighed, prepared to be laughed at.

“I missed you. I've been very jealous of Jana because I've felt replaced. I know it's childish and embarrassing, but it's what it is.”

Instead, you received a punch on the arm, not too hard but enough to surprise you.

“Have you gone mad? I thought something had happened to you. Like I was prepared to fight anyone at this point.”

You couldn't look Alexia into her eyes.

Alexia, having calmed down, started to laugh as you tried to escape of her embrace.

“Alexia, fuck off. You told me you were not going to laugh.”

“I'm laughing because you're very adorable. I love Jana, but you're my best friend. Alba would kill me if she knew how you had been feeling.”

“Alexia, this is ridiculous. I'm supposed to be mature, at least a little bit.”

“For me, it's not ridiculous. I'd be fuming if you replaced me with someone else. I've told you before: you'll always be my little football sister. No matter if you're eight or fifty years old. There's nothing nor no one who will be able to change that.”

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader

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vintageneptune92 · 3 months ago

Text

Falling

Rafael Barba Imagine

This is a one-shot request from @choosejoyangel (for some reason it’s not letting me tag you.) with the prompt “There’s a leaf in your hair”

I hope you like it!

I did try to keep it gender neutral, but I didn’t edit this so it may not be 100% This is now gender neutral once I got a chance to edit it.

"Detective...this way." The officer led you deep into the woods as you absentmindedly put your hand on your gun. Under normal circumstances you would never let anyone lead you into the woods alone. Before becoming an SVU Detective you would have jokingly asked if he was taking you to where they buried the bodies. Here in the now? This officer was leading you to exactly where they buried the bodies.

It seemed like you had been walking for hours, perhaps it was because you knew exactly what you were being led to. You took a deep breath when you saw the clearing coming closer, wishing you'd be in the safety of the trees just a little bit longer. The scene you came upon was chaotic.

There were 12 graves that had been dug up. 12 young women buried in a perfect circle. The number meant something to the killer, you just weren't sure what that was yet. As you walked over to the grave that seemed the freshest, you took a look under the sheet and felt like you had gotten the wind knocked out of you. Another girl that you couldn't save.

It was a story you had heard too many times. She had been in and out of the system as a child. Father was gunned down, mother in and out of prison. She had been turned out and trafficked at 15. You had managed to save her from that horrible fate. She had stayed in touch. You had cheered her on as she got her GED and was now in Community College. She had been one that had truly gotten out.

Yet, it didn't seem that they ever really got out. There was a desperation that clung to them that made them easy prey. This young woman's desperation attracted a different kind of predator. One that threw you away when he was done with you. You hadn't heard from her in a month and so you went looking for her and her apartment was empty. Her friends hadn't seen her. She had died scared and alone, of that you were sure. At least the girls here were together when they were laid to rest.

You had become desensitized to many things. This job did that to you. You can't go day in and day out seeing the worst humanity has to offer without developing an apathetic sheild. This case seemed to find the tiny crack in yours and threatened to take the whole thing down.

"I told you not to come." Amaro came over to you. You were squatting down next to her body, pinching the bridge of your nose. He had been the first detective on the scene. Someone had been making their way through, saw what looked like a fresh grave and had alerted police and down the line it went until it was handed over to SVU. You had heard what was found, Nick had told you they had enough hands on deck and that he would send over any tips for you to follow up on. You were possibly more stubborn than he was.

"I had to. I had to see her." Amaro helped you to stand up.

"Listen, we have it covered here. CSU is doing their thing. Why don't you go update Barba with what we found." You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you headed out of the scene, you didn't have it in you to stay there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you got to the ADA's office, his door was open and Carmen wasn't at her desk so you knocked on the open door as you walked in to announce your arrival. Barba, by far, had been the best prosecutor you'd ever worked with. His sarcasm had definitely endeared him to you. He was a great verbal sparring partner. You would rather die than admit you had feelings for him. Feeling anything opened up the door to let in all of the feelings, so you stuffed that down with the rest of them.

"Detective?" He looked you up and down, he knew something was off. You rarely ever knocked on his door, you just walked in like you owned the place. Carmen had stopped trying to stop you, mostly because he didn't want her to stop you. You looked at him but didn't say anything. He stood up, brow furrowed as he walked over to you.

"Did you take a jump in the leaves on your way over? I'm sure whoever rakes them up is thrilled to have to do it again."

"What?" You hadn't heard a word he had said. He reached his hand up and pulled something gently out of your hair.

"There was a leaf in your hair, and I made a really lame attempt at a joke..." his voice trailed off. Something wasn't just off, something was wrong.

"I don't think I can do this anymore." He watched as your eyes filled with tears, which was alarming because he had never seen you tear up over anything. He shut his office door and led you over to the couch by your arm to sit down.

"Can't do what anymore?"

"This job. I mean what is the point? Do we every really save anyone? There is just one more depraved monster lurking behind the one we just took down. No one is safe. Safety is a lie we tell ourselves to get out the door in the morning. There are so many terrible things in this world, why do we bother fighting?" He blinked a few times, trying to think of what he should say next. This was not you.

"You can't save everyone. You know that, we all know that. But to say you don't ever really save anyone? You know that isn't true. You help take some of the worst examples of humanity off the streets. You may not always save the initial victim, but you save countless from becoming them." He was begging you to hear him. You wiped an almost escapes tear from the corner of your eye.

"So they can just be annihilated by another monster."

"What happened?" He urged for more information. You closed your eyes as you described the scene. A perfect formation of 12 graves with correlating bodies covered right next to them. CSU combing the scene for any shred of evidence. Dogs barking in the background as they searched for any other possible burial grounds. You saved her for last. He remembered her, of course he did. You had worked so hard with her to prep for trial, getting her through withdrawals from the drugs she used to self medicate, getting her set up with a real chance at a future. He didn't know what it was about this particular victim. You typically kept them at arms length. You were excellent with dealing with victims, helping them, but you never really let them in. You had clear boundaries. You didn't let them touch your life, except this one.

"When I talked to her last, she had made Dean's list. She was so excited. We were going to make plans for lunch or dinner, but then another case came that consumed me. When I finally realized how long it had been since I had heard from her, I tried calling. I went to her apartment, her landlord let me in and I could tell she hadn't been there in a while. You can always tell, you know? There was a stillness. The friends she had made hadn't heard from her or seen her. I went to the restaurant where she waits tables and there had been some guy that came in just to see her. Her made her uncomfortable, from what they said, but nothing she couldn't handle. Then she stopped showing up. Raf, I thought she got hooked on drugs again. I should have known better."

He caught the slip. You never called him Raf at work. Only if they happened to be getting a drink or something to eat, when they talked about anything other than what they had to deal with at work.

"How could you have known? We both know the chances of relapsing. Anyone else would go that route first."

"It's been a month since I spoke to her. What if there is no evidence?"

"Don't do this to yourself. This is not your fault. We will find him. Someone with that many victims? There will be something once they start getting IDs."

"I try so hard to not let this all get to me. It's gut wrenching, every day. I don't know how not to feel this anymore. I don't think there is much more room in Pandora's box." He studied your profile for a moment, brushing his knuckle over your cheek. When you didn't flinch away he put his arm around you and you turned into him.

"You can't block out every feeling and you certainly cannot stuff them down. They always come back to the surface, when you need them the least. Worst of all, you push out any good feelings too." The warmth of him was soothing. After that scene, you didn't know if you would ever feel warm again. You let the scent of his cologne invade your senses soothing you.

"I know." You finally acquiesced. "I've blocked out something really good too." You wanted him to take you away from all of this. Maybe keeping him outside of that cracked armor was a mistake.

"You can grieve her, but you can't let it consume you. I know that you cared about her, but it's not on you." Your body deflated against him. A few tears fell from your eyes and onto his hand. "Hey...hey..." he turned more towards you and tilted your head so he could see your face. He wiped your tears away. "We will find whoever did this and I will put him away for the rest of his life, okay?" She nodded.

"I need to get back to the precinct and see if there are any updates." He helped you stand up.

"Meet me later? The usual?" It just hit you that you had a usual. You nodded. He was still holding onto you from helping you up. He pulled you into a hug. You stood there for a moment escaping in him for just a little bit longer before slowly pulling yourself from his arms.

"Yeah, that would nice. I'll let you know if I hear anything in the meantime." He nodded and didn't take his eyes off of you as you walked out of his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had gone home and showered. Liv had made you leave early. They had a metric ton of evidence to process. She had been there before. Every once in a while, a victim gets under your skin.

You had changed into your favorite outfit, wanting to feel comfortable in your own skin. When you walked into the restaurant, he was already there, typing furiously on his cellphone with a scotch next to him. You stopped and just watched him for a moment. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked up and gave you a smile. You felt yourself smile back at him and went and sat down, your favorite drink waiting for you.

"Well look at you." It felt like his eyes were burning through you. "Feeling a little better?" You nodded.

"You know Liv. I swear she stays in therapy so she can therapize the rest of us." He laughed.

"You're probably right. The Sergeant is a wise one. She's done it for me a few times too."

"I find that hard to believe Counselor. Don't you have the answer to everything?" You teased. Being with him just made things better. He made the emptiness inside you disappear. His eyes twinkled a little when he took a sip of his scotch, a smile pulling at his lips.

"Careful Detective, sounds like you're admitting I know everything." You rolled your eyes at him. He had put away his phone to put his focus on you. His arm was stretched out across the table. You took a long sip of your drink and then placed your hand near his so your fingers brushed he immediately took a hold of your hand and brushed his thumb over your knuckles. When you didn't pull away again, he spoke again.

"Do you want to know what she's been helping me with?" The intensity of his look left you speechless, so you nodded.

"How to get the person I love to open themselves up to me because I am pretty confident they feel the same." His eyes were locked on yours, boldness radiating from him.

"And what..." you cleared your throat. "What did she say?" Your voice went up awkwardly at the end.

"That I should stop being stupid and postponing joy because life is too short. Also to make sure I disclose. She was very adamant about that." You felt your mouth go completely dry. His fingers laced with yours. "What do you think of Liv's advice."

"It's um...good advice." What happened today, was eye opening to you. You needed more than just your job. You were walking through life numb and you didn't want to be that person anymore.

"Are you just going to leave me hanging?" His hand, still laced in yours, his thumb rubbing acrossed a small patch of skin sent electricity through your body.

"I...I have been living my life half alive going through the motions to keep myself numb. The only time I ever feel whole is when I'm with you. I look for you, in any room. How do you even have to ask?"

"I need to hear you say it." Your confession had hit him in a profound way, yet he still needed those three words. He watched as you downed the rest of your drink. He wasn't going to push you. He knew you needed some time, it was a big ask, especially having it sprung on you.

"I love you too Rafael, of course I love you too." He released your hand and stood up, which confused you for a moment.

"Are you coming?" He stood, waiting for you to get out of your seat. You nodded and stood up, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar. You had essentially been in a relationship without a label. Dinner after a long day. Drinks after a hard case. Late night chats when you couldn't sleep. Texts throughout the day checking in.

You walked in silence, hand in hand. You knew he was leading you to his apartment so you could have the privacy you both craved. Before you knew it, you were outside your door and he was unlocking it.

Once inside, he descended on you. When his lips connected with yours, it was like someone lit a fire inside of you. His hand on the side of your neck, his other hand slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. You had one hand on the knot of his tie, the other weaving into the hairs on the back of his head.

His lips traveled down your jawline and down your neck. His lips slowly trailed back up and then his tongue was snaking back into your mouth. You couldn't believe you waited this long to do this. That you had denied yourself this feeling of being a complete person.

He finally had to break the kiss to catch his breath, wresting his forehead against yours. The hand that was holding his tie slid down his chest and inside his jacket to rest on his back.

"I'm sorry...I just have been wanting to do that for so long. Once I knew, I couldn't hold myself back."

"I wasn't exactly protesting." You saw him smile, his hand running down the side of your body gripping your hip.

"I...I don't want to pressure you." He whispered. You captured his lips in yours again and pulled him flush against you. You felt him groan into your mouth, once you had to catch your breath again, he took your hand. "C'mon..." he pulled you further into his apartment. You knew at that moment you would follow him for the rest of your life. You had wasted enough time.

#rafael barba #law and order svu imagine #rafael barba imagine #svu #rafael barba x detective #law and order svu #svu imagine #rafael barba x reader

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kenzdolls · 25 days ago

Note

Ok, i read ur rules! And say in ur master list that you do mha? If you still do mha, (idk if this is ok to ask) but can you do some fluff + angst with bakugo x fem! Reader, where she has a black magic quirk, and from a very early age she’s heard voices in her head. And they stop for a bit but she heard them agian and freaks out! So bakugo notices shes veeery quiet and asks her whats wrong and she spills the truth about her quirk and how if she over uses it she hears voices telling her to do bad things(NOTHING SERIOUS)

Bakugo and reader have a sorta friendship but with something going on between them? (Mutual pinning)

I HOPE THIS IS OK!!! I read ur rules and i hope this isnt violating them 🙏😭

don’t worry it isn’t lmao! but I’d love to do this so tysm for sending this in! so without further ado. . . enjoy ദ്ദി(•̀ ᗜ <) !!

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𖤐 synopsis: your quirk makes you different from others..you hear voices that give you malicious thoughts. but, your “friend” bakugou katsuki helps you silence them and explore both of your unspoken feelings for each other.

𖤐 trigger warnings: references to intrusive thoughts, mild psychological distress.

𖤐 pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

𖤐 side note: - - > 2nd part of this story

the voices had been quiet for months. you'd almost forgotten what it was like to have that constant background noise—the whispers that came with your quirk. black magic, they called it. the ability to manipulate shadows and dark energy, bending them to your will. it was powerful, useful even, especially during hero training at u.a.

but the cost was something no one else could see.

use us… we can make you stronger…

the first whisper came during lunch period. you froze mid-bite, your chopsticks hovering over your bento box as the familiar, slithering voice wrapped around your mind.

let us in… just a little more power…

"shut up," you muttered under your breath, closing your eyes tightly.

"the hell did you just say to me?"

your eyes snapped open to find bakugou katsuki standing over your lunch table, his crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion. of course, he'd choose now to approach. the two of you had this… thing. not quite friends, definitely not enemies. training partners who somehow always ended up paired together. late night study sessions that lasted longer than necessary. hands that lingered a second too long when passing notes.

"not you," you said quickly, heat rising to your cheeks. "sorry, i was just—"

he'll think you're crazy if you tell him. everyone always does.

"just what?" bakugou dropped into the seat across from you, his lunch tray clattering against the table. "you've been acting weird all morning. more than usual."

you managed a weak smile. "didn't know you paid such close attention, explosion boy."

he scoffed, but you didn't miss the slight pink tinge on his ears. "hard not to notice when you're spacing out during combat training. you nearly got yourself blasted."

you had almost forgotten about that. earlier in the day, during all might's class, you'd hesitated just a moment too long when the voices first started whispering again. bakugou had pulled his punch at the last second, his explosion detonating harmlessly to your left instead of directly in your face.

he's waiting for an answer. lie. lie.

"i'm fine," you said automatically, the rehearsed response you'd been giving teachers and classmates for years whenever the voices got bad.

bakugou’s eyes narrowed further. "bullshit."

the cafeteria around you buzzed with activity, your classmates laughing and chatting, oblivious to your internal struggle. kirishima and the others had left bakugou alone for once, perhaps sensing he had other plans for lunch period.

he'll leave you too when he knows the truth.

"i said i'm fine," you insisted, pushing your food away. your appetite had vanished the moment the voices returned.

bakugou leaned forward, his voice dropping to a growl that somehow managed to be both threatening and concerned at the same time. "you think i don't notice when something's off with you? we've been training together for months. i know when you're lying."

you stared at him, taken aback by his perceptiveness. it was easy to dismiss bakugo as just an aggressive hothead, but you'd learned there was so much more beneath that explosive exterior. he noticed things. he paid attention.

tell him… see how quickly he runs…

the voice was getting louder, more insistent. you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to block it out.

"hey." bakugou’s voice softened marginally—as much as bakugou katsuki could soften anything. "let's get out of here."

before you could protest, he had grabbed both your bags and was heading for the exit, clearly expecting you to follow. and despite everything, you did.

he led you to the rooftop, a quiet spot where few students ventured during lunch. the spring air was cool against your skin, helping to clear your head slightly.

"talk," he demanded, dropping his bag and leaning against the railing.

you hesitated, wrapping your arms around yourself. "it's my quirk."

"what about it?"

don't tell him don't tell him don't—

"the voices are back," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. "when i use too much of my quirk, they… they start talking to me."

bakugou’s expression didn't change, but he watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.

"they've been quiet for a while," you explained, pacing now. "i thought maybe i'd gotten better at controlling it. but this morning, during training when i used that shadow field technique… they came back."

he thinks you're weak. broken. useless.

you shuddered, and bakugou took a step closer.

"what do they say?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically careful.

you laughed bitterly. "oh, you know. the usual. use more power. do bad things. helpful stuff like that."

bakugou’s face darkened. "have you told anyone? recovery girl? aizawa?"

you shook your head. "my parents know. it's been happening since i was little. the doctors said it's a… side effect. the darkness my quirk controls, it's like it has a consciousness of its own. the more i tap into it, the more it tries to influence me."

he'll report you. they'll expel you. you'll never be a hero now.

"they're talking right now, aren't they?" bakugo asked suddenly.

you froze, surprised again by his insight. "how did you know?"

"your eyes do this thing," he said, gesturing vaguely toward your face. "they get all unfocused, like you're listening to something far away."

you'd never realized you had a tell. the fact that bakugo had noticed made something warm flutter in your chest, momentarily drowning out the malicious whispers.

"yeah," you admitted. "they're telling me you'll think i'm crazy. that i should have kept my mouth shut."

bakugou snorted. "if i thought you were crazy, i wouldn't waste my time training with you."

he's lying to make you feel better. he pities you.

"they're saying you're lying," you said softly.

without warning, bakugou closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders. the touch was firm but not painful—grounding.

"look at me," he demanded.

you raised your eyes to meet his fierce crimson gaze.

"do i ever say shit i don't mean? do i ever fucking lie to make people feel better?"

you couldn't help but smile slightly. "no. that's… actually one of the things i like about you."

something flashed across his face—surprise, maybe even pleasure—before he schooled his expression back to determination.

"then believe me when i say this. i don't give a damn about the voices. we all have shit to deal with. my quirk could blow my arms off if i'm not careful. half-and-half has his daddy issues. deku has… well, everything about him. your thing is voices. so what?"

he doesn't understand. no one can understand.

"it's not that simple," you argued. "they get worse when i use more power. and sometimes…" you hesitated, never having admitted this part to anyone before. "sometimes i want to listen."

instead of recoiling in horror as you expected, bakugou’s grip on your shoulders tightened reassuringly.

"of course you do," he said gruffly. "power is tempting. i know that better than anyone. remember the sports festival?"

you did. his rage, his refusal to accept a victory he didn't earn. the way he'd been chained to the podium, wild-eyed and furious.

"but you didn't give in," you pointed out.

"neither will you," he said with absolute certainty. "you're too stubborn."

despite everything, you laughed. "was that a compliment, bakugou?"

he released your shoulders, a hint of that familiar scowl returning. "don't get used to it."

he'll never understand you like we do.

the whisper was softer now, less convincing. you took a deep breath, focusing on bakugo's presence—solid and real in front of you.

"they're quieter when you're around," you admitted. "i don't know why."

a flash of something like pride crossed his face. "good. then i'll just have to stick around more."

your heart skipped a beat. "what are you saying?"

bakugou crossed his arms, looking somewhat uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. "i'm saying next time they start talking, come find me. i'll make enough noise to drown them out."

the offer was so perfectly, uniquely bakugo that it made you smile despite everything. this gruff, explosive boy who showed his care through actions rather than words.

"are you sure?" you asked. "it could happen anytime. middle of the night. during class."

he shrugged. "so? not like i sleep much anyway."

he'll get tired of you. they all do.

"the voices say you'll get tired of helping me," you said quietly.

bakugou stepped forward again, and this time when his hand reached for you, it was to brush a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness.

"let me make something clear," he said, voice low and intense. "i don't do shit i don't want to do. and i don't walk away from challenges."

"is that what i am? a challenge?" you weren't sure if you should be offended or flattered.

the corner of his mouth quirked up in that half-smile that always made your heart race. "you're a pain in my ass. but…" he hesitated, clearly wrestling with what to say next. "you're my pain in the ass."

coming from bakugou, it was practically a declaration of love.

he'll never—

the voice was cut off as bakugou’s hand cupped your cheek, his calloused palm warm against your skin. for once, his perpetual scowl was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

"tell the voices to shut the hell up," he murmured, "because i'm about to kiss you."

your breath caught in your throat. "bakugou…"

"katsuki," he corrected. "if we're doing this, you use my name."

"katsuki," you whispered, testing the feel of it on your tongue.

and then his lips were on yours, firm and warm and insistent. the voices that had plagued you all morning fell completely silent, drowned out by the thundering of your heart and the sensation of bakugou—no, katsuki—pulling you closer.

when you finally broke apart, the silence in your mind was blissful. whether it would last, you couldn't know. the voices would return eventually. but for now, with bakugou’s arms around you and his forehead pressed against yours, they couldn't reach you.

"they're gone," you breathed in wonder.

he smirked, that cocky confidence returning. "told you i could drown them out."

the bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of lunch period.

"we should get back," you said reluctantly.

bakugou didn't loosen his hold. "skip with me."

your eyes widened. "skip class? you never skip class."

"first time for everything," he shrugged. "besides, we need to figure out how to deal with those voices. might take all afternoon."

"and how exactly are we going to do that?" you asked, unable to keep the smile from your face.

his answering grin was both wicked and tender. "i have some ideas. but first—" he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours softly, "let's make sure they stay quiet a little longer."

as you melted into his kiss, you couldn't hear a single whisper—just the beating of two hearts and the promise that whatever darkness came, you wouldn't face it alone.

taglist: [open]

mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh

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meazalykov · 8 months ago

Text

getting what she wants

lena oberdorf x oc x USWNT!reader

part one of five

summary: lena knows she gets what she wants

warnings: cheating, angst, 18+ (smut? not too detailed and mostly suggestive)

oc description here

you and your girlfriend had always been complicated—never simple, never easy.

it started back in 2021 when you and sloan played at psg. the chemistry on the field between you two was undeniable, but off the field, it was a different story.

the beginning wasn’t so bad, though. she caught feelings for you shortly after she went through a breakup, but you didn’t think much of it. you were happy that someone was interested in you, someone as gorgeous as sloan.

if you were to tell anyone about it now, you'd say it wasn’t the worst relationship, but it definitely wasn’t the best either.

sloan was magnetic, and in those early days, you were drawn to her like everyone else was drawn to her. the older woman was a fierce defender in paris, while you were a threatening midfielder that scared the defenders on the opposite team.

the woman would pull you in, wrap you up in her intensity, and you’d get lost in the way she’d look at you, the way she’d run up to you if you took a hit on the pitch– it was like you were her whole world. and for a while, it felt like you were.

savannah was always there, in the background, but you didn’t mind. you played with both of them on the united states national team, and savannah never seemed like a threat.

she was just part of the past with sloan—something you didn't think twice about. you had bigger things to worry about, like football, your career. you weren’t the type to get jealous over old exs that your girlfriend had.

things shifted in 2022 when you left for bayern munich, after you spent three seasons with PSG.

the move was huge for you. it was a chance to grow, to focus on your game in another league, and push yourself to new heights.

sloan went back to the states, joining portland thorns. her contract didn’t expire with PSG but she didn’t want to stay if you weren’t there.

the long distance was rough, but you both promised to make it work. you'd have late-night calls, texting between training sessions, and sending each other pictures of your day, trying to stay connected despite the time zone difference.

but then, overtime, you started noticing things.

small, subtle shifts. the first time sloan told you that her and savannah texting again. at first, you were alarmed until sloan told you that savannah, who played for louisville, was going to go up against the thorns in the NWSL that week.

you told yourself it was nothing. they’d known each other forever; of course, they'd stay in touch. your mind brushed it off, telling yourself that your trust in sloan was stronger than whatever history she had with savannah.

but it didn’t take long for sophia, your friend on the national team who played at the same club as sloan, to notice.

during one of your national team camps, the ones against china in florida, she pulled you aside, a concerned look on her face.

“have you talked to sloan recently?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching.

“yeah, of course,” you replied, a little confused by her question.

“why?”

sloan was still recovering from an ACL injury, so her club and national team agreed to have the 26 year old play for only portland games for now. she wasn’t called up for the national team so you couldn’t see her this time in the states.

sophia sighs in hesitation,

“i don’t want to stir anything up, but sloan was showing me some tiktok on her phone unaware that um...well,, i saw some messages. between her and savannah. they seemed kinda... i don’t know, close?”

you felt your stomach drop, but you forced a laugh.

“it’s nothing. they’re just friends.” you convinced yourself.

“just be careful, okay?” sophia didn’t look convinced.

you nodded, but that seed of doubt had already been planted.

later that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. the way sloan’s messages had become more distant, the way she’d brush off your questions with a quick “i’m just busy babe” or “practice has been rough.” you tried to push it down, telling yourself it was all in your head.

until one day, you couldn’t anymore.

a few weeks later, you were scrolling through your phone after a long training session in germany when you saw it. videos.

they were everywhere—sloan and savannah, out at some club in portland, laughing, dancing, and way too close for comfort. the headlines were brutal, and your stomach twisted into knots as you scrolled through the comments, people speculating about what was going on between them.

you couldn’t breathe.

immediately, you dialed sloan’s number, your fingers shaking as you waited for her to pick up.

you had to run into your living room, since lea and georgia were staying over your house and were sleeping in the guest room beside your bedroom. there was no way that you would wake them up, even in this condition.

“hey, babe,” she answered casually, as if nothing had happened.

“what the FUCK, sloan?” your voice cracked, the anger and hurt pouring out all at once.

there was a pause on the other end, just long enough to make you feel even worse.

“it’s not what it looks like,” she finally said, her voice too calm, too rehearsed.

“it sure as hell doesn’t look good,” you shot back.

“you’re out partying with savannah? after you told me there was nothing going on?”

sloan sighed.

“i told you, it’s nothing. we just went out for drinks with our teams. it’s not a big deal.”

“not a big deal?” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“sloan, everyone’s talking about it. you’re all over the news. do you even realize how this makes me look? do you know how this makes YOU look?”

you hated how much you still cared about her and her image. of course everyone on the internet was dragging sloan’s name through the filth for your defense.

“you’re overreacting. savannah’s just a friend who happens to be my ex too. you need to stop letting other people get into your head.” sloan said, annoyed.

but you couldn’t calm down. how could you? not when the entire world had just seen your girlfriend getting close with her ex like it was nothing.

your heart ached, torn between the love you still had for sloan and the anger bubbling inside you.

“i can’t believe you,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

“i trusted you!”

“and i haven’t done anything to break that trust,” sloan shot back, her voice harder now.

“look, if you don’t trust me, that’s on you. i can’t control how people perceive things.”

you hung up the phone without another word, your chest heavy, the pain sinking deeper with every passing second.

as you collapsed onto the ground, you felt a pair of arms catch you. the vanilla scent of the person’s chest told you that it was lea schuller hugging you as you cried.

weeks afterwards– you threw yourself into training, trying to ignore the hurt, the betrayal. but it lingered, gnawing at you, distracting you during every practice, every match. no matter how hard you tried to focus, your mind kept wandering back to sloan, to those videos, to the lies.

you couldn’t go to the states to confront her, and that only made it worse. you were stuck, miles away, helpless.

many months later, it's July 1st 2024. despite everything—the distance, the arguments, the emotional drain—you and sloan were still together.

maybe it was the comfort of it all, the familiarity. you’d been with her for so long that the thought of letting go felt impossible. breaking up seemed like more effort than just sticking it out.

even if things weren’t great, they weren’t unbearable. or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

sloan wasn’t seen with her ex again. in fact, she never mentioned savannah again, and you didn’t ask. but the tension hung between you like a fog, thick and ever-present. every time you checked social media, every time her name came up in conversation, your stomach would knot up, the unease always lingering. but nothing ever changed.

after each conversation with sloan, you felt empty. like a weight had been lifted, but at the same time, it left a hollow space inside you. the next few days passed in a blur.

you threw yourself into training, desperate to block out the pain, but even football wasn’t the escape it usually was.

that’s when lena oberdorf started showing up in your life. she’d recently moved to bayern from wolfsburg, and though you’d played against her plenty of times, you never really knew her well. she was fierce on the pitch, strong and confident.

in fact, you had a perception of her since you fell victim to her side tackles on many, many occasions. but you started to notice lena’s behavior around you after training, she was different—softer, a little shy even.

it started with small things. lena would linger after practice, making conversation, asking how you were doing.

at first, you chalked it up to her being friendly, trying to settle into her new team and make friends outside of the ones she knew from the national team.

a week later, before the national break that will lead into the olympics– training was going well. your focus was locked in on the drills as the team worked through possession exercises.

everything felt sharp, crisp. your legs were taking you towards the goal until georgia came in hard, a tackle from the side catching your leg at an awkward angle. you hit the ground hard, a sharp pain shooting through your ankle.

“y/n!” you heard georgia’s voice above the ringing in your ears as she stands up from the ground.

“shit shit shit!!! i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

before she could finish, lena was already by your side, practically sprinting over from the other side of the field.

she dropped to her knees next to you, her hands immediately on your shoulders.

“are you okay? where does it hurt?” lena’s voice was frantic, her eyes wide with concern as she looked you over, clearly scanning for any sign of serious injury.

“i’m fine, lena,” you muttered, trying to sit up.

“just... give me a sec.” the pain wasn’t as bad as you first thought. it was more of a shock than anything.

lena wasn’t having it.

“you don’t look fine,” she insisted, gently pushing you back down as you tried to get up.

“you should stay down for a bit. what if it’s worse than you think?”

georgia hovered nearby, an apologetic look on her face. “i didn’t mean to go in that hard. really, i’m sorry, y/n.”

“what the hell, georgia? you didn’t have to go in on her like that—it’s training, not a match!” lena shot her a glare, her protective streak kicking in immediately.

“i know, i know,” georgia said, holding up her hands in surrender.

“i was just going for the ball, i didn’t mean to hurt her.”

you could see the tension building between the two of them,

lena getting more worked up than necessary. it wasn’t the first time lena had gotten overprotective over you, but this was definitely one of the more intense moments. you placed a hand on her arm, trying to calm her down.

“lena, seriously, i’m fine. it’s not a big deal.”

but she wasn’t having it. “no, it is a big deal. she should’ve been more careful.”

georgia rolled her eyes but kept her distance, clearly not wanting to escalate things. the rest of the team had started to gather around, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of concern and amusement.

“she’s tough, lena,” georgia said with a small smile, trying to diffuse the situation.

“she’s not made of glass.” you wanted to giggle after georgia said that, but you didn’t want to piss off a protective lena.

“maybe, but that doesn’t mean you can just throw her to the ground,” lena snapped back, still kneeling beside you, her hands hovering protectively around you like she was scared you might fall apart any second.

"you're one to talk about putting people on the ground!" georgia says before laughing at lena's smirk, a smirk she tried to hide knowing that georgia is right.

the team, noticing the bickering, started exchanging looks.

a few stifled laughs could be heard, and you knew exactly what was coming.

“uh, lena?” tuva called out from behind you, a teasing grin on her face. “y/n is okay.”

tuva pulls lena, gently, away from you as you stand up. your ankle is sore but not painful. you were okay.

“you do realize y/n’s taken, right?” lea whispered to lena, but you still heard it.

you groaned inwardly, knowing exactly where this was headed.

“yeah, lena, i don’t think her girlfriend would be too happy about all this... care you’re giving y/n,” giulia added, her voice dripping with amusement.

lena flushed, her cheeks turning a shade of red you hadn’t seen before. she quickly stood up, brushing off her shorts, though she still hovered close to you, as if she wasn’t quite ready to leave your side.

“i’m just making sure she’s okay,” lena muttered, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

you couldn’t help but laugh a little despite the situation. “lena, seriously, i’m fine. you don’t need to go full paramedic on me. besides guys, you don’t have to mention her while we are here”

“oh!” sydney says, laughing.

the teasing continued, the team now fully enjoying the spectacle.

“she’s going full-on protective mode, isn’t she?” pernille chuckled, giving lena a nudge.

“you’ve got it bad, oberdorf.” madga joins.

“it’s just concern,” lena muttered, clearly embarrassed now, trying to avoid the teasing looks being thrown her way.

you finally managed to walk, rolling your ankle a bit to check for any real damage. again, it was sore, but nothing too serious. you were fine—like you’d been saying all along.

“see? i told you. i’m okay.”

“well, that’s a relief,” lena mumbled, though the look of worry in her eyes hadn’t completely disappeared. she stood a little closer than necessary, and the team noticed.

they noticed how you let her stay close to you too.

“yeah, ‘relief,’” georgia echoed, shaking her head in amusement.

“seriously though, y/n’s fine. no need to be so protective, lena—- i’m sorry y/n.”

the teasing continued as the team dispersed, but lena stayed near you, still looking a little flustered.

“i just didn’t want her to be hurt,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

you gave her a soft smile, appreciating her concern, even if it was a little overboard.

“i know. but it’s okay. i’m tougher than i look.”

lena saw lea’s smile turn into a quick frown at that, she makes a mental note to question her best friend about that later.

after that morning in training, you began to notice the way lena looked at you. there was something more in her eyes, something you hadn’t picked up on before.

the next day, after a tough session, you were sitting on the sidelines, catching your breath, when lena plopped down beside you.

“you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle, her eyes scanning your face.

you nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah, just tired.”

but lena wasn’t convinced. “i’ve noticed you’ve been... off lately. is it sloan?”

lena asked lea why you seemed off. lea told her the backstory about your relationship with the portland thorn’s defender. she did her own research afterwards, realizing how bad it really was.

the mention of sloan’s name made your stomach twist. you didn’t want to talk about her, not now, not ever.

“it’s complicated.”

lena hesitated for a moment, then quietly said,

“you don’t deserve what she is putting you through, y/n. you deserve someone who’s going to put you first.”

you glanced at her, surprised by the intensity in her words. there was something in the way she said it, the quiet conviction, that made you pause.

“it’s not that simple,” you mumbled, looking down at the ground.

“we’ve been together for so long, and— i don’t know.”

“maybe that’s the problem,” lena said, her voice soft but firm.

“maybe you’ve been holding on to something that’s already gone.”

you didn’t respond. you couldn’t, because deep down, you knew she was right. sloan wasn’t fighting for you anymore, and maybe she never had.

lena stayed by your side for the rest of the day, offering silent support.

and as the days went on, her presence became something you looked forward to—her quiet smiles, her easy laughter, the way she’d stick around just to make sure you were okay.

it wasn’t long before you started noticing the little things she did for you. bringing you coffee before training, giving you rides home, offering to help with your recovery sessions after each training.

it was subtle, but there was a certain care in everything she did, something you hadn’t felt from sloan in a long time.

one afternoon, the last training before the national break for the olympics, lena comes up to you after the showers.

“hey, you want to grab dinner?” she asked casually, but there was something in her tone that made your heart race a little faster.

“uh, yeah, sure,” you replied, caught off guard.

you ended up at a quiet restaurant, tucked away from the usual chaos.

over dinner, lena was different. more open, more confident. she asked about your life, your interests outside of football, and for the first time in a while, you found yourself genuinely enjoying someone’s company.

halfway through the meal, she leaned back in her chair, her eyes locking onto yours.

“y/n, can i be honest with you?”

your heart skipped a beat. “of course.”

“I've been attracted to you for a long time,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“since before you moved to bayern. but i didn’t want to say anything because... well, i knew you were with sloan.”

you blinked, taken aback by her confession. “you... have?”

she nodded, her gaze unwavering. “yeah. but i’ve been watching how things have been going with you two, and... i just want you to know that you deserve someone who’s going to treat you better. someone who has respect for you.”

you stared at her, not sure how to respond. it wasn’t that you hadn’t noticed lena’s growing presence in your life, but hearing her say it out loud, admitting her feelings so openly, was something you hadn’t expected.

“lena, i...” you started, but the words got stuck in your throat. you didn’t know what to say. part of you was still reeling from sloan, from the hurt and confusion that came with it.

but another part of you—a part you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge—felt something for lena too. something more.

she must’ve sensed your hesitation because she quickly added, “i’m not trying to pressure you or anything. i just wanted you to know how i feel. whatever happens, i’m here for you liebe. no matter what.”

her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. maybe lena was right. maybe you did deserve more.

as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing in her presence, the tension from your relationship with sloan slowly easing away.

it was different with lena—easier, lighter. and when she walked you back to your apartment later that night, there was a moment where she hesitated, standing on the doorstep, her eyes flicking to your lips.

you could’ve kissed her. part of you wanted to.

“thanks for tonight,” you whispered, your voice soft.

lena smiled, her expression gentle. “anytime, y/n. i’m always here for you.”

something in the air had shifted after she said that, leaving only the quiet between you two.

lena was standing just a little too close, her gaze a little too intense, and you could feel the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the space between you.

her eyes flickered down to your lips again, and for a moment, she seemed to freeze. your heart pounded in your chest as the silence stretched on, each second amplifying the tension between you both.

you couldn’t tear your gaze away from her, drawn in by the way she was looking at you, the unspoken desire clear in her eyes.

the way she cares for you, the way you’ve been burying your attraction for her. It was too much. you wanted her.

your mind was racing—everything with sloan, the mess of your relationship, how complicated it all was.

but in that moment, none of it mattered. not with lena looking at you like that.

you made the first move, your body acting on instinct before your brain could catch up.

leaning in slowly, tentatively, you closed the gap between you, your lips barely brushing hers at first.

you paused, just for a second, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to. but she didn’t.

the second lena kissed you back, everything else melted away. her lips met yours with a sudden intensity, all the built-up tension finally spilling over.

her hands were on you in an instant, one sliding to the back of your neck, the other finding your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

it wasn’t gentle—not by any means. there was an urgency in the way she kissed you, and the way you kissed her. she’d been holding back for far too long, and now that the floodgates were open, there was no going back.

you responded in kind, your hands gripping the front of her hoodie, pulling her even closer as you kissed her harder, your body pressing against hers.

lena’s hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, her fingers warm against your skin as they traced the curve of your waist, making you shiver.

the feeling of her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, your heart racing even faster. your lips moved against hers in sync, the kiss growing more heated by the second, both of you caught up in the intensity of the moment.

you broke apart for a brief second, both of you gasping for air, but the space between you barely lasted a heartbeat before lena’s lips were on yours again, even more desperate than before. her body pressed into yours, pushing you gently against the door, and you welcomed the pressure, your hands finding their way into her hair, tugging just enough to earn a quiet groan from her.

“lena,” you breathed against her lips, not even sure what you were trying to say, if anything at all. her name came out like a plea, like you were drowning in her and needed more, but didn’t know how to ask for it.

“y/n,” she murmured back, her voice low and husky, her breath hot against your skin as she kissed along your jaw, trailing down to your neck.

the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, your knees going weak as you clung to her, desperate to stay grounded in the overwhelming rush of feelings.

her hand gripped your waist tighter, holding you against her as her lips moved across your skin, finding every sensitive spot that made you gasp, your fingers tightening in her hair as you struggled to keep up with the intensity of it all.

you weren’t thinking about sloan anymore, or the complications that would come from this. all that mattered was the way lena was making you feel—the way her lips felt on yours, the way her touch set your skin on fire.

and when lena pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark and filled with something raw, something intense, you knew there was no going back.

you reached your left hand behind your body, keeping your right on lena’s waist, as you unlocked the door.

pulling the taller woman inside, you didn’t think twice before taking her into your bedroom.

the sex was amazing. its been nearly 18 months since you last tine you’ve did anything, thanks to your long distance relationship.

the girl back in portland didn’t come across your mind once. just the moment between you, the girl who's sleeping in your arms, and the fact that you’ll have a flight back to the states for national duty in the morning.

part two here

#lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #lena you're missed #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen #bayern munich #uswnt

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blank-potato · 2 months ago

Text

The Boy Is Mine

Pairing: Lanfear x Rand al’Thor x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Explicit content, Overstimulation kink, Sub!Rand, Dom!Lanfear, Switch! Reader

Summary:

"Don't pretend like you don't want this," she purrs, a knowing smirk curling her lips. "I've seen your dreams." After hearing him every night moaning in his sleep it had influenced your own dreams. There had been dreams with a mixture of you and Rand, you and Lanfear and in the most dangerous iteration, all three of you. You hated that she knew that, that she knew what made you weak. “Don’t fight it.” Or Lanfear has been lurking in Rand's dreams a little too much for your liking, when you catch them in the act you try to show her who he belongs to

A/N: Got to love a Lanfear and Rand sandwich and Lanfear using weaves kinda like tentacles

✶✶✶

How could you compete?

She was a forsaken and she had her hooks deep in him.

You lay next to him at night as he sleeps and often hear her name on his lips followed shortly by yours.

You didn't talk about it, you wouldn't even know how to bring it up.

You wouldn't question why or the clear effect her dreams had on him in the morning.

It drove you mad to hear him call out her name right next to you.

He wasn't hers anymore, he was yours.

✶✶✶

As you enter your room Lanfear is sitting on your bed as if she owns the place. Her domineering stare is not lost on you as it sends shivers down your spine.

“Did you like my gift?”

You assumed she was referring to the slew of dreams she had been sending Rand’s way and it was not at all appreciated.

“I will not let you corrupt Rand’s mind.”

“And how exactly would you stop me, hm?”

She's toying with you like you're a mouse caught in her trap and she loves to see you squirm.

“How about I corrupt your mind too? We could have fun,” she says as she approaches you, you don’t even register that she’s right next to you before it’s too late.

“I would never…” you start to say but your words trail off.

Her lips were ghosting your neck, making the hairs on your body stand up.

It's definitely fear but there's something else underneath, threatening to rear its ugly head.

She pushes you to your knees and you feel no urge to resist or fight back.

Almost like some innate need to please her, you didn't know why but you had to. It’s not long before she’s exposed to you, in all her naked glory and you’re tentatively licking at her clit. Having enough of your shyness she grabs you by the head and starts grinding on your face. You could only breathe in her scent when you gasped for air.

“Good girl.”

You wake up in a panic, your body acting and longing for her but your mind hating her for putting you in such a position.

That night, as you lay tangled up with Rand, you can’t help but have her on your mind. Her shadow lingered between you, taunting you, haunting your relationship with him.

You look down at Rand, his beautiful stormy eyes half-lidded, his short red hair tousled from your touch. Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows, his breath unsteady. As if possessed, you wrap your hand around his throat and squeeze. He lets out an ungodly moan, his body arching beneath you.

Snapping out of your haze, you ease up, quickly moving your hand away, worried that you had hurt him. But instead of pulling back, he catches your wrist, guiding your hand back to his throat.

“No, no, I... I like it,” he murmurs, his voice breathless, eyes dark with something you’ve never quite seen in him before.

As he grinds his hips against yours, his hands gripping you like he never wants to let go, a shiver runs down your spine. Marking his neck with love bites, you lose yourself in the moment, the warmth of his skin, the way he reacts to every touch. The night feels endless, a blur of heat and desire. You didn’t know what came over you, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it, but one thing was clear—Rand liked it.

✶✶✶

You had to check that you weren’t dreaming. You blinked hard and even pinched your own arm but no, it was real.

Lanfear was there, in your bed... with Rand.

A cold rush of anger surged through you as you stepped forward, voice sharp and unwavering.

"Get your hands off of him!"

She only smirked, her fingers still lazily tracing over his bare chest.

"I don't think he'd like that very much," she purred, amusement dancing in her eyes as if she already knew she had the upper hand.

His cock was twitching in her right hand, slick with a mixture of her spit and his pre-cum. His eyes widen when he sees you, the haze in them flickering with recognition. He had been in a dazed state, his body tense yet pliant beneath her touch, eyes glazed over like he wasn’t entirely present.

“I...” he breathes, voice hoarse as if waking from a dream or a nightmare.

Lanfear’s smirk doesn’t falter. She tilts her head and palms his cock like she has every right to be touching him.

It made you sick.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she muses. “It’s not like he was resisting.”

Lanfear steps toward you, each movement slow, deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. Instinctively, you take a step back, your heart hammering in your chest.

"Don't pretend like you don't want this," she purrs, a knowing smirk curling her lips. "I've seen your dreams."

After hearing him every night moaning in his sleep it had influenced your own dreams. There had been dreams with a mixture of you and Rand, you and Lanfear and in the most dangerous iteration, all three of you.

You hated that she knew that, that she knew what made you weak.

“Don’t fight it.”

She smiles, taking delight in the way you freeze under her touch, your breath hitching as anticipation coils in your stomach. Her lips meet yours in a tender, almost taunting kiss. It surprises you, a slow warmth spreading through your body, sinking straight to your core, leaving you unsteady. You’re surprised your legs don’t collapse from beneath you.

When you finally manage to pull away, your gaze flickers to Rand. He’s captivated; his chest rising and falling heavily, his lips parted ever so slightly. It’s evident in the way his body reacts, the tension in his muscles, and the dark hunger in his eyes.

You walk over to him and undress with an unnatural quickness, climbing on top of him and claiming your spot.

You wanted him focused on you and only you, and feel a rush of pride runs through you when a strong desperate moan rings out as you ride him without abandon. As he grips your hips, he nuzzles against your neck like he needs you to ground him to this moment. Each whimper he makes vibrates on your jawline as he lays sloppy kisses against it, reaffirming his need for you.

As Lanfear is forced to watch, you lock eyes with her. A silent challenge, a declaration. This moment, this connection belongs to you. She may covet him, weave dreams around him, try to claim him as hers… but she would never have him. Not the way you do.

"I'm... I'm close," Rand breathes, his voice ragged, his grip tightening.

"Blood and ashes..." he groans, head falling back, completely lost in you. He finishes crying out your name and you feel his load pour into you. The shudders racked his body with each pulse leaving him breathless. But you don’t stop, continuing to drive him into overstimulation, pushing him past the edge of reason, past anything but the feeling of you.

He calls out your name over and over again, his voice cracking as he’s barely able to keep up. He’s so overrun with sensation, so utterly wrecked beneath you, as you bounce up and down on him, refusing to let him go, refusing to give him a moment’s rest.

You think he's about to cry, his eyes glassy and pleading. You had never seen him like that, it was beautiful, stunning even. Like he was a masterpiece, painted just for you.

But your painting would be ruined when Lanfear moves from her position. She closes the distance in an instant and before you can react, she yanks your head back by your hair, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

Then she kisses you. It’s fierce, unrelenting and a clear battle for control. Her weaves find you immediately after, slithering around your body like vines, tightening around you. You try to squirm, to fight, but it’s no use. She has you completely bound and at her mercy.

“What a show you put on for me.”

She moves you up and down on Rand’s shaft with effortless control, like you’re nothing more than a plaything caught in her grasp. A column of air presses against your most sensitive spot which makes your thighs clench against Rand’s thighs.

You feel your orgasm building with each passing moment. You were close and they both knew it.

With a final thrust, you reach your climax, your body trembling and shaking against Rand uncontrollably. The pleasure you experienced was like nothing you had ever known.

Barely having a moment to breathe, her weaves manhandle you again, pulling you around as if you weigh nothing. She positions you above Rand’s face, his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat through your body.

"What are you...?" you manage to gasp, but Lanfear only smirks.

"Well, you should let him clean up the mess he made," she purrs, her voice dripping with amusement.

Rand exhales sharply, his grip tightening on your thighs. "Let me clean up my mess," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You couldn’t protest if you wanted to. Not with the way he looked at you like an eager puppy. You could never say no to him.

And so you nod, your breath hitching as you lower yourself to his mouth. The moment his tongue meets you, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

His ministrations are slow at first but quickly build in intensity. Your last orgasm had been blinding, but this… this was something else entirely.

Whiny moans spill from your mouth as he starts to move faster as if repaying you for what you had done to him. But Rand wasn’t vengeful, at least you didn’t think he was until now. But the way he was eating you out was downright filthy; pushing you to the brink just like you had done to him earlier. His hands reach up, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs before sliding lower to cup your butt, holding you exactly where he wants you.

There's a dip in the bed as Lanfear climbs on top of him, her movements slow and deliberate, claiming the space where you once were. As you try to shy away from Rand’s mouth, her weaves tighten around your thighs, holding you in place, preventing even the slightest escape. Rand groans against you as Lanfear starts to ride him, the vibrations only intensifying the pleasure coursing through your body.

“Lan…fear…” Rand moans out from beneath you, muffled by your pussy against his mouth. The humiliation of it all—losing control, losing to her. Despite your best efforts, it was clear, she had all the power. She could make both of you surrender whenever she wanted, bend you to her will with nothing more than a touch, a whisper, a well-placed weave.

The vibrations against your sensitive spot send a violent shudder through you as you hear Rand’s moans increasing in volume, pushing you closer to the edge.

The weaves wrapped around your thighs tighten, keeping you helpless against Rand’s relentless efforts. You’re surprised he can still breathe, but he doesn’t stop. If anything he grows even more desperate, more eager. Long, throaty moans spill from Lanfear’s lips, and for the first time since she started riding Rand, you finally look at her.

She’s completely lost in the pleasure, her body moving in slow, sensual rolls. But then your eyes trail lower, and you realise she’s using her weaves, delicate yet precise, teasing Rand in ways neither of you had before.

Her power fondles him mercilessly, ghostly touches gliding over every sensitive spot. Toying with his nipples and balls, rolling and pinching, no wonder he’s a moaning wreck beneath you.

Lanfear meets your gaze, smirking. "Beautiful, isn't he?" she purrs, her voice thick with satisfaction.

He was utterly undone, lost in the overwhelming sensations consuming him. Every twitch, every tense muscle, every shuddering breath spoke of his submission. His body showed just how deeply he had surrendered to her touch. Lanfear's weaves continue their relentless torment, drawing out every gasp, every moan, every helpless tremble.

And though you wanted to deny it, you thought that she was beautiful too. The danger of a Forsaken clung to her like a second skin, yet what a breathtaking creature she was. She was a testament to temptation itself, to the dark pull of desire.

The way her bare hips rolled against Rand’s, slow and deliberate like she had all the time in the world, only made it clearer—Lanfear didn’t just take what she wanted. She made you want to give it to her. And if she asked either one of you at that moment to follow her into the darkness, you don’t know if you’d have the strength to say no.

She leans in closer, voice like silk. "And he's all mine."

You nod at her, too blissed out of your mind to say anything of value.

She laughs, low and sultry and you can tell it’s teasing, almost mocking, but not cruel. The kind of laugh one gives when their pet does something endearing.

Hearing the shift in pitch in Lanfear’s moans, you know she’s close. And so are you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, building faster than you can prepare for, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to pull you under. The heat coils in your core, tightening with every roll of her hips, every flick of Rand’s tongue, every ghostly caress of her weaves.

Lanfear’s grip tightens on you, her breath hitching. “Go on,” she purrs, voice strained with her own impending release. “Come for us.”

You're not sure who she's speaking to, but it doesn't matter—both you and Rand reach your peak at the same time, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Lanfear follows shortly after, her cries of ecstasy mingling with yours, the room thick with heat and exhaustion. The orgasm knocks the breath from your lungs, leaving you feeling weightless.

She releases you both, and you collapse next to Rand, bodies slick with sweat, limbs tangled together, the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. The thing you had nightmares about had happened and you had no idea what to do with yourself. There was no stopping her, she had made the both of you into her puppets, her toys.

Lanfear runs her fingers through your hair as Rand struggles to catch his breath, looking as satisfied as ever. She kisses you both as if reinforcing her claim on you before saying, “Sleep well, my loves. You’ll need your strength”, then slipping off the bed and walking out the door, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of her touch.

You lay your head on Rand’s chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. He kisses your forehead, tender, almost grounding.

You had lost. The battle for Rand’s heart was over before it had even begun.

He was already hers but now, she owns you too.

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