#i miss my mothers so badly bring them back

[darlingstarkey]

think later - pt 17 (FIC & smau)

series masterlist

summary - y/n, formerly a pogue princess, finally had her big breakthrough and got signed to a record label in LA. little did she, her boyfriend rafe cameron and the rest of her friends know how things would really change as soon as she becomes famous.

anything in dark mode is rafe's phone!

authors note (IMPORTANT): im so sorry i was mia recently. i had so much going on and just got super overwhelmed! i finally figured out how i want this to end :) expect to see very very fluffy rafe upcoming. i kinda wanna turn this into something sweeter after their rough patch! what do you guys think?!

THIS PART IS VERY WORD HEAVY. NO SOCIAL MEDIA WAS USED IN THIS PART.

CONSIDER THIS A PT. 17 & THE NEXT PART WILL BE 17.5! I JUST REALLY WANTED TO MAKE THIS FIC ACTIVE AGAIN AND DEVELOP THEIR STORY :)

wc: approx 1.4k

warnings: canon!rafe mentioned, depression mentioned, rough childhood mentioned, swearing, drugs mentioned, crying, soft!rafe, angst but eventual fluff, y/ns parents, long monologue. cliff hanger.

-

and there he was, in fact outside. rafe stood there wearing a fitted white t-shirt, with a slightly grown out buzz cut and a badly shaved stubble. he looked different, tired, sad, exhausted even. rafe leaned against his ferrari and stiffened as soon as you walked out and up to him.

looking up at him you grabbed his jaw and tilted it to the side, biting the inside of your cheek as you inspected him. "you look like shit." you smirked slightly, breaking the awkwardness between you two. he playfully swatted your hand away, bringing you into a familiar warm hug.

"i missed you." he choked out, nestling face into your neck. his voice was raw and broken. you could feel rafe's tears plant themselves in your skin, almost burning you with how much pain you felt in this moment. all of what you went through with him in the past couple of weeks had all just melted away in this moment. having rafe hold you in his strong arms, inhaling his familiar scent of pine trees and whiskey and his warmth, felt healing to you.

you pull him away to see his bright red face and tears freely streaming down them. "i missed you too." you say softly, wiping away his tears. you apologetically smirk up at him, "wanna talk inside?" you say shrugging your shoulder in the direction of your newly acquired mansion.

he nods softly and follows you into your home. it was different, for sure, compared to the run down 2-bedroom for you and your parents back in the cut. this home had everything anyone could ever ask for, and it's exactly what you deserved.

as the door clicked, you heard your mother call out "y/n?" she echoed through the house. "yeah mom, here.." you sigh, waiting for this interaction between your mother and rafe to be over. you swore you could see her eyes bulge out of her head as she laid them on rafes figure.

"oh rafe darling!!" she smiled sweetly as she headed over to cup her hands in between his cheeks. "how have you been my love?" she smiles at him. his face turned a bright pink as he replied, "hi mrs. y/l/n, i've been well, how are you?".

"oh same old same old, except missing my gorgeous daughter here. i can't believe she's about to go all the way to europe for months! can't you believe it?!" your mother beamed. of course she was proud, anyone would be. but this right now, was not what neither you or rafe needed before the conversation you were about to have.

"of course i can believe it.. she's amazing." rafe said genuinely as he looked down at you with admiration.

"well, mom, we'll be upstairs if you need us." you smile softly at your mother, while giving her a 'what are you doing?!' look. finally getting the hint, your mother steps out of the way back to doing whatever task she was indulging in before. you and rafe head up the massive stairs leading to your bedroom.

as rafe steps in, it's almost instantly foreign territory. everything is upgraded and completely different from your old bedroom. no crayola marks from when you were six all over the walls, no piles of clothes due to a lack of dresser, but there was one thing. a photo of you two framed on your night stand.

rafe picks it up and smiles at it while shaking his head. "i remember this day.." he recalls. "you looked so beautiful in that dress, i remember kiara begging us to drive her out onto the main land and hours away for her photography skill development." he chuckles at the memory.

"yeah, that was fun. it was the day you told me you loved me for the first time.." you agreed and plopped next to him and took the photo from his hands, your thumb caressing the glass as if it was the most delicate thing in the world. "we were running hand in hand through the grass and i just remember the look in your eye, you looked like there wasn't a worry in the world rafe.." you look over at him, and he's already staring.

"that's because with you, there isn't..." rafe mumbled.

he starts to twiddle his fingers between eachother, a habit that you've noticed that he engages in when he's anxious.. "listen y/n, i've been a real fucking jerk since you left." he sighed and looked at you with pleading eyes. you gulped, anticipating the words that would come out of his mouth.

"y/n, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. i never knew anything about love, compassion, honesty, and loyalty before i met you. you remember who i was then, a broken kid from a broken home with nothing but money to fix my issues. you fixed me, you took every little broken piece of me and put it together, and i don't think anyone else in the world is able to do that for me but you.

it's not even the way you fixed me, it's the way you managed to do so gracefully just by being yourself. you understood all my breakdowns, all my anger and sadness and it wasn't because you felt like you had to, its because you wanted to.

i am the luckist man in the world to have had you for the time that i did. so even if you just listen to all of this then decide that you don't want to be with me anymore, then so be it. because i know i got to experience great, pure and real love that everyone talks about in the movies." he choked out.

rafe took a long pause before continuing. "i was an idiot, i fucking know. but there's no "how-to" for when your girlfriend suddenly becomes one of the biggest pop stars in the world and you're the one at home fighting the same issues that you would before she came into your life.

god i'm proud of you, hell i wanted you to become famous even more than you did at one point. but when you left it was like a piece of me left and i was fucking scared you would never come back.

your welcome party sucked, i was so worried i had been replaced already.. then jj was there when i was just stuck here already wishing for you to come back and i just spiraled. everything was a threat to me. those LA boys, jj, and just you living out your dream without me there. i went to sofia because she was the only person who would actually listen to me. i never liked her. i was fucking desperate, y/n. i promise you she never meant anything to me. that night at the party with her, was a mistake.

i never wanted to do anything with her, i just wanted to get her alone to talk about how i'd been feeling. and that's why i said something i didn't mean. i was so mad and upset because i felt so lost without you.

i dealt with all of this pressure and issues we had by acting like my old self, the rafe that would just manipulate, bully and push away everyone so badly that it hurt them to protect myself. and i did that to you. i shouldn't have done that because you didn't ever deserve that treatment from me. i let you down these past couple of weeks with all my actions.

i know it isn't an excuse, y/n. i know that what i said was fucked up and horrible. i know i shouldn't have broken up and ran away when things got hard. i wouldn't forgive me if i were you, but i just wanted you to know.

i wanted you to know so i wouldn't live the rest of my life without telling you." he stated sharply, still holding the intense eye contact with you. your face felt hot, and you barely noticed the tears streaming down your face. the silence between you two was so loud that the only thing that was genuinely heard was your thumping heart.

"oh.. and she likes barry.." he says finally.

"w-what?" you choke out, barely hearing him from the ringing noise in your ears.

"sofia. she likes barry." he whispered and looked down at his finger nails.

you placed your hand on top of his and softly touched his hand. rafe shivered at the heat radiating from your hand as it interlinked itself with his almost instinctively.

-

thanks for reading if you made it this far :) let me know what you think! next part so soon.

taglist: @madkohi, @yesshewrites1, @grapejuice32, @leotapes , @givemylovetoall, @inlovewrafe, @bee-43, @larvalerius, @masongetinmybed, @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not, @mystargirl-interlude, @eddxemxnson, @sqfewrd, @pogueprincesa, @frankoceanluvr11, @raeven-marie43, @marleymarleymarleymarley, @mindfulmesses, @akobx, @spenceatiny18, @fluoxetinys, @lolxdswag123, @st8rkey, @ethanthequeefqueen, @drewrry, @jjmaybankmylovee, @disaster-rose, @sunshinedaisy21, @chillgal135, @amterasuu, @wtfisastiles, @sassyvillaintrophy, @bananaminn, @barnesboo1967, @pi4st81, @stvrkeysgal

xo, dylan

[noahsartt]

my brain 24/7 they need to free me

[hitomisuzuya]

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. sexting. masturbation. recorded masturbation. degradation. scara's texts are bolded.

requests will be open soon. roma says hi, everyone. this is super dirty ngl 😳

scaramouche is in a foul mood. he couldn't be with you. instead, he was forced to attend a corporate banquet hosted by the company his mom works for. and he couldn't bring you as a date. he had to be polite and not swear.

yeah, he wasn't doing that bull. currently, he was trying to stomach some shithead talk about how grateful he is for the opportunities the company gave him over the years.

scaramouche stuck his tongue out, and made gagging noise while he plays around on his phone. he couldn't be with you. he couldn't hold you, kiss you or fuck you. he really hates being separated from you because it makes him anxious.

his phone vibrates in his hand. 'how is it going, sweets? 🥺' a text from you, a reprieve from the all the bullshit being forced on him.

'i am pissed off. i miss you. and i am horny.' he texts back. if he couldn't be with you then he could talk dirty to you. and he would rather the ground swallow him up than admit outloud that he loves when you call him sweets.

'i wish i could be there to take care of you.'

your text was followed up a few moments later with a picture. scaramouche's breath hitches in his throat as he struggles to hold back a groan seeing a picture of you in his favorite flimsy, lacy lingerie. he could see the hint of your hard nipples poking prettily under your bra.

his cock pulses and hardens thinking of you lying there, all wet and needy for him, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation of his response.

'fuck i wish you were here on your knees underneath the table, looking up at me with a cute collar around your neck. taking my cock into your pliable throat. sucking like an obedient slut while i hold a leash one one hand, the other holding your hair while you choke on it.' he is getting almost unbearably hard as he types.

your response came a few moments later. 'would call me a good girl for choking on your cock so well? would you degrade me for rubbing my clit while i moan and drool?'

your text was followed with another picture. this time your fingers hovering over your clit outside your panties, your hips slightly lifted like you were going to grind on them.

'you are teasing me, kitten. it's frustrating me. what a pathetic slut you are, playing with your swollen little clit while you suck me off. being that impatient that you can't wait for my cock to be fucking into you.'

he can never get enough of how badly you always want him. he hit send, his cock aching with anticipation for your response and the thoughtful photo that would no doubt follow.

'your cock would feel so good in my mouth. i would kitten lick your cock, slowly licking the slit and playing with my tongue in your precum. telling you how good it feels to choke on your cock while i suck and swirl my tongue on the tip.' your response nearly made him moan outloud.

another picture came moments later, gracing him with the visual of your bra pulled down off your breasts and your fingers pinching your perky nipple.

it made him hornier not being able to see how wet you undoubtedly are.

first, he took his earbuds out of his pocket and put them in his ears. he has to give a middle finger to his mother in as many ways as possible, after all. his fingers flew over the keyboard.

'what are you doing right now, slut? fucking your fingers inside that pretty pussy of yours? thinking about me fucking you from behind, using the leash as leverage while you moan like a whore in heat. struggling to beg me to pretty please cum inside you.'

scaramouche looks up from his phone once he presses send, his eyes darting around the room. he is getting way too hard. he knows he really needs to find somewhere and take the edge off. his eyes land on the coat closet as his phone vibrates again.

he curses quietly seeing no picture follow as he reads the text. he wishes he could punish you for being such a tease.

'i am, scara. i want to cum so badly. my clit is throbbing so much. i can't get my fingers far enough up inside of me. they aren't your fingers. or your cock. i am getting my vibrator to use while i play with my clit.'

scaramouche's response is hastily typed, his thumb practically smacking the send button. 'fucking show me. i need to see that tight little cunt.'

he abruptly stood up, hoping his chair made an awful noise. making a hasty retreat to the coat closet while people applauded the shithead on stage. he scoffs seeing there wasn't a lock on the door, but he really didn't care.

agonizing minutes went by, with his hand stroking his cock once he freed from the infernal confines of his pants. his phone vibrates in his hand with a notification for a video coming in.

he couldn't have hit the play button fast enough. his cock throbs seeing the display. your fingers slippery on your swollen clit, pumping your vibrator inside your creamy cunt. he bit his lip to keep from moaning as he fisted his cock.

"scara! scara!" you whimper, your legs shaking as you pinch and rub your clit. your hips roll up to fuck your dripping cunt on the toy, alternating between pinching your nipples and rubbing your clit. "i'll be a good girl, i promise. pretty please, cum inside me."

"that's right, fuck that toy into your hole like it's my cock," he murmurs, his cock pulsing hard in his hand listening to your moans. you wouldn't stop moaning or crying for him, whimpering when the toy felt extra good on your sweet spot.

his body spasms against the wall as he cums hard in his hand, watching your body tremble with orgasm. panting softly, his strokes his pulsing cock to nurse himself through his orgasm.

the knob on the door suddenly turned. scaramouche's eyes widen, seeing the executive that had been giving the speech on stage open the door. he calmly put his dick back in his pants, got some tissue from the box off the bench to wipe his hand. "nice speech," he said, patting the guy on his shoulder with his clean hand.

[mobbu-min]

☆ yummy in my tummy ☆

requested by:

After reading the pretty boy fics, I got to ask: "How would the dorm leaders (and the rest if you want to write about them) react to being given food from the reader (who cooks and bakes god tier food) who is concerned for their wellbeing?" - anon Headcanons for Dorm Leaders with an s/o who loves to spoil them with delicious homemade meals, sweets and snacks. - anon Could I request something domestic? Housewardens with an s/o that cooks for them almost everyday? -anon

a/n I decided to combine these three requests! I'm not sure if there were anymore of the same variety, so if I missed it, I'm sorry T^T Gonna split this into three parts, so keep an eye out for the other two! I wanted to keep this vague, i didn’t mention any type of specific food, but make it known, i am craving tamales so badly

included: grim, all of heartslabyul and savanaclaw

tw none

Ramshackle <3

⋆ He eats your food every day. Your best customer is the one and only GRIM THE GREAT! Food always tastes good to this little guy, but food made by you? Top tier! Nothing could beat it (the overblot stones probably could) He’s a pain in your ass when you're cooking/baking, constantly trying to get a nibble from your ingredients. His hungry ass is just too impatient. After a long and hard day, all he wants is to lay back and eat some tuna and one of your sweet treats for dessert. It's the best way to end his day.

Heartslabyul <3

⋆ You see once you start cooking for them, you’re not going to stop. Cater and Ace make sure of it. They all love your cooking! They feel so loved and cared for with each dish you lovingly made for them. Does this contribute to their ever growing feelings for you?

⋆ Yes, yes it does.

⋆ Riddle was kinda on edge by it. Not because he thought you were a horrible cook, he’s tasted Ace’s cooking before, but because he didn’t understand the warm feeling in his chest. Riddle’s mother never cooked, instead she had chefs cook the blandest (healthy, she claimed) foods for them both. He’s never felt the warmth and comfort from a home cooked dish. Trey is an excellent cook, and even better baker, but it’s Trey. You were different, always had been to him. Riddle almost moaned at the taste of the different spices and flavors that exploded in his mouth. This boy has never tasted so many all at once. It was truly an eye opener. Riddle asks if you could teach him some recipes.

⋆ So relieved. Trey is just the epitome of a parent finally sitting down after a long day when you come to help in the kitchen or bring containers of food. Trey finds himself visiting you at Ramshackle more often, with the intention of learning or cooking with you. But ends up with you ushering him to sit down and you’ll be back with some fresh soup. He really does appreciate your presence, everything about you is so comforting and lively, so you making amazing food is an added bonus. Loves to learn about different foods from your world, even more so any type of pastry/sweet! Considers asking if you want to do a bake off, but decided not to, because he knew everyone would choose you. (he would do the same tbh)

⋆ If you didn’t have a magicam account dedicated to your cooking before, well now you do! Cater will take photos of every dish you made, going on a long rant on how this is the most delicious food he’s ever eaten. If you let him, he'll post pictures and videos of you cooking/baking on the account. The account is as comforting as your food. Ofc, he has tons and tons of photos and videos on his phone of you. Cater looks forwards to whatever you make, but is especially touched when you bake something that isn’t incredibly sweet or something entirely different then what you made the others. It makes him feel special.

⋆ Ace didn’t consider himself a picky eater, at least not until he ate your food! Boy will not leave you alone. He's constantly begging you to make him food and treats. Saying 'you just killed a poor starving boy, gootbye-' and just crashes onto you. Ace just really enjoys your cooking and he melts whenever you bring him food without him asking (begging). He’s the type of person to sit on the counter and talk while you’re busy doing things all around the kitchen. It briefly reminds him of his own childhood. It’s oddly domestic that it sikes him out for a moment. But then he glances at you and suddenly that feeling is replaced with a warm fluttering feeling in his chest. (don’t question the blush on his cheeks ofc)

⋆ Deuce isn’t one for taking photos but every thing you’ve ever made him has been instantly snapped and sent to his mom. (who loves knowing that her darling son is eating well) He’s not as obvious as Ace, but Deuce tries to slyly suggest that you make him more food. And of course, he’s more than willing to help. Again, unlike Ace who sits and talks, Deuce follows you around the kitchen like a duckling, patiently awaiting your orders. He wants to be helpful! Will gladly take anything out of the oven and carry any heavy materials. Will crash if you hold up a spoon for him to taste test. Isn’t this romantic? He asks himself as he shakily takes the spoon into his mouth. Omg, and if he sees you do your own taste test with the same spoon? Oh sevens, help you both.

Savanaclaw <3

⋆ Another group that doesn’t let you stop cooking/baking for them. But at least you have free access to a buttload of money and two very eager helpers (for very different reasons)

⋆ Leona isn’t a stranger to good, probably excellent, cooked meals. He’s a prince, duh. But when it’s a meal cooked by you? Everything that he’s eaten up til now is straight trash. Pride is one way to describe how he feels, quickly followed by smug. Of course, you’d dedicate your time and energy to cook him a meal. And of course, you poured your love into every step. He’ll eat practically anything you give him, though he will side eye the vegetables and discreetly give them to Ruggie. As for sweet things, he’s not a big fan of sweets. I feel like he’d like savory flavors, maybe a little bitter or maybe a little tart. Or perhaps something with subtle flavors but a hearty texture. I’m just speculating of course, so it’s always a hit or miss when it comes to baked goods with him. Though, don’t worry, nothing you make goes to waste. Ruggie is always ready to swoop in when needed. And as mentioned before, Leona knows ingredients can get spendy, so he’s more than willing to hand you his credit card.

⋆ Speaking of credit cards, Ruggie just always happens to be in the same vicinity when that black card hits your hands. Ruggie wouldn’t call himself the greatest chef, but he is resourceful. With everything you cook, Ruggie shows you how to get the most out of your ingredients. He even shows you some low-budget/free ingredients you can find all over campus and how to make it. Ruggie is honestly a good person to have by your side when it comes to cooking, you learn plenty of new things and you get to share your own knowledge to someone you know will share with others. However, Ruggie isn’t someone that does something for free. So he expects to be taking half of whatever you're making back with him. On a cuter note, Ruggie practically bursts into two when you show up with a container full of warm, mouth watering, doughnuts. Judging by how fast Ruggies tail was wagging, you were afraid that he was about to fly up into space.

⋆ Despite his tendencies to try to keep his emotions to himself, Jack really does appreciate the effort you put in to make his meals protein pack and nutritious. And while he’s not the greatest cook, Jack helps the best he can in the kitchen. Though, he’s a little clumsy (if his culinary crucible says otherwise, no it doesn’t) but he’s eager! Jack is a quick learner so it doesn't take him very long to get the hang of things. Definitely subtly brags about it to the other first years. But if any of them dares to mention how fast his tail is wagging, he gets all pouty with embarrassment. I definitely suggest keeping it to meals and not sweet. Jack is not a sweet guy at all. Though he might indulge if you give him puppy-dog eyes.

[mintmatcha]

i second that other ask more of that sero x reader I beg

cw: depression, mentions of unhealthy weight loss

Kirishima hasn't seen you for days. When he knocks on your door, he can hear you moving around inside, but you never answer. The meals his mother makes sit on your welcome mat until they start to rot and he's forced to bring them back inside.

He knows it's because of Sero. He just doesn't know what to do about it.

It's one night that he manages to trap you by the apartment's garbage bin. You're carrying a box that's overfilled with things, wearing sweatpants and a dreadfully oversized top.

"Hey!" He tries to keep his voice friendly, unconcerned. "I've missed you!"

The roundness of your face is puffy and ruddy from crying. You shrug, eyes cast low. Your frame is thinner, but in a way that looks gaunt and unhealthy.

"Been busy."

"My mom wants you to come over for dinner soon," he tries. "She said she'll made whatever you want-- hey, are you throwing out your anime stuff?"

The box in your arms is stuffed with plastic pieces and ripped scraps of paper, most brightly colored, some back and white. It's the unmistakable hues of anime merch, carelessly jammed into a box and purposefully ruined.

"Yeah." With no preamble, you hoist the box into the garbage and let it fall with a thud. "I don't want it anymore."

Something doesn't feel right in his chest. It's raw, like an exposed nerve, begging for attention.

"What?" he tries to laugh. "That's crazy. Your apartment's gonna be so empty."

You don't react to that. All you do is scuff your slipper against the concrete, back and forth, as if you're just waiting for this to be over. You'd never been a social person, but this feels different. It's like you're not there anymore, gone behind the eyes.

"I'm sorry. About Sero being an asshole." Kirishima blurts out. "He shouldn't have-"

"Don't, Kirishima." You've never called him by his family name before. "It's my own fault."

You dip around him and his trash bag to go back inside, no goodbye, no eye contact. Just like that, you're gone, and he's left standing there, under the fluorescent street lamp with his quaking, horrible sickness brewing inside him.

It rocks in his stomach all night, so badly that he can't eat breakfast. By lunch, he's starving, but Sero has sat himself on Momo's desk and the memory of how dad you looked makes bile bite the back of his throat.

"You okay, buddy?" Fatgum asks that night during his internship work. Tamaki watches silently, but with an equally concerned look. Kirishima thinks that you two would have gotten along-- and that thought nearly makes him throw up. "You haven't eaten anything."

For once, Kirishima is aware of how young sixteen really is, how helpless youth can leave him. He's just a kid and he's dealing with too much.

"I think there's something wrong with my friend."

The next few weeks go quickly. One day, you're there. The next, the apartment is up for rent. Both Fatgum and his mom reassure him that you're okay, just back home with your parents for the time being. He asks if he can visit, and his mom just gives him that look she always does.

"Oh, Eijiro." his mother cups his cheek. "You're a sweet boy."

The next day, Sero is talking to some girl in class B. Kirishima'a stomach still goes sour.

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (3)

Part Three

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, no smut, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Masterlist

Terry stood in the large living room, looking at himself in the full body mirror as he tightened his tie. He stared at this version of himself for a long minute. He wasn’t the tuxedo wearing type but he had to admit it didn’t look bad on him. 

Khloé had managed to hire the perfect tailor to be sure the tux would fit just right. Terry spent hours being measured, trying on different jackets and pants, and walking back and forth to ensure comfort while wearing the tux. 

She was there for every moment of it, taking him in each time he removed a shirt and replaced it with a different one. She noticed the scar on his back near his right shoulder. She wanted so badly to ask him about being shot but she decided not to. She assumed that would be too much of a sensitive subject and she didn’t want to go that route.  

Terry looked down at his watch, a simple black watch that had to be approved by Khloé of course. He was big on being punctual as well, so he made sure to keep up with time even when Khloé wasn’t. 

“Your car is down stairs, everything is set and ready to go.” Olivia said, walking into the living room. 

Terry turned to face her unsure of who she was talking to. 

“I’m driving?” 

“Yes sir, a luxury sedan has been rented for the evening. Ms. MacArthur prefers not to have drivers, she’s very strict on privacy.” Olivia spoke quickly. “The destination is already in the GPS for you. The directions will begin as soon as you pull off.” 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and proceeded to take a seat on the large sectional sofa. He looked down at his phone, reading the messages that were pouring in from Summer. 

‘A $16,000 check just came in the mail, I know you had something to do with it!!’

‘I can’t accept this, how am I going to pay it back?’ 

‘This is too good to be true, call me as soon as you can!’ 

He was so focused on the text messages, he didn’t notice Khloé enter the room until the scent of soft florals hit his nostrils.  

“How do I look?” She asked, staring at him, a bit of innocence in her voice. 

He eyed her, starting from her feet and making his way up to the crown of her head. The long red dress she wore accentuated her hips and brought in her waist. The details were subtle but didn’t go unnoticed by Terry. The strapless dress lifted her breasts, bringing out the natural shape of them. Her hair was pinned in a beautiful updo with a few pieces framing her face, a soft curl in each. And to top it all off her signature red lip, which was clearly her favorite… and his. 

The longer he stared, the more she felt herself wanting to shrink a bit but she did her best to remain unmoved. He hardly ever wore his emotions on his sleeve so reading him was becoming a bit of a challenge for her. The nervous feeling quickly began to fade as she saw his expression soften. 

“You look beautiful.” He stood. “Red fits you perfectly.” 

She smiled at him. 

“Well let’s go, I really don’t wanna be late.” She said, grabbing her small clutch purse. “My mother won’t let me hear the last of it.” 

They headed to the lobby of the condominium. As they passed through, they earned a few stares. People couldn’t help but to turn their attention to the two of them. Khloé strutting across the floor, Terry not too far behind her. They both had very demanding auras and together their energies swarmed the room without warning. 

“I have a question.” Terry said. 

“Ask.” 

“Is this something I need to get used to?” Terry questioned, referring to the looks they received a while ago. 

“Absolutely.” She smiled up at him. 

Their car was parked in front, a young man wearing a valet jacket stood by to be sure the car went untouched. The glossy black sedan sat already running, headlights shining bright. 

Without her needing to say anything, Terry walked ahead of her and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to climb in. 

“Ooh,” She started. “Keep it up and you might earn yourself a treat.” 

Terry smirked, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. He got into the driver's seat and adjusted the seat to his liking, scooting it back until he had the proper leg room. 

“A few things I need to go over before we get there.” She began. “If anyone asks where we met, we met on vacation.” 

“How long have we been together?” He asked, putting the gear in drive and pulling off. 

“6 months. Tell them you’re in real estate. They’re gonna wanna know if you make enough money to be with me.” 

He looked over at her as they approached a red light. 

“My family only sees money, they believe that’s the only thing that’ll keep me happy. They don’t care about love or any emotions for that matter. As long as the money flows, they will mind their damn business.” She said looking over at him. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds until the bright traffic light went green. Khloé went on to tell him how he should go about speaking to her parents, what to say and what to do. She filled him in on the latest drama with her siblings and her cousins and made sure to tell him who to look out for and who to avoid at all costs. 

“Anything else I should know?” 

“Lastly, my cousin Nia. She’s a bitch. I hate her, she hates me. She’s been in competition with me since we were teenagers. I get a car, she gets a car, I get a diamond bracelet, she gets a diamond bracelet, I go to Harvard, bitch breaks her neck to go to Yale.” She pointed a stern finger to him. “You can mingle with anyone at the banquet but stay away from that sneaky bitch.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

The car ride the rest of the way was silent but the tension was impossible to ignore. Every now and then Khloé would sneak glances over at Terry while he drove, one hand on the wheel the other on his lap. She stared at his hands imagining what they’d feel like inside of her. Images of him playing in her pussy while he drove began flashing in her mind and she quickly tore her gaze from him.

He could feel her eyes on him but his expression never changed. If there was one thing he’d taken away from being a marine, it was keeping his poker face intact. There was no way she’d know what he was really thinking unless he decided to let it be known.  

“You have reached your destination.” 

They pulled up in front of the large banquet hall surrounded by guests and valet. Finally coming back into reality Khloé took a deep breath before exiting the car. 

“I got it.” Terry said, before she could grab the door handle. 

Khloé smiled to herself. ‘This one comes trained.’

He rounded the car and opened her door, placing his hand out for her to grab. She stepped out of the car and smiled at some of the guests who were entering the banquet the same time as her. 

“Ready?” She asked. 

“Ready.” 

They reached for each other's hands simultaneously, intertwining their fingers as they made their way into the building. The sound of soft music playing in the background filled their ears, along with light chatter from guests. 

They stopped at the double doors that were propped open, leading into the ballroom. Turning to him, she began fixing his tie, not that it needed fixing but to simply try and cover her nervousness. She tightened his tie, dusted his shoulders and tugged lightly on his collar. 

“I make you that nervous?” Terry smirked, staring down at her. 

“As pretty as your lips are, they're gonna keep you in trouble.” She smirked back. “Let’s enjoy the banquet.” 

Khloe held onto his arm as they entered the large ballroom. Each table was draped in white cloth, expensive tableware and champagne flutes. A large banner with the words “MacArthur Banquet” hung from the ceiling just above the small stage in the room. Khloé looked around the room taking in her surroundings. Unlike Terry, Khloé didn’t do that good of a job at hiding her emotions. 

She worried about what her parents' would think of her date. She’d hoped and prayed they wouldn’t go digging into his background to find out that not only is he a warehouse worker but that he’s also a bit of a rebel. 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, snapping her of her thoughts. 

“Hi Daddy!” She ran to him, giving him a hug as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. 

She greeted the woman standing next to him, placing a kiss on her cheek as well. Terry stood, admiring how they embraced each other. It was clear to him that this was her mother, the woman was a spitting image of Khloé just a bit older. 

“It’s so good to see you, you look so beautiful.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled, holding onto her daughter's hand. 

Her father tore his eyes from her and they landed on Terry. “Who is this?” 

“Mom, Dad, this is Terrance.” Khloé stepped back to stand next to Terry, placing a hand on his arm. 

“Terrance this is my dad, John MacArthur and my mom Angela MacArthur.” 

“You got a last name Terrance?” Mr. MacArthur asked, placing his hand out for Terry to shake. 

“Terrance Richmond sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Terry responded, firmly shaking the man’s hand and then her mothers. 

“The pleasure is ours. It’s good to see she has someone keeping her company. I just hope you’re a strong and patient man, my Khloé can be a handful at times.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled up at him. She turned her gaze to her daughter, bringing her into another embrace. “Don’t screw this one over, okay? You don’t want to be old and alone.” 

Khloé clenched her jaw before replacing the menacing look with a fake grin. Mr. MacArthur and Mrs. MacArthur excused themselves from the two as they made their way around the room, greeting guests as they entered. 

Terry noticed the sudden change in Khloés expression no matter how hard she tried to disguise it. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“I’m fine.” She responded, running her hands down the length of her dress. “Let’s have a seat, they’re about to begin.” 

The family banquet began with greetings from Mr. and Mrs. MacArthur. The couple stood on stage thanking guests for joining them for another banquet and proceeded with their usual program. 

The banquet was yet another success as it had been for the past few years. There were small awards and acknowledgments being made all evening. From praises for large sales, increasing income and openings of new locations for the family business, the banquet had gone exactly as planned. 

However Terry couldn’t help but sense Khloés tense energy. It didn’t help that she had become a bit fidgety. Fixing her hair every 10 minutes, wiping invisible lent from his jacket and plastering an artificial smile on her face each time she would interact with the other guests. 

It wasn’t necessarily Terry's place to ask her about her relationship with her parents but he was very curious. He tried his hardest to remind himself of why he was even there to begin with. 

‘I’m doing her a favor, she’s doing me a favor.’ 

“I’m gonna go catch up with a few people, you’ll be alright by yourself won’t you?” She asked. 

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.” He replied, taking a sip of water. 

“Stop testing me Mr. Richmond.” She warned, referring to his smart comment. 

He smiled, placing his glass back on the table. 

Khloé got up and made her way around the room for a bit, grabbing glasses of champagne as they were being offered to her. She mingled with family and friends, sharing memories of the past and hopes of the future. After a few glasses, she was really feeling the effects of the alcohol. A sudden boost of confidence washed over her, bringing her right back to her normal self. 

Remembering she had the finest gentleman in the room as her date, she wanted to make sure she was attending to him. She looked over to their table, hoping his eyes were already on her. Her excitement quickly faded once she noticed who he was talking to. 

“Excuse me, I hope I’m not being too forward but you are so handsome.” A woman said, causing Terry to look her way. 

She was tall, slim and snatched like a supermodel. She was a pretty woman but her style clashed with her looks. She wore a royal blue dress, bright gold accessories and red lipstick. Almost similar to Khloés but not quite. 

“Thank you.” He smiled humbly. 

“I’m Imani, I’m Khloés older cousin.” She held out her hand, palm facing down as if she was waiting for him to kiss it. 

He stared at it for a few seconds and decided to shake it instead. 

“Nice to meet you Imani, I’m Terrance.”

Imani laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Respecting your girlfriend I see, but I understand. I’m sure if she found out I was talking to you she’d lose her shit. She’s been in a silent competition with me since we were kids but she’s my little cousin so I’m flattered.” 

Terry nodded, allowing the woman to speak freely simply because he wasn’t interested in speaking to her at all. There was just something about her energy that wasn’t sitting right with him but he didn’t want to be entirely rude to her. After all, he was a guest at her family’s event. 

“Oops, I should go, she’s staring. Don’t wanna get you in any trouble. Enjoy the night handsome.” She said flipping her ponytail off of her shoulder and twisting her hips as hard as she could hoping he was watching. 

But his eyes met Khloés from across the room. She didn’t necessarily look pissed but she didn’t look too happy either. The look on her face was stern almost as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. He quickly recalled the name of the person he was told not to mingle with. 

‘Nia.’ He thought to himself, shrugging because he was in the clear. 

He relaxed in his chair, sitting back and parting his legs from one another but she still hadn’t broken their gaze. It was as if they were communicating with one another without needing to say anything at all.

After a few moments, she smiled and made her way across the room to him.   

“Dance with me Mr. Richmond.” She stated, staring down at him through a tipsy gaze. 

Terry stood as she grabbed his hand and led them to the small dance floor. They joined a few other guests on the floor as well. Some were relatives of Khloés, others just friends of the family. 

Once they reached a secure spot, they embraced each other. Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, silently thanking herself for wearing heels given his height. Terry’s hands snaked around her waist and they slowly swayed to the soft music. The longer they danced, the more Terry could feel Khloé slowly relaxing in his embrace. 

They rested their heads against the others, her forehead comfortable against this jaw. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Khloé asked.

“Of course.” 

“I didn’t tell you the full reason as to why I offered you the money to be my boyfriend.” She started. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“I mean yes I need you for events and to keep my family quiet but…” Her voice faded. 

“But?” 

She took a deep breath and told him all that he needed to know. 

“The truth is I want you in the worst way.”

She felt his jaw clench against her temple as she spoke.

“The moment I saw you, the things I began to see in my mind were so… vivid.” 

“What did you see?” He questioned, keeping his voice as low as possible. 

Khloés breath caught in her throat at his question. She thought her honesty would tear him from her. Her admitting that she was simply lusting after him should’ve bothered him but instead he leaned into it. 

“I imagined the view I’d have of you, from down on my knees. I imagined how much fun I would have edging you until you begged me to let you cum. I saw myself tying you to the bed and riding you for as long as I wanted.” 

Terry’s jaw clenched once more but he remained silent, still holding onto her waist.  

“You’d cum again and again and again.” The longer she spoke, the easier it was becoming to speak freely. 

She looked around the room to be sure no one was paying them any attention and she was right. They continued to sway back and forth to the soft music being played by the live band. She could feel his heartbeat increase as she held onto him. His breathing was steady but the rest of him was rising. 

“I felt bad at first because you seemed like a sweet and innocent guy. But in all honesty, I enjoy dominating men.” She admitted. “Not just any men but the ones who reek of dominance, men like you. The ones who walk around so unbothered, so unfazed. Always wearing a straight face because nothing can sway you. But I know you want to feel my lips around your dick. That’s why you get so stuck in a daze staring at them while I’m talking to you.” She spoke, her lips gently brushing against his neck.

Terry let out a deep breath but still remained silent. There was no need in denying any of what she was saying because all of it was true. 

“You know what I love the most about the male anatomy? It’s that no matter how much you try to hide it, no matter how still your expression is, I’ll always know how bad you want me.” She brought her hand to the back of his head and lowered it so her lips were level with his ear. 

“I can feel you through my dress.” She whispered. 

Terry tightened the hold he had on her waist, bringing her even closer to him. He was hoping that no one else would notice the “excitement” that she was feeling. Deep down, he wanted so desperately to drag her off the dance floor and find the nearest bathroom or utility closet, but he was at her command. He wouldn’t move until she gave the green light to do so. 

“Why are you so quiet Mr. Richmond, cat got your tongue?” She teased. 

“No ma’am, I just don’t have a lot to say right now. Only a couple of things I wanna do.” 

She giggled at his response. She had him exactly where she wanted him, craving her but unable to do anything about it. They were in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by dozens of people, there was no way he’d do anything to draw attention to the two of them. 

“I was looking forward to tasting you tonight but your behavior needs adjusting.”

Terry stood up straight, bringing his eyes to meet hers. 

“What’s wrong with my behavior?” He asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers. 

Before Khloé could respond, her mothers voice erupted through the speakers. Khloé turned to face the stage, pressing her back against his abdomen. She figured since she was the cause for his excitement the least she could do was help him conceal it. 

“Thank you all so much for another successful MacArthur banquet! Congratulations to all of the recipients of tonight’s awards.” Mrs. MacArthur spoke into the mic. “We love to see our family and friends grow in business, in love and in prosperity as the years go by.” 

Everyone applauded as she made her closing announcements. 

“Don’t forget to grab a goodie bag on the way out and please drive home safely. We will see you all next year, goodnight and God bless!” 

Khloé turned to grab her things from their table, she said her goodbyes to her family and made her way to the car. Terry was right behind her, replaying the night in his mind. He did just as he was told, interacting with little to no guests and speaking when spoken to. So what was she talking about?

“Do you have the ticket for valet?” Khloé asked him a bit nonchalantly. 

Terry dug into his pocket and handed the ticket to the man dressed in a red jacket. Within a few minutes their car was pulled to the front of the hall. Terry opened the door for her and then made his way to the driver's side. 

“What was wrong with my behavior tonight?” Terry asked, looking over at her. 

“Just drive please.” She spoke softly, not even bothering to look over at him. 

Terry took a deep breath before pulling away from the curb. They made their way back into the streets of downtown. The ride was silent once again. Terry was racking his brain trying to figure out what she was talking about but nothing was coming to the surface. Khloé sat quietly, not planning on telling him what he did wrong until they were back at her place. 

“You have reached your destination.” 

Terry unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car. A few seconds later, he opened Khloés door and waited for her to step out. He handed the keys to the valet and they made their way into the building. Khloé walked a few feet ahead of him, enjoying the feeling of having this grown man following behind her everywhere she went. 

Khloé pressed the button to call the elevator and stepped inside once the doors opened. Terry pressed the button marked ‘30’ and they sat silently for the majority of the ride up to her condo. 

“When we get upstairs, take off your jacket and dress shirt and wait for me in the living room.” Khloé instructed, keeping her eyes forward. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“30th floor” 

The two made their way down the long hall and entered her home. Terry did as he was asked and placed his clothes on the arm of the couch. He took a seat, only dressed in his undershirt and pants. While Khloé was off in her room, he took this time to respond to Summers' messages letting her know that he’d be by to explain everything to her. 

Khloé stepped into her bathroom to remove her dress. She wore a black panty and bra set underneath, already prepared for the night. She grabbed her black satin robe and slipped into it, not bothering to remove her heels. Taking one last look in the mirror to be sure she looked good, she made her way into the living room. 

“Stand when I enter the room.” She spoke, causing Terry’s head to snap up. 

He stood from the couch and eyed her from head to toe. Her body was heavent sent. Decorated in lace fabric, her skin slightly glistened from the mixture of body shimmer and the soft lighting in the room. His dick began growing in his pants again as she stood there staring at him. 

“Come.” She said, pointing her finger to a spot directly in front of her. 

Terry walked around the small coffee table, slowly approaching her until the top of their shoes were almost touching. She loved that he towered over her even in her heels. As intimidating as he could be at times, she enjoyed the fact that she was the one truly in charge.  

“Before I start, you do get a say in this, I’m not a completely inconsiderate bitch.” She started. “If you don’t want to do this just say so and I’ll call it off.” 

“Did you hear me say that?” He asked. There was that smart ass mouth again. 

Khloé smirked at his question. “I need your consent Mr. Richmond.” 

“You have my consent Ms. MacArthur.” He stared down at her with a sly grin on his face. 

“You’re familiar with these right?” Khloé held up a pair of handcuffs, loosely dangling off of her fingers. 

Terry let out a light chuckle, still keeping his eyes on hers. 

“Turn around.” She instructed. 

Terry did as he was told. 

This was the first time she was seeing him nearly undressed, up close like this. Her eyes roamed from his freshly cut hair, down to the back of his neck and landed on his broad shoulders. She licked her lips as her eyes continued down the length of his toned arms, and finally landed on his ass. She held her breath as she tried to restrain herself from saying “fuck it” and pouncing on him. 

“You gone spank me for being a bad boy?” He joked sarcastically, bringing her back to the present. 

“You’re not funny. Besides I don’t like to cause pain, at least not in that way.” She answered, placing the cuffs around his wrists and clicking them closed. She grabbed his arm and walked him to the end of the sofa. She turned him round until he faced her and took a few steps back. 

They stared at each other for a while. There was no need to speak because the amount of hunger in the room from both parties spoke volumes. Terry stood tall, hands behind his back, eyes low and rested on hers. The wifebeater he wore almost clung to him the way his toned body filled the thin fabric. Terry waited patiently for her next command, his expression remaining as calm as ever. 

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Khloé stood there secretly hoping that this would be her last partner or simply one that could last her a very long time. She doubted that she’d ever come across someone else who was crafted as perfectly as he was. His body, his voice, his eyes, his whole damn face and especially those damn lips. She only hoped that his skills in bed matched his looks. 

“On your knees.” 

to be continued… 

[rainybubbles]

141 coming back to you after a eight months mission

Plus size reader :) !

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC)

G H O S T

-Eight long months, every fiber of his being yearned for a hot shower, his eyes struggled to stay open.

- Yet, it wasn't his shabby apartment that the taxi drove to.

-Simon, buried beneath the Ghost's mask, still held a glimmer of humanity within him, a breath hidden beneath Ghost's blood, death, and violence.

-But on that evening, what he ardently desired was them: their gentleness, their scent, their warmth.

-Like a wild animal slowly tamed by food, he returned to them whenever possible.

-Under the pouring rain, he advanced, hastily thanking the driver, the heavy bags weighing on his shoulders.

-He stepped into the still slumbering pastry shop, and the bell rang.

-And there they appeared.

- Covered in flour, with a pastry cap and apron, they were surprised to find someone there at five in the morning.

-"Simon," they murmured.

-The sound of his name was so sweet, so soothing.

- But he wanted more.

-He wanted them to whisper his name over and over again, filled with desire, until they could only utter it, clouded with pleasure.

-His bags fell to the ground, and his arms enveloped them in an instinctive movement.

- Their hair smelled of sugar and butter, the flour staining their black sweater. Simon wanted more.

-"Y/n"

-" I missed you," they whispered.

-He couldn't bring himself to respond, to admit this longing, but they could sense it.

-His arms didn't let them go.

-"Scone?" they asked.

-"No. "

-"Muffin?"

- "No."

-" Croissant?"

- "You," he finally said.

A silence stretched between them.

-"I have to finish my batch, I open in an hour. Do you think you can wait?"

-No, he couldn't. But reason prevailed, and he nodded.

-"I'll help you," he murmured.

-"You barely know how to fold a dough."

-"I can follow orders."

-"Sorry, soldier."

-Their laughter echoed, and a sense of relief washed over him.

- He wanted to hear that sound again and again.

- In silence, they worked. Simon followed every move, ignoring the pain, stretching each muscle. He was ready for anything.

-When the last batch was ready and the saleswoman arrived, Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

-Y/n gave their final instructions and left.

-Alone on the street, they walked together.

-Like a starving beast, Simon jumped at every crumb of affection, grabbing their hand, his fingers brushing theirs through gloves.

-"We need to talk, don't we?" they finally admitted.

-"Yes," he replied.

- "About what happened before your deployment…"

-The kiss. A hurried kiss, without thought.

- Lips so soft, erasing the bad news of his deployment and eight long months of silence.

-"I… "

-'Don't say you regret it," he finally said.

-"No, I don't. I mean it. But I don't want it to destroy us."

-"It won't."

-"I know you avoid people, Simon. Attachment."

-"Yes."

-But not them, he thought

- Since the moment his feet led him to that pastry shop. Simon knew he was doomed.

- A stupid cake for Soap's nephew, and he found himself charmed by a baker making incredible scones.

-Simon had become a regular there, a man of habit enjoying the good things, he told himself.

- It was close, he said.

-Close to his shabby apartment, to his gym.

-Just a daily stop for coffee and scones, he reasoned.

- But every morning, his eager eyes searched for their silhouette.

-Their rolls, their belly, their thighs, that smile.

- Every crumb he could get, he took.

-They eventually noticed him.

-A mountain of muscles, hidden by a mask, softened by scones, it wasn't the most discreet.

-They greeted him.

-Always the first customer at dawn.

-In reality, Simon came so early out of military habit but also to avoid the saleswoman.

-Simon desired the baker, not the small, slim saleswoman.

-Slowly, they spoke to him, and everything fell into place.

- They had become his anchor, an anchor in reality.

- A tough mission, and he came to them silently, without needing to place an order, without having to face the crowd, slipping to the back and watching them work.

-No questions, just comfort.

-The smell of sugar, flour, and eggs permeated his clothes in the most exquisite way.

-And now he dreamed of a life where this scent would be constant.

-"I don't want us to drift apart," they said.

-"We won't," he assured them.

-"So, what do we do, Simon?"

-"Kiss me."

-It was a prayer, a barely audible order, a cry for help.

-Slowly his mask fell.

- Their eyes met, hesitant but filled with desire.

-And they kissed him.

- In that dark street, under the pouring rain.

-"Again," he murmured.

-"We have to go back," they said.

- "I don't care about going back," he replied.

- "Simon, you don't want to spend your leave sick."

-"If I stay with you, I do."

-"Idiot."

- "For you."

-Their laughter burst out, and Simon kissed them again to capture it.

-Slowly, they finally arrived at their place.

-Their dog welcomed them, barking happily at Simon. And after eight long months, Simon could finally breathe.

-"I'm home," he murmured.

- "We were waiting for you," they replied.

-Nothing surpassed this feeling, he thought as he kissed them again.

-Simon was a man, and like any man, he had finally found his long-desired home in their arms.

__________

P R I C E

-In an emotionally charged atmosphere, Price let the water flow slowly, carrying away the remnants of blood under his nails.

-After eight long months, he felt like a ship drifting without a course, without a real destination.

-At least that's what he claimed to anyone who would listen, but the ring hanging under his uniform whispered different truths to him.

-Staring at his own reflection, Price read the inscription inside the ring, a name he hadn't uttered in years.

- Like enchanted by a spell whose charm he feared, he hesitated to whisper it again.

-Yet, his heart demanded it.

-He knew it was the longing that drove him.

-Without those eight months, he wouldn't be here, longing desperately to have them back in his arms.

-(It was false; since the divorce was signed, he dreamt of them.)

-Since the day their marriage ended, he had wanted to throw himself at their feet and beg them to come back.

- He desired their warmth, their ridiculous work stories, their cooking, their scent, their fingers, their kisses.

-They were the oasis in the desert of his life, and through negligence, he had let them evaporate.

- It all dated back to before his promotion to captain.

- Back then, he was just a young lieutenant full of ambition, willing to sacrifice anything to obtain that coveted title.

-But the long hours at the office had gradually poisoned his time with them, an absence they had signaled to him, one he had ignored, one he had maintained until everything exploded like a grenade.

-Now, he stood there, on the minefield of his emotional life with a ring they had probably forgotten, longing to hear them say yes once again.

-As he dried himself off, Price settled into his office.

-He told himself it was just simple nostalgia, but the bitter taste of tobacco wasn't enough to distract him, remembering how much they hated that smell. He extinguished his cigar.

-To take his mind off things, he decided to go to the nearest bookstore. A good book would be welcome, he thought.

-"John?"

-That voice, which had haunted him for three years and eight long months of divorce.

-"Y/N."

-It had been so long.

-Too long, he thought, seeing them so different.

- He admired their new haircut, their new clothes. What a lucky man he had been.

-"Yes. Still teaching?"

-"Yes. And you, did you manage to become a captain?"

-"Yes."

-The silence stretched, their eyes avoiding his.

-"But it wasn't worth it," he admitted.

-"Too much work?"

-"Not enough of you"

-"John," they interrupted.

-"I'm not trying to get us back together, far from it. I know it won't happen, but I wanted to be honest with you. I think this divorce has been the biggest failure of my life, and you deserved better than me."

-Hesitantly, they opened their mouth, a mouth he had kissed so many times, one that had shared all their troubles, all their doubts.

-"Thank you, John. But I'm also to blame. I should have told you everything that was going on in my head, everything that wasn't right."

-"You couldn't, when all I listened to were orders."

-"Maybe…"

-"Good person, wrong time, it seems."

-"Nothing prevents us from correcting the timing, right?"

-John raised an eyebrow.

-"It doesn't mean we have to start all over, but… you've been a pillar in my life, John. I missed you. Whether as friends or more, it doesn't matter."

-"Thank you, love," John murmured.

-They approached him, and during this long absence, John could finally feel human warmth again.

-To just be John again, not Captain Price.

-Their hands wrapped around each other.

-They both knew it wouldn't be purely platonic, but like a suspended promise, for now, they would stick to it, hoping that one day the rings would find their respective places again.

-Theirs from their drawer to their finger, and his from his neck to his hand.

-"I missed you."

-"You too. Tell me what I've missed."

-And John could only smile.

-If these eight months of hell, these three years of desert led him back to them, then it was worth it, he decided.

- So when he packed for his next return, the soldiers watched him curiously because for once the captain had a home where he really wanted to be.

_________

S O A P

-Immersed in an ocean of turmoil, Soap returned after eight months of absence, longing to celebrate his return with his family.

-His thoughts, drowned in alcohol and his mother's reprimands, were rocked by the cheery laughter of his nephews and nieces.

-Between the urge to scream and the desire to simply savor their presence, he oscillated.

-When the festivities finally came to an end, he could finally breathe.

-Eight months.

- Alone in his flat, memories flooded in, evoking strategies, bombs, deafening tumult, and lingering smells.

-Everything was an attempt at distraction; the television, the rain, a run, a cup of tea, messages on his mobile.

-He longed for something, even if he didn't know exactly what.

-But it was missing, creeping under his skin little by little, scratching at the door of his mind.

-"Again, really?'

-His eyes fell on his neighbour.

-The same one who had endured his screams at three in the morning, his hurried departures on missions, his heavy suitcases dragged at seven in the morning.

- And now, at four o'clock, they stood before him, a mischievous gleam in their eyes, the result of an incident involving dumbbells in his hands.

-"Sorry.", he apologized.

-"I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

-"On purpose…? "He raised an eyebrow.

-"So that we see each other. You know, like in those cliché romances where the noisy neighbour ends up seducin' the complainin' neighbour."

-Incredulous, he couldn't help but laugh.

-"Ye wouldn't need that."

-A teasing smile stretched across his neighbour's lips.

-"I know. But you seem to need it. Not an adventure, but a distraction."

-They referred to the dumbbells.

-"Aye."

-"I make cookies." they said.

-"At 4 a.m.?"

-"I know how to keep myself busy in silence."

-"…"

-"Interested?" they asked.

-The latent feeling under Soap's skin resurfaced.

-He nodded and followed them. And then he realized.

-The warm atmosphere, the decor, the unstacked dishes, the soft carpets.

-That's what he had missed, a heaven of peace.

-"They won't be the best cookies in the world, but they'll do."

-"Ah'm good at it." he said.

-"Pastry chef?"

-"Military."

-"Hm, that explains a lot. "They gave him a complicit look.

-"Like what?" Soap asked.

-"This horrible haircut."

Laughter erupted in the kitchen.

-"Ma haircut is incredible."

-"For a 6-year-old."

-"Ah look handsome with it."

-"Even without it."they said.

-"Good at flirtin'?"he asked.

-"With the right person, yes."

-Soap smiled.

-"Ye would be bonnie with a mohawk."

-"No thanks. But, well, I understand the muscles and the irregular movements now."

-"Aye, Ah don't choose my hours."

-Too bad, you'd think criminals can't be punctual, huh? "they joked.

-He smiled.

-"Exactly."

-Hands in the dough, Soap couldn't help but let his gaze drift over his neighbour's curves.

-He admitted that sometimes his door slammed a little louder in the hope of catching a glimpse of them, like a good luck charm before a mission.

-Curves he longed to explore, letting the eight long months fade from his memory to be replaced by love for them.

-"Ah should hae made more noise if it means havin' cookies."

-His neighbour smiled.

-"Maybe. I was worried about this silence, you know."

Soap felt touched by their concern.

-"Ah'm sorry."

-"Don't apologize, you didn't decide on that. It's just… maybe I could give you my number? If you ever have plants or stuff like that, I'll take care of them."

-"Okay." he acquiesced.

-He took the paper feverishly, keeping it as a precious treasure, and continued cooking.

-At the end of that day, returning home, Soap could finally close his eyes.

-The creeping feeling had come to an end.

-That longing, that emptiness, it was them, the sound of a life together.

-He brushed the paper, a smile on his lips.

-Getting up, he decided to drop a dumbbell loudly.

- A noise at his door rang out, and he smiled. Nothing was worth his neighbour.

-So slowly he opened the door, and dinner followed to apologize.

-Then another to repay.

-And slowly, they erased from his mind the eight long months that had haunted him.

G A Z

-After eight long months of absence, Gaz finally found a moment of respite in his humble accommodation on the base.

-The deafening noises of the base's incessant activity, the hurried faces, the soldiers' rushed departures, everything seemed to dissolve into a chaos filling his ears.

-Everything seemed to fade away as soon as he could cross the threshold of his room.

-Here, in this haven of tranquility, he could finally silence the external turmoil.

-His pulse slightly quickened as he reached for his phone, his fingers instinctively finding his favorite contact: them.

- He felt this visceral need to reassure them, to feel their presence through the voice that was so dear to him.

-In this suspended moment, he longed to hear nothing but their soothing breath, to lose himself in their tender words.

-His ears buzzed, every beep deafening his eardrums and…

-"Hello?"

-"Y/N," he murmured, relieved and tender.

-The echo of their voice provided him with a welcome comfort, a balm for his weary soul.

-"Kyle. Back among us?"

-"Yes, I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."

-"No, I'm on break. I have a shift tonight."

-A silence stretched.

-"Is everything alright?"

-Kyle hesitated before speaking.

-Is everything alright? The blood, the bruises, the cries, the deaths… Everything seemed to still be on his skin, vivid in his mind.

-"I don't know," he admitted.

-"You didn't break an arm, did you?"

-Kyle smiled at the memory.

-After a rough mission he had rushed to his flat ignoring the pain in his arm and the medics.

-Yet he ended up to E.R days later with a blue arm and broken bone.

-Y/n was one of the nurse who was in charge of him and his cast, they kept contact.

-"No, I don't know how I managed to cope without hearing from you."

-"Charming," they laughed at his attempt at flirting.

-"Maybe."

-"More seriously?"

-"Tired," he admitted.

-"I would tell you to sleep, but I imagine you don't want to."

-"I can't."

-Not when he knew the nightmares awaiting him.

-"…I finish at 1am, if ever. I'm not implying anything, I know your base is super far, but I know that company can help."

-"Hmm, I don't know, will there be food?"

-"My company isn't enough for you, Kyle?" they joked.

-"I fear not."

-"Damn," they exclaimed, laughing.

-Ah, there it was.

-A tender smile stretched across Gaz's lips.

- In this exchange, he found comfort, a precious connection.

-His body relaxed slightly.

-"I missed you," they confessed.

-"You too."

-"You know, I bought those awful biscuits you talked about so much, hoping you'd come eat them at my place."

-"I'll take it as a declaration at this rate."

-"Shut up, I know you'd never buy them because 'no time'."

-"I like speed."

-"Even in bed?"

-A mischievous smile formed on his lips.

-"That's for you to find out."

-"You always say that."

-"I mean it."

-"About?"

-"Us."

-"Kyle…"

-"I know, after eight months of absence, it might just be the longing speaking, but… the only thing I wanted was you. Coming back to you, holding you in my arms, making you laugh one last time. And… staying friends… it's worse."

-"Worse than eight months without me?" -"Yes."

-"You're horrible for doing this."

-"I know."

-"At a distance, over the phone. I can't… I can't guess anything."

-"I guess I'm a coward."

-"Shut up, I… I swear I'm going to hit you and then kiss you."

-"Kiss me?"

-"Of course, do you really think I answer all your calls at any time out of friendship?"

-"Y/N…"

-"Last time there was an eight-hour time difference."

-"You told me…"

-"That there were only two, yes, because… I didn't want you to worry. You're a stubborn idiot always thinking of others, so I wanted to be selfish for once that you are."

-"I am. I want you, Y/n."

-"Then come get me."

-Kyle smiled and hung up.

- In his car, stress, fear, adrenaline surged. But for once, the enemy wasn't to be fought.

-Once in front of the hospital, hours of driving later, he stood at the entrance and saw them come out.

-Their name spoken from their lips, and he embraced them.

-"Never again," they whispered.

-"I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

-"I swear I'll kick Price's ass if he does that again."

-"I'll help you."

-"Promise?"

-"Promise."

-And he kissed them.

-Suddenly the eight long months evaporated on Y/n's couch, his fingers sliding through their hair, and his lips on theirs.

-The silence returned and Kyle could finally breathe.

If you want more : my masterlist

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hi I don’t know the difference between imagine or hcs ; I was wondering can I hear your thoughts on yandere monkey king x reader who’s the white bone lady please ; love to hear your thoughts (sorry if my English isn’t good 💗)

My thoughts, uh?

My thoughts... well, my thoughts are...

Before being the Lady Bone Demon, Reader was a mere, small, iey kind of spirit, like a fairy. She wasn't anything big, just a small creature that lived in the cold, turned to water during the hotter seasons, and waited until the cold came back and snow gave her her true form.

My thought is that she once met a small monkey, an intelligent one, and they became friends. 

Every winter, he liked to pass it with her, playing and learning about the fun and the joy that even winter can bring. And he learned the pain that spring brings and the longing for her return in summer.

Years pass, and he changes. He became a dangerous demon, his name now Sun Wukong, and he had learned a new trick: how to make an ice spirit never wither.

My thoughts are that, at first, you found it quite nice to enjoy the hotter season, the flowers of spring, the fruits of the summer, and the fire-colored leaves of autumn, but as time passed, you wondered how long this thing would last... You miss the waters, your sisters, and your brothers... You would like to go back.

"Back?" He snarls, "Don't you like my gift?! Is this how you treat me?! YOUR KING?!"

But he wasn't your king, and you didn't like his way of acting.

And he didn't like your defiance, so he hurt you badly.

He cured you, using water and ice, but you remembered... and you started to wonder what was happening with him. Since when did he want to control you and keep you close to him? Since when have his eyes become dark? Since when did the small and friendly monkey become the demon that declared to love you like life itself?

You didn't want to give in; you were proud enough to not fall for threats and aggression. No matter any time he hurt you and rebuilt you, you didn't lose a single grain of hope to being free.

So, when the diamond ring came to capture him, you secretly asked for your father, the cold wind of the north, to guide it against him. Your father responded, and not only him.

When the celestials founded you, the ice fairy that the great Sage cherished as his own Queen, they found someone that was overjoyed by his fall and asked nothing but for your freedom!

But the damage was too deep now. He had fed you those damn pills and peaches; now not even the sacred fire could melt you... You felt helpless, near to giving up on your hope...

But the Mother of the West gave you another chance.

"There's a mountain, not far from the gate of the west," she spoke. "Go there and act in my name. Protect people, help them, and act as a guardian. Once your work is done, you'll find your immortality revoked."

History is written by the winners. Your name wasn't about death and bones; it was one about keeping company men in their last moment, helping them pass the threshold, and being there when the Black and White Impermanence came. You were there, guiding children in their home when they were lost, fending them from the dangers of the night. You were there to take away the tears from the face of the young lady.

You saved women that wanted to take away their lives; you were a saint.

Your name was Lady of White Reverance.

But he had to come back, did he? He had to meet your gaze when you kindly offered to help his master by bringing him food and water, remembering then all the years of torture, of imprisonment, and of seclusion by him. And he was fast to attack you, claiming you were a demon that wanted to eat his master. a lie, a dirty lie; he even tried to take you away again, bring you back to Mount Huaguo, promising to finish his journey and come back for you, to his wife. But you refused, and that angered him again.

Only this time, you were strong enough to fend him off.

In the story, he had killed you, but the truth was that you got away, and he is still alive, now searching for you.

[formulafics]

Hi, love your fics!! ❤️❤️ Could I request a charles x reader? One where she's also a driver (your choice which team) and she's from Poland and their flags just look like 🇵🇱🇲🇨 and it's like a "funny" coincidence to the fans or something, maybe it's a charles and y/n thing to always point out how similar their flags are

★ IF YOU CANT BEAT ‘EM, JOIN ‘EM | CL16

Scenario: time and time again, your flag gets mixed up with your boyfriends’, and vice versa. this time around, something a little more interesting than just a mixed up flag happens.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (mclaren driver)

A/N: i’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! thank you so much for your patience 🫶🏻 this is actually such a cute idea, i love it. i hope you enjoy the fic! <3 ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST CHARLES FIC ‼️WHO CHEERED?

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, f1, yn_ln, and 1,360,155 others

charles_leclerc good to be back on the podium…even with the flag mishap. i wouldn’t want it to be any flag but @/yn_ln’s.

view all 12,345 comments

yn_ln i could say the same for your flag. congrats on p2 baby you deserve it! 🥰

scuderiaferrari if you can’t beat them join them. right @/yn_ln ?

⤷ yn_ln 👀

⤷ rizzciardo hey so what does this mean lol

landonorris get a room

⤷ yn_ln bet 🤭

leclercnorrisrussel WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPION I SAID

lovelyleclerc yk its a good day when yn and charles are on the podium together

lovelyleclerc WAIT A MINUTE WTF DO YOU MEAN FERRARI

yn_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 864,562 others

yn_leclerc (accidentally) took his flag, joined his team, and now taking his name. 🤭❤️

thanks lando for taking the pictures 🫶🏻

view all 9,652 comments

charles_leclerc through sickness, health, and mixed flags 😂

⤷ yn_leclerc forever and always baby ❤️

landonorris thank god i don’t have to spend another year with you

⤷ yn_leclerc just bc we aren’t gonna be teammates doesn’t mean we aren’t friends 🤨 you’re not getting rid of me that easily mister. also i gave you photo credits i expect you to be nicer

pierregasly congratulations ❤️ love you guys

maxverstappen1 💙

georgerussel63 congrats guys 💙

carmenmundt so happy for you both! congratulations, mr and mrs. leclerc! ❤️

paularon_ @/arthur_leclerc can be the flower child at the wedding!

lovelyleclerc SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ARE YOU SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

ferraricharles BABE WAKE UP YN AND CHARLES ARE ENGAGED

stardustf1 serving parents more than ever with this one

yn_leclerc and scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, f1, paularon_, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 876,542 others

yn_leclerc a wise man once said “if you can’t beat them, join them” and join them i did. 🤭 can’t wait to see what the 2024 season brings!

view all 7,672 comments

charles_leclerc i love you ❤️ can’t wait

⤷ yn_leclerc i love you more

oscarpiastri thank you for the seat

⤷ yn_leclerc your welcome pls take care of lando

⤷ thumbsuplando CRYING I ALREADY MISS YN AND LANDO SO BADLY

scuderiaferrari happy to have you! 🥰

lovelyleclerc everytime i get the notif that you post, i go insane. i just wanted you to know that!

norrisnation i’m gonna miss you in mclaren but im so happy for you 😭🧡

ynsnumberone MOTHER

⤷ rizzciardo it truly isn’t a yn post if there isn’t someone in the comments calling her mother

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated! — dae <3

💌 | @renarots @jsjcue @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @treehouse-mouse @minkyungseokie @lokietro @spidersophie @arkhammaid @vellicora @stopeatread @motorsp0rt @leclercvsx @cixrosie @piasstrisblog @vroomvroomverstappen @harrysdimple05 @sadieurlady @fastcarsandshit @kortneej81 @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @elliegrey2803 @yagirlhayes

[at4zxx]

Queen of ❤️s (angst)

Teen!BridgetHearts x reader.

( older Bridget x older reader?)

Genre: fluff-ish to angst💥

warning: readers death, before Red time travels. (Red is a little girl in this plot) , I DIDNT PROOF READ IT.

It’s badly written because I only had 2 hours of sleep :3

Summary: Bridget having a dream about her life as a teen once more. Wanting one more night with the reader, until waking up..

it felt the same. It looked the same.. it was her, it was you.

if this was a dream, I don’t ever want it to end. I want you to stay, stay with me.

Hand in hand, both Y/N and Bridget went back to Bridget’s dorm. A big smile on Bridget’s face as she pulls Y/N into the bed, hugging her tightly.

“You were gone forever!” Bridget whines jokingly, burying her face into the side of your shoulder.

All you could do was smile, pulling her close.

“Pinks, I was only gone for 2 hours, you know I had tourney.”

“I understand that, but why did you leave so soon? You should’ve said goodbye.”

“I was in a rush! Coach wanted me on the field ASAP. But Hey, you have me now. Is that better??”

Bridget thinks, yeah. It was better than you not being back at all. She nods.

“Yeah, it’s better than you not being back at all.”

Y/N sighs, kissing her on the forehead.

“I love you my dear.”

…

“I love you too darling, you won’t ever leave me, right?”

bringing Bridget’s hands up to your lips, gently pressing them against her palm.

“I promise.”

————

The sunlight shun down on Bridget’s eyes throw the windows. It was another reminder.. that you weren’t here anymore.

you were dead.

Why couldn’t you just stay alive a little bit longer.

if only she knew how sick you were.. maybe, just maybe..

you would still be here.

The door opens, it was one of the guards.

“good morning your majesty- duties awaits.” They hesitate. Obviously they were scared of the Queen of Hearts.

Bridget gives a firm nod, standing up with her red robe wrapped around her.

“Very well, I’ll see to it after I get ready.”

The guard nods, walking out of the room and closing the door shut behind them.

It felt like a blink of an eye and she was already in the corridor of the castle. Little Red following her, staying as quiet as a mouse.

As Bridget walked out to the backyard garden. She walked to a more private areas. Covered in beautiful colourful flowers. Despite the entire castle not allowed to have anything but the colour red.

“Mama, what does that say?” Red asks, gently tugging on her gown.

Bridget looked down at Red, before looking towards where she was looking.

the tombstone.

‘Y/N/N’

‘loving friend, sister, aunt, niece, and lover. You will forever be missed.’

“.. her name was Y/N, she was very close to your mother.” Bridget responds, grabbing the picture they took of you during senior photos. It was the only photo she had of you after all..

“She’s pretty mama” red mumbles, looking over at the picture.

She nods in agreement.

“Yeah.”

“She is.. isn’t she.”

“You would’ve loved her my dear, I know she would’ve loved you.”

IM GOING BACK TO YELLOWJACKETS?? BRO WHAT THE HECK-⬇️⬇️ (courtney eaton is so AAA)

[foundtherightwords]

Fallen Empires - Chapter 9

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Prologue + Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The next morning, Daphne came back from her chores to find Romulus sitting at the table, all dressed up in his old cloak and belt, with his dagger in its sheath dangling from his belt. She looked at him askance, still stung from the previous night. It had started out so well—when she returned from the village, she could tell he'd been waiting for her, and she'd wanted to tease him a little, to see if he had truly missed her. Perhaps she'd gone too far. But then he had made her blood boil, and this time not in a good way. First, he'd had the audacity to order her about in the bedroom—though she didn't particularly object to the act he'd proposed, it was his tone that insulted her. And then, after she'd overlooked that first offense and stirred from her sleep to help him out of his nightmare, he'd kicked her out of the room. Her room! Ingrate fool! She could tolerate some male arrogance, but she had her limit.

"Going somewhere?" she asked coldly.

He avoided her eyes. "Yes. I think it's time I rejoin my legion." His voice was polite but flat.

Daphne's heart stumbled, as if his words had just grazed it like a knife. The day before, down in the village, she'd heard about a big battle going on in the Parthian city of Nisibis, not far from the border. Everybody had been talking about it, saying it would decide the war. She had sat with her mother and Mikkos, praying for Attikos and other men from the village, who were no doubt fighting in it at this very moment. Upon returning to the hut, it had been on the tip of her tongue to tell Romulus about the battle, but she'd stopped herself. She was afraid that if she'd told him, he would've left immediately to join his fellow soldiers. As angry as she was with him, she didn't want him to go. Not yet.

Had he heard something after all? But that was impossible. How could he have, stuck up here with no one for company except the goats? So why did he want to leave? Was it because of what had happened between them? Did he regret sleeping with her? Was he married after all and now regretting his infidelity? Or perhaps he simply didn't want to stay with a woman who had threatened to kill him. She hadn't really meant it, of course she hadn't. It was only because he'd made her so mad... Oh, why had she let her temper get the better of her?

She put the jug of fresh goat's milk down on the table and turned to the larder, bringing out bread and cheese and olive, moving slowly so she would have time to compose herself. "You wish to go to Edessa?" she said.

"Yes."

She didn't want to tell him that the army was no longer in Edessa. "But you're not—"

"I know I'm not well enough!" he snapped, reverting to his old irascible self. Then he took a breath, and continued in the same flat voice as before, like he was trying to distance himself from her. "You mentioned that there's a town a couple of days from here," he said, "where I can get passage to Edessa."

"You mean Adala?"

He nodded. "Adala, yes."

She finished setting out breakfast. "And when do you wish to leave?"

"As soon as I can. I'm well enough for a two days' walk, surely?"

"Yes." She found herself mimicking his tone and grimaced in annoyance.

He got to his feet. "Right. Prepare some food for me then." His old commanding voice was back, and she glared at him. He must have realized how he sounded, for he corrected himself, "I mean, if you could spare some food and point me in the right direction, I'll get out of your hair. I've imposed upon your hospitality for long enough." He'd never spoken to her so courteously, so coldly. She wished he would shout and whine and complain as he had before. It would be a hundred times preferable to this polite stranger.

But there was no point in clinging to him any longer. He was never going to stay. This was bound to happen sooner or later. It would be better if he left now, before she became too used to his presence.

She sighed, thinking of the long summer days ahead, when she would be alone again. Despite the heat, she would sit outside with Midas and the goats, just to feel the presence of some living things other than herself, or go into the garden and put her ears to the beehives, listening to their gentle buzzing, just to hear something other than her own thoughts rattling inside her head. She would miss him, miss this strange, infuriating man...

Then an idea occurred to her.

"Perhaps I should go with you," she said slowly. Her mind was telling her this was not a good idea. Better to cut off the wounded limb and make a clean break, than to draw out the agony. But her heart was saying otherwise. "I have to visit the apothecary in Adala anyway," she explained, "to trade for a few things and restock my shelves."

Romulus looked at her, considering the option. She thought she could see the conflict in her heart reflected in his face, as the desire to spend more time together waged war with the fear of a prolonged goodbye. "Very well," eventually he said, in that same stiffly polite tone. "I would welcome your company."

"Then give me some time to pack," she said, trying not to sound too excited. "And you don't want to travel under this sun. It's better if we leave in the evening. It will be cooler then, and you can stay hidden."

It was clear that he had not thought about the danger of being discovered. He nodded and took off his belt and his cloak.

For the rest of the day, Daphne busied herself going through the various jars and bottles and packets of herbs, taking stock of how much she had, what she could use to barter, what was running low. She had to admit that labeling the jars had been a big help. It helped, too, to have Romulus's assistance as he wrote down her inventory on the wax tablet. For a while, the easy companionship between them felt like the old days again, and Daphne managed not to think too much about the imminent departure. She also remembered to bring Amalthea and her kids to Ione, who was most eager to watch the animals while Daphne was away.

They descended the hill as a waxing moon rose over the rock cliffs. With Midas's bridle in her hand, Daphne led them around the village instead of through it. She knew that on a cool, moonlit night like this, the villagers would be out in droves, sitting on their doorsteps, the women weaving, the men fixing their tools, all sharing drinks and gossip, and this detour was the only way to avoid detection. Once out of the village, they followed the stream as it wound its way through the valley to meet the Balikh. The water was low and sluggish this time of year, but the soft murmur of the current was enough to mask the sound of their footsteps.

"You all right?" she asked Romulus, when they were deep in the valley. "Would you like to ride Midas? Or should we stop for a rest?" She had heard him wheezing behind her for a while, but didn't want to stop before they were far enough from the village.

"I'm fine" was all he said. She looked back at him. His face was gray in the pale light of the moon, his dark eyes were enormous, and he was breathing heavily.

"No, you're not fine," she said, putting Midas to a halt and moving some of the saddlebags of herbs aside. "Get on."

Romulus glanced at the donkey and made a face. "No."

Daphne sighed, exasperated. Such ridiculous creatures, men. "I'm sorry I don't have a war elephant for you," she said. "Get on. I'll not have you collapse on me again."

He looked at Midas once more, before apparently deciding that his comfort was worth more than his dignity, and climbed on the saddle. Daphne suppressed a triumphant grin as she took up the bridle and walked on.

They walked through the night, under the silver moon. After it set, they pushed on for a while longer, until the sky brightened into a pinkish gray and a strip of gold appeared on the eastern horizon. The sun rose rapidly, spreading light and heat across the valley. Eventually, when the heat became too much, Daphne drew them to a stop under a bank of willow trees by the stream and made camp. Romulus looked up and down the bank warily, but after she assured him that they would be perfectly safe, he sat down next to her, with his back against a willow. They ate some of the bread and cheese Daphne had brought along. Then, shielded from the hot sun by the sweeping willow branches above and cooled by the gentle flowing of the stream beside them, they slept.

The sun had dipped behind the hills again, but it was still light, by the time Daphne woke. Romulus was no longer lying near the willow tree across from her, and she bolted up, afraid that he might have slipped away while she slept. But no, he was still there, sitting a little further down the bank. He was trying to shave with his dagger and making a mess of it.

"Need a hand?" Daphne said.

He jumped. "Hades!" he cursed as the dagger clattered to the ground. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

"No, but you may cut your own throat if you try to shave with that meat cleaver." She pulled her own little knife from her belt and sharpened it with a stone from the riverbank, before handing it to him. "Here, try this."

He took the knife from her and tried again. One scrape, and he threw it to the ground as well. "I've never done this before," he said, sounding both frustrated and embarrassed. "There were always barbers..." He glanced at Daphne. "Can you do it?"

Daphne hesitated. "But I've never shaved anyone before," she said. "Well, I did, once. My husband. The morning he left to join the army." It had been the last time she saw him.

Romulus shrugged. "It's not hard. I'm sure you can do a better job than I."

"You trust me?"

She only meant to ask if he trusted her not to make a mess of his face, but a hesitant look came into his eyes, and Daphne remembered that she'd threatened to kill him just the night before. Of course he wouldn't trust her.

She handed him the knife. "It's best that you do it," she said.

The look in his eyes changed inscrutably as he looked from the knife to her and back again. Then, reaching out his hand, he pushed the knife back toward her and raised his chin expectantly.

Crouching down in front of Romulus, Daphne started to scrape the knife across his jaw. A small whimper escaped his throat. She jumped back, holding the knife aloft. "That hurt?"

"It's fine." He cleared his throat. "But usually the barber would put some kind of oil in my beard first, to soften it."

"Why didn't you say so?"

Daphne dug through her supplies and found a jar of almond oil, which she rubbed into his beard. The pulse just below his jaw beat wildly under her hand, and when she happened to lift her eyes to his face, the look he gave her made her own heart thump along with his. How she longed to kiss him there, on his jaw, to feel that pulse and his warm, smooth skin beneath her lips... But he would probably push her away again, and she was not willing to repeat that exercise in humiliation. She put the knife back to his beard. He was right. With the oil, the knife glided over the hair much more smoothly and easily.

"Is that better?" she asked. Romulus nodded once and sat still, as if afraid any movement would cause her hand to slip. "Relax," she said. "I won't nick you. I promise."

"I'd rather you promise not to gut me like a fish," he said.

She glared at him, but his tone was light, and something like a wry smile was lifting the corner of his mouth. She felt her cheeks grow hot. "Don't test me," she warned, trying to put on her sternest face.

His teasing smile grew, and for a moment he looked once more like the man who had taught her to read, the one who had helped her after her father's disastrous visit, the one who had held her hand when she told him about her husband. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said.

His breathing calmed after that, yet her own remained ragged as if she'd just made an uphill climb, and she couldn't help noticing the heat between them. She forced herself to concentrate. Scrape, scrape, scrape. The hair fell away under the blade, slowly. They were breathing the same air, their bodies feeling the same heat, separated only by two thin layers of linen. She wanted to hit him and then kiss him, and then hit him again, for making her feel this way. But she did nothing, only reminding herself that he would soon be gone. Scrape, scrape, scrape.

Once his jaw was clean, Daphne moved on to his mouth, trying not to notice the feel of his lips between her fingers. Then she leaned back to survey her handiwork.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"Very well."

In truth, her shaving was rough, and there were uneven patches here and there along his jaw where she hadn't gotten all the hair. But, freed from his scowl, and with his curls getting longer and falling over his forehead, the face that emerged from under the beard was sweeter, almost boyishly handsome. She cleaned the oil off with the end of her stole and flicked away the little hairs that stuck to his skin, her fingers lingering over his now-smooth cheeks. He tilted his head, pressing his face into her hand, his dark eyes gazing into hers. Daphne's heart jumped. She knew that look. He'd looked at her the same way the other night—had it only been two days ago?

It was on her lips to ask him to stay, to keep this touch, this fire between them just for a little while, just a little longer... Her thumb brushed across his mouth, and he jolted away as if her finger had been a poisoned arrow.

"We best get a move on," he said, getting to his feet.

The plea for him to stay died in her throat. With a sigh, she stood up as well and began packing their things.

They continued in silence, with only the moon as their constant companion. The next day, they left the valley and the stream behind as the path rose toward a plateau. The willows became shrubs, then the shrubs became tuffs of tired brown grass, before getting swallowed up altogether by the tired brown sand of the plateau. Adala lay on that plateau, a handful of mud-brick houses lining narrow, winding streets, all congregating around a small marketplace. Having neither pastures nor arable land, it made its living as a trading post, where merchant caravans stopped for a change of horses before heading to larger towns, and where farmers and shepherds from surrounding villages brought in their goods to barter and exchange. It was the one place Daphne had learned without her grandmother's guidance—the old woman had never left their village and had seen no need for it, but Daphne had understood early on that she could not make a living if she stayed in their village all her life. Besides, she liked the hustle and bustle of the town, though only in small doses.

They pushed on, not stopping to rest, and came into Adala in the early afternoon. Romulus had jumped off Midas's back as soon as the town came into view. Now he stalked next to her, his head low, the hood of his cloak pulled up to cover his face, and his hand gripping the dagger tightly.

"Stop worrying," Daphne said. "No harm will come to you here."

"You can't be sure of that," he mumbled, his eyes darting left and right. It wasn't a market day, so the town wasn't particularly busy, but that only made the two of them stand out more. Eyes were turning their way, with curiosity that would soon turn into suspicion, Daphne knew.

"If you're trying to appear suspicious and draw attention to yourself, then you're doing an excellent job," she said drily.

He straightened up and pushed the hood off, looking slightly abashed. After that, he walked more normally, though he still kept a hand on the hilt of the dagger.

They walked past the marketplace under the shadow of a temple of Zeus and turned into a side street. Unlike the rest of the sleepy town, it was crowded here, as the townspeople flocked to The Lynx's Head for their drinks, snacks, and daily gossip. Part tavern, part inn, part gambling den, it was the true center of Adala, much more than the marketplace and the temple ever were.

Daphne stopped a little further down the lane and nodded at the tavern. "There you are," she said. "Go inside and ask Eukleis at the bar if she knows of anyone going to Edessa. You'll get passage in no time."

Romulus glanced at the crowd gathering outside The Lynx's Head, looking uncertain, but said nothing. He still said nothing when Daphne handed him a little pack containing a change of clothes, a wineskin, some food, and a small vial of poppy juice, in case his wounds still bothered him.

"Well," she concluded. Her voice shook a little, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound cheerful. "I must hurry before the apothecary closes for the day. I guess this is goodbye."

Romulus opened his mouth, but no words came. He kept gazing at her, with a beseeching look in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. She waited. Ten, fifteen, twenty heartbeats passed. He still didn't say anything. His hand moved at his side, but he didn't reach out for her.

"May the gods watch over you on your journey," Daphne said. Then she pulled her stole over her head and led Midas away.

"Daphne?" Romulus called after her.

She spun back so quickly that she hated herself for it. "Yes?" she said, hope flickering painfully in her heart.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "And may the gods watch over you as well," he added, almost as an afterthought.

There was a pang in her chest that might have been heartache, or it might have been mere disappointment. She nodded at him and walked down the street without another look back.

Chapter 10

Taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92, @justnobodynothingmore, @barcelonaloverf1life, @myotakureprieve, @flawssy-227, @itsrainingbisexualfrogs, @deliciousfestsalad (if you want to be tagged or removed, let me know!)

[starlightsuffered]

My Goddess

A/N - does the "stop the fucking charade" scene get anyone else hot and bothered or just me?

Warnings - smut, pregnancy, cheating, sensitive nipples, climaxing from nipple stimulation, oral (female receiving), knife play kinda, angry Hal, breeding kink, cock warming, unprotected sex, desired voyeurism

"Bring her to me!" He screamed at his servants. Usually he was kind, he was respectful, but not now. He was so riled up, and only one thing could fix it. It was a well kept secret of the palace. King Hal had a wife, a Queen, but he was weak for you and only you. Nowhere else was he weak, but you made him this way.

You were just a wet nurse. Your nipples were used all over town to feed babies that mothers couldn't. Hal loved that, the sensitivity of your nipples. You were embarrassed, you felt weak for having such sensitive nipples, but your love adored it. He suckled on them day in and day out. He was obsessed with you and you were confused how you had drawn such a lucky card in life.

You'd met back in his wilder days, when the kingdom hadn't rested on his shoulders. You'd known he fucked around, but it was always you he came back to. He'd asked to marry you when he'd gone off to war, but you couldn't do it. You'd have so much to do, so much responsibility. Not to mention, the nation would despise you. If they reviled the once wayward King, what would they think of him picking a wet nurse to be his bride? Wet nurses were seen as little better than prostitutes in this kingdom, the only ones who appreciated them was the needy mothers they aided.

"Here she is your Grace," the Guard had roughly torn the baby you'd been feeding from your breast, giving it to the mother. You had been marched to the castle. They didn't normally retrieve you with such force. He must've been in a very bad mood.

King Hal had once been gentler, but the many betrayals he'd experienced had made him hard. He was never rough with you, but with others, he didn't pull back when he could have.

You were brought before the king. He was rushing towards you, hands eager and protective. He carried you off to his bedroom. You were wincing.

"Why do you make such a face my love," he demanded. "If they have hurt you, I will have there heads."

This was what you meant. Hal would have never beheaded guards before. He would have talked to them sternly, but not killed them. This is why you had been avoiding him lately, the secret you so badly wanted to tell him, was hard to keep in his actual presence.

"No, no, it is nothing," you said, not meeting his eyes.

Hal placed you on the bed in his decadent room. You always wondered how the Queen felt that you had spent more time in this room than she had. Although, there were many rumors of her escapades with French dignitaries. Hal did not mind, Hal only wanted you.

"You are hiding something from me, and you will tell me this instant," he snapped, pacing the floor. He knew you too well. Just one avoidance of his gaze, and he was reading you like a book.

"I do not wish to tell you," you mumbled.

"Why my love?" His voice was soft now. He was trying to look into your eyes. You bit your lip, tears welling.

"I've missed my cycle by three weeks," You admitted.

"You, what?" Hal seemed genuinely shocked.

"I'm pregnant Hal," you said, turning to him. A wild smile lit up his face. He was beaming.

"But my love! This is wonderful news, and it is surely mine?"

"You are the only man I've been with in years," you replied. He looked a bit pink at that. You knew you were not the only one he'd been with, but now, that problem was fixed. He wouldn't be obligated to try for an heir if one grew in your belly.

"This is amazing," he cheered.

"I'm not so sure it is," you said softly.

"Why ever not?" He asked.

"You have changed Hal," you whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"You are harder. I know it is not your fault, but it worries me. I worry you may be assassinated, or that you will start a new war. I know a King must be tough, but a father must be gentle."

He was silent for a long time after your speech.

"You are right y/n, if you choose to have this baby, I will endeavor every day to be the man you deserve, and the father my child deserves," he said, taking your hands.

"Oh, Hal, that is exactly what I wanted to hear," you sighed.

"You are also being moved into the castle. I am declaring you an official mistress of the King. You will be accompanyed by a servant, or me at all times. I want you treated no less than a Goddess."

"Hal," you hedged. "What about the Queen?"

"The Queen has seen this coming for a long time. I have long been drawing up papers for you to become my mistress."

"Hal, I want you to be kind about it," you instructed.

"I will be, but my first priority will always be you," he said gently.

"I love you," you told him, his heart melting words making it all the more clear he was your forever.

"Let me love you, my Goddess," he requested, and you nodded eagerly.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing your lips. You melted into the kiss. He pulled you on top of him. You straddled his waist, combing your hands lovingly through his hair. You let your teeth graze his bottom lip, earning a moan from him.

His hands were at the ties of your dress in an instant. He was undoing them, trying to get you undressed as quickly as possible. You remembered when you'd arrived here he'd been in a rage. Now he was using only gentle touches, loving touches. You were the song that soothed the savage beast. You loved how malleable he became for you and you alone.

"Hal," you moaned as he kissed your neck, tearing your bodice. He grabbed a defensive dagger from his bed side.

"I am going to cut that dress from your form, from now on you are either naked for me, or in the most expensive finery the castle can afford."

He came forward with the knife. You did not shy away. Hal was incapable of hurting you. He pulled your garment away from you skin, not wanting to cut you. You closed your eyes, waiting to be bare before him.

Soon he'd cut through all you wore, and you were completely naked before him. His eyes drank in your body. Every time he saw you unclothed, it was as if it were that first time all over again.

"My y/n," he purred. "Look at you."

"Hal, love me," you requested. He crawled over to you, a feral glint in his eyes.

"Though I will miss these being as tender as they are," he said, beginning to massage your breasts. You gasped at the feeling. "They are for only two people now, me, and the child you bear."

He flattened his tongue against your sensitive nipple. It was enough to make you scream. He suckled your nipple into his mouth. You loved watching him like this, attending to you. The image was enough to make you come. Once he had been content to do it for hours, loving how you continued to react the same way as time passed.

"Hal, oh Hal," you moaned as he continued to lick your nipples, tracing them with his tongue. The sensation drove you wild. Now he added hands as he lapped and kneaded you felt a cord inside you break, and your orgasm baptized you in bliss.

"That's my girl," Hal praised, as you moaned. "I barely have to touch you."

"You are perfect, my King," you told him.

"And you my darling, are enough to make your own King bow before you," Hal said as he got off the bed and onto his knees. Your legs hung off the bed, and you presented him with your glistening pussy.

"No wine, no matter how fine, has the taste of you my dear," he said as he prepared to devour you. He kitten licked at first, making you squirm, but then he changed. He was lapping at you, tongue blessing your heat as it moved. He sucked your clit into his mouth, then traced it. He had you bucking into his lips, hands tangled in his curls.

There had been times when he'd sat you on his throne, naked, and worshiped your body. Him still in full regalia. You could knock the crown from his head with your needy hands, and he would not reproach you. That was how much he adored you.

"I'm going to come," you told him. He growled his approval into your heat. The vibration pushed you over the edge. You called his name as he continued to lap you through your orgasm.

When his face showed, it was covered in your essence. You were breathing heavily as he licked his lips. He did not wipe his face, but got back on the bed to kiss you thoroughly. You tasted yourself on him, and you moaned into the kiss.

"I can't wait," he said. "I want to see you grow, to see the proof that you are full of me."

He was removing his every article of clothing. You watched, eagerly. His beautiful form was often hidden under so many layers of finery, that you couldn't even make out the shape. You liked him bare the best. His slender body and milk white skin. He was beautiful.

"Yes, Hal," you agreed, as he lined himself up with you. He pushed into you, letting out a deep groan.

"My Goddess," he crooned. "So full, been cummed in so many times. I'll be the envy of every man who knows that you are mine alone, forever."

He was snapping his hips quickly, needy for the feeling of you. He hated any position that hid your face from him. Your breasts bounced as he quickened.

"Everyone will know it was I who bred the finest cunt in the land. It was I that filled her to bursting," he whimpered, only you would every hear the King whimper

"Yes Hal, yes, and you will fill me again and again, all of my days," you agreed, whines leaving your mouth as he fucked deep into you.

"You'll be so swollen with me, and your breasts will be ever heavier with milk. The thought alone is enough to make me explode," he panted.

"Oh Hal, I could live the rest of my life with your cock never leaving my cunt. Imagine you, ruling the kingdom, riding to battle, ordering your men, all with your cock buried in me."

"You're going to make me cum my love," Hal moaned.

"Then do it," you begged. "Fill me again!"

He rutted into you several more times before he was shooting ropes of hot cum inside you. He reached down to toy with your clit as he filled you. The sensation threw you into your third orgasm of the night. You were screaming, arching as it seemed like an impossible amount of cum filled you.

"There you are my Goddess, rest now," Hal said, cock still inside you, but urging you to relax. The two of you fell asleep that way. Lying in your lovers arms didn't have to end anymore, you were his mistress, and the mother of his child.

[works-of-fanfiction]

Just a Lousy Racing Driver || Pierre Gasly x Reader

Summary: Pierre shows the reader just how little he cares about her mother’s opinions of him.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ unprotected sex, swearing, some badly translated French.

a/n: I have been writing this for weeks on and off because I’ve been strangely busy! Pierre is sort of an entitled rich boy in this, but we can forgive him. I’m not the best at writing smut but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

“My Mum hates you.”

“Good.” Pierre smirked, his hand wandering from your waist to your neck. Your back arched against the wall as you revelled beneath his touch, feeling his warm fingers lightly grip at your skin. He could feel your quickening pulse under his thumb which only encouraged him further. “What else did she say?”

His grip tightened on your neck as his spare hand pushed your hip harder against the wall. You gasped, his fingertips skimming your ear. “What did she say?” He repeated, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered closed momentarily as you struggled to gather your thoughts.

“That you’re a lousy racing driver – “

“And?” He leaned into you, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin just below your jaw.

“You don’t deserve the money you make.”

His laughter vibrated against you, making you squirm and clutch tighter onto his shirt. His mouth latched back onto your neck, kissing and sucking to leave a flurry of little red marks.

“The money I use to take care of her daughter?”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he pushed his knee between yours to separate your legs. You resisted the urge to jump up and wrap them around him, as you chose to savour every second he spent pressed against you, his hands and mouth exploring your body.

If any other man said that to you, you’d probably push him away and give him an earful for being obnoxious, but the terms were different with Pierre. Since your very first date, he’d completely spoiled you, showering you with gifts and surprising you with romantic gestures. He always made sure you had exactly what you wanted, as well as needed, and never let his girl miss out on anything. You weren’t exactly materialistic, but he insisted on pampering you and treating you to anything you desired, so how could you refuse?

Pierre’s pursuit of you wasn’t an easy one. He tried for months to get you to agree to a date, but you were stubborn to say the least. You’d heard of his reputation, and you had to be sure you’d be more than just another escapade before you finally said yes. He tried to charm you with the idea of lavish dates and expensive vacations, but you assured him you couldn’t be bought. You played hard to get which drove him crazy and only made him want you ten times more.

The truth is, Pierre was trouble; trouble you weren’t sure you could handle at first. You had the type of friends and family who’d always guessed your type from a mile away, but Pierre didn’t fit into the norm. He was a cheeky, charismatic F1 driver whose face was all over the media every other weekend. He was the kind of guy who only taught you the bad words in his language, so he could whisper them in your ear before each race and leave your mind reeling for Lord knows how many laps. As your mother had put it, he was bad news.

Pierre’s jeans rubbed against your thigh, the friction burning your skin and making your knees feel as if they could cave in. He released his grip on your neck, only to bury that hand in your hair and tug at the roots. “I suppose, for the sake of your reputation with your family, we shouldn’t be together.” He purred against your cheek, his stubble scratching you and hot breath fanning your ear.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t.” You spoke, finding the confidence to bring your hand up to his hair, pulling his head back so he’d face you. “But, how could you possibly risk losing me?” You leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his. He tried to steal a kiss but you moved back too fast, smiling at him.

“You are such a fucking tease.” Pierre groaned, enjoying the feeling of your fingernails against his scalp. He’d grown accustomed to having your hands in his hair, whether it was during cosy nights on the couch in front of the fire, or humid nights in hotels around the world with his face buried between your thighs. You certainly couldn’t deny your love of the latter.

Pierre overpowered you once again, grabbing the hand from his hair and pinning it above your head. He held it there with his left hand, gripping your wrist and pressing it against the wall. You wriggled beneath him, mostly on purpose to see how he’d react. You liked it when he was rough with you, restraining you and touching you wherever he pleased. Every piece of you belonged to him and you loved being able to satisfy his every need. He responded just how you liked, gripping harder and pushing himself as close to you as possible. You smiled, earning a knowing look from the Frenchman. “What do you want?” He asked, his free hand cupping your cheek softly, a stark contrast to his fingertips digging into your wrist above your head.

“J'ai envie de toi.” I want you. You whispered as he lifted your chin with his thumb, his gaze meeting yours.

“Hm? You have to speak louder, mon amour.”

Pierre liked to tease and make you beg, and you both loved and hated him for it. All you wanted was to throw yourself forward and kiss him, but his firm grip kept you from moving. Even so much as a twitch made him hold on tighter and raise a brow at you as if to question why you were challenging him. He was often in control, but was always focused on your pleasure before his own. The two of you had once spent an entire morning in bed, Pierre giving you a string of orgasms with his mouth and fingers until you physically couldn’t take it anymore. He’d carried you to the bathtub and washed you afterwards, your body feeling limp and admittedly rather sore. He took care of you like you were the most fragile thing on this Earth, and held you as you drifted back to sleep in his arms, still wrapped in your towel.

“J'ai vraiment envie de toi.” I want you so bad. You spoke up, Pierre’s lips hovering over yours. A smirk spread across his face, as he reached down with both hands to grab your hips.

“That’s better.” He turned you around, pressing you against the wall. Your cheek was cold against the wallpaper, but you barely noticed as Pierre’s hands hiked up your dress, leaving it bunched around your waist. “Shall I take my time with you? Or are you ready for me now?” He slipped his right hand between your thighs, two fingers immediately finding your clit through your underwear. Your body jolted forward and you tried to support yourself with your hands on the wall. Pierre let out a chuckle behind you, his left hand smoothing out your hair. “Do you want me, baby?”

“How many times are you going to make me say it?” You whined, desperate for him to touch you more and not just through your clothes. For a moment he considered teasing you a little longer, but he himself could not deal with the anticipation. Soon his jeans were around his ankles, and he palmed at his hard, aching cock through his boxers, his other hand clumsily tugging at your underwear. You reached down to help, but he grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away.

“Leave them on.” He demanded, looking down at the thin baby blue lace he’d grown to love. You couldn’t remember exactly why they had become his favourites, but you took immense pleasure in wearing them beneath skirts and giving him a sneak peek in places you shouldn’t. You knew exactly how tonight was going to end when you crossed your legs with exaggeration at dinner, parting them just enough so he could catch a glimpse of the blue he loved so much. Pierre had to resist every urge to clear the table right there and bend you over it. He’d enjoyed the mental image of your body pressed against the wooden tabletop, your hair splayed out and sticking to your cheeks as he pounded into you, making the table legs shake as well as yours. He only wished the hotel room had a table just like it so he could act out his fantasy.

Pierre leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Leave them on whilst I fuck you.” He whispered, pushing them to the side so he could get a better look at you. Your skin was flushed and slick with arousal, the sight making his cock twitch impatiently. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He said in awe, his middle finger teasing your wet cunt. His touch was needy, but still gentle. Your moans bounced off of the wall, echoing around the room and bringing music to Pierre’s ears. He loved the sound of you, whimpering and moaning for him to touch you, to claim you, to fuck you so hard you saw stars.

Pushing his underwear down, you felt his cock spring free and press against your ass. You whimpered, grinding your hips backwards to get more friction and to give your boyfriend a bit of a show. He looked down, his breath caught in his throat as he watched your hips draw circles against him. He loved that you weren’t shy, and you enjoyed this just as much as he did.

“This is what you want, hm?” He asked, wrapping his hand around his cock and pressing against you harder. You nodded, arching your back forward to encourage him.

“Don’t make me wait any longer.” You purred, reaching behind and ghosting your fingers over his shaft. Pierre’s eyes fluttered closed, the soft touch sending a cold rush throughout his entire body. He did as you asked, grabbing both your hands and pushing them firmly against the wall so he could get you into the perfect position. An excitable giggle escaped you, and he smiled as he dug his fingers into your hips and teased your eager pussy with the head of his cock.

He couldn’t wait a moment longer as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, his size stretching you out and filling you up. Your hands slipped down the wall, but he was quick to reach forward and grab you. Pierre linked his fingers with yours, carefully thrusting into you as you got used to the feeling. You closed your eyes and hummed in pleasure, the two of you making the same sound in unison. “You feel incredible.” He whispered, kissing your hair. You loved the mixture of rough versus gentle Pierre. It was no secret that the man knew how to fuck and have you screaming his name, but he also knew how to caress you, talk you through it, and make sure you were comfortable throughout. His soft kisses and careful words made your heart sing, and you swore you couldn’t love him more if you tried, yet you were proven wrong every day.

He kissed you again, a moan disappearing into your hair as he bottomed out inside of you. You gasped, feeling his hot skin against your ass before he drew back to then push straight back into you again. His hands latched back onto your hips, pulling you onto his cock as his movements grew faster. He looked down to watch, to see you wrapped around him so tightly, leaving his cock wet and glistening. You didn’t even have to see him to know he was enjoying the view, his fingertips digging harder into your skin as he grunted with every buck of his hips.

Pressing your hands firmly against the wall, you drove yourself up to stand straighter, reaching back to wrap your arm around his neck. His mouth immediately connected with the skin behind your ear, gentle kisses contrasting with the passionate, deep thrusts that had your heart racing and sweat pooling between your thighs. You gripped onto the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly to encourage him. “Are you trying to be rough with me, baby?” He teased, his tone mocking yet in the sexiest way. “Because I can be rough if you want me to.”

Pulling away, you turned around to face him. Your faces were both flushed with desire for one another, and Pierre’s white shirt was slick with sweat. You started working on the buttons, your fingers trembling as you were well aware of him gazing down at you. He watched your hands, those dainty manicured fingers undressing him like they had hundreds of times before. He’d never get tired of surrendering to you and your touch, feeling your fingertips brush against his chest as you made your way down button by button. Since the very first time you’d offered to unbutton his shirt, he’d come to prefer it. To him, there was nothing sexier than watching you take your time with him, exposing as much of him as you wanted and studying his body with those pretty eyes of yours. He loved belonging to you, just as much as you loved belonging to him.

Finishing with the last button, you grabbed both sides of the shirt and pulled Pierre closer, standing on your tiptoes to reach his face. “Show me what you can do.” You whispered, earning a groan from your partner as he pulled off his shirt and guided the two of you towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you unzipped your dress and left it on the ground, and Pierre shook off the pants that were still wrapped around his ankles.

The backs of your legs hit the bed frame and you tumbled back, head landing on the mattress. Pierre grabbed your legs, hoisting them onto the bed in front of him, finally slipping the blue lace off of you. The sight of you with your legs spread and gaze fixed upon him drove him crazy, and he found it almost impossible to decide what to do with you first. Climbing onto the bed, he wasted no time plunging inside of you once more, making you gasp and your body twinge at the delicious pain of your pussy stretching around him. You wrapped your legs around him, using your feet to pull him closer and feel more of him. Pierre moaned, gripping your ankles and placing them on his shoulders.

He gave you a look as if to ask for permission and you nodded quickly, linking your ankles behind his head. He rolled his hips forward, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You tried to stay focused on his face, but you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your eyes shut as his thrusts quickened. Each of your staggered breaths overlapped one another as Pierre leaned down to connect his lips with yours. You opened your mouth for him, his tongue hot and desperate against yours as the sounds of your skin slapping together grew louder. With both hands on either side of your head, Pierre hovered over you, his thrusts slowing but growing more aggressive, the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you every time. Your hands roamed his body as well as your own, every slither of skin scorching hot to the touch. He watched as your right hand edged towards the bottom of your stomach, fingertips toying with the idea of exploring further.

Lifting your hand to his mouth, he sucked on your middle and forefinger, running his tongue along the front of them. He released them with a quiet popping sound, and you admired how his saliva moistened your fingers. “Touch yourself, baby.” He coaxed, his hands returning to their former position. You followed his order as he dropped your legs back down to his sides so you could spread them more. You slipped your fingers between your folds, your body twitching at the first touch of your clit. You were sensitive, swollen, desperate for friction. Drawing circles, you moaned loudly as Pierre attempted to match your rhythm.

You threw your head back, eyes gazing at the ceiling as he continued to pound into you, his lower stomach clashing with the back of your hand. “That’s it, Y/N. Keep going.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your knee. You couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt, but he already knew. He could tell by the way your cunt clenched around him. It was almost like he could feel your pulse beating against his cock.

“Pierre, I - “ You stammered, forcing your head forward to look at him. He could see it in your eyes, how close you were. Your fingers moved quicker as his thrusts grew shallow, while remaining the same speed.

“Keep those eyes on me. I want to see you when you come.”

You used to feel nervous having Pierre staring down at you as you touched yourself. Something about it made you feel more exposed than anything else, and you’d often close your eyes or look down at your own hand to distract yourself. But that didn’t bother you now. You fixed your gaze on him, rarely blinking as you rubbed your clit quicker, applying more pressure with your fingertips, growing closer and closer. His name exploded from your mouth as you came, legs shaking and toes driving into the sheets below. Once your hand was out of the way, Pierre leaned down, his chest pressing against yours as he kissed every inch of your face and neck. With one hand cupping your face, and the other gripping your hip, he buried himself inside you and groaned as he came, his entire body stiffening then collapsing on top of you.

He pulled out and moved to the side so you could go clean up if you wanted, but you stayed put. A warmth dripped out of you and down your inner thigh, and you smiled at the feeling. Silently, with nothing but the sounds of your breathing in the room, you took Pierre’s hand and pressed it between your legs, letting him feel his own cum spill out of you. He made a sound that confirmed his agreement, that he thought it was just as hot as you did. The two of you laid there as you caught your breath, before turning to face each other. His face was flushed and pupils dilated, and you were pretty sure you probably looked the same.

“Je t’aime. No matter what.” Pierre whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too. No matter what.”

“Even if your Mum hates me?” He raised his brows, making you giggle.

“Oh especially if my Mum hates you.”

[orchidsangel]

I BET ON LOSING (CHILI) DOGS [JASON TODD]

notes/cw - fluff, suggestive, wrote this bc jason canonically likes chili dogs, also mitski mother i am so sorry this is not at all what you had in mind when you wrote 'i bet on losing dogs', (pacing might be shit idk sorry guys, working on it i swear)

“I’m not eating it.” You say, as your boyfriend reaches over the console, and hands you the paper bag containing your lunch before sliding into the driver's seat of the car and closing the door behind him. 

“Could you just not be stubborn for a second? Like seriously, it’s a chili dog.” 

He takes the bag out of your hand, and removes its contents, placing them carefully on the dashboard and discarding the bag.

The inside of the vehicle now smells like fast food, and you grab a couple of fries, stuffing them into your mouth before continuing on with your justification.

“I’m not being stubborn. I’m setting a boundary!” You exclaim, reaching for more and dipping them in your milkshake. “And besides, I plan on getting full off of these fries.” you say, holding up another couple waving them around before eating them.

You reach for another handful when he grabs the container and moves them over to his side of the car, “can’t get full if there's nothing to eat.”

“Jason…if you don’t-” 

You make a move to grab them, but he just places them further on his side of the dash, “A chili dog babe. A chili dog.” 

“I hate them.” You huff out in frustration, giving up on the fries and leaning back on the headrest, letting out a long groan.

“You’ve never had one.”

“No, but I hate chili and hot dogs so if one plus one equals two…” You grumble, “then it would make absolutely zero sense for me to even try it.”

“Would you just- one bite. Please?” He’s begging at this point, and the look on his face shows just how badly he wants it. “I bet you’ll love it.”

And the little lilt in his voice when he says that breaks down any “boundary” you might’ve had. 

Here’s your big bad crime lord boyfriend practically on his knees over this, pleading for you to just take one bite, and you’re supposed to say no?

“Fine.” 

A grin spreads on his face and he hands you one of the chili dogs he’s holding before grabbing a few napkins and distributing them between the two of you. 

“And if I don’t?” you say, examining the mess of meat, chili, and cheese.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t love it.”

“Then I’ll make it up to you.” He says before taking a bite.

“Make it up how?” 

“If I tell you, you’re gonna lie and say you don’t like it.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

“Would you just eat it already?” 

You pick up the chili dog and bring it to your mouth.

“Careful, it’s pretty big.” Jason says from beside you.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had a lot of experience putting big things in my mouth.” You say before biting down.

“Subtle.”

It’s an explosive mix of savory meat and spices, with hints of tangy sweetness. Not at all what you expected and not nearly as bad as you thought. The cheese and the onions on top compliment the flavors and when you’re done chewing you take another bite. 

“Good huh?”

You turn your head towards Jason who’s looking at you with smugness you’ve only ever seen him give Roy on your bi-weekly game nights.

You were enjoying the chili dog, and he knew it. 

Still, you couldn’t let him have that kind of satisfaction. “No, not really.”

“Uh huh.” He says reaching over the console and bringing his thumb to the corner of your mouth, wiping away some sauce that you must’ve missed when you were licking your lips.

You take another bite, and he gives you a look. “What? It’s not like I’m gonna waste it.” You scoff.

“Right.” He says before returning to his own.

And for a few minutes the two of you sit in a comfortable silence, chomping away at your respective meals and occasionally stealing fries from the other.

When you’re done, he takes the empty cardboard container and crumpled napkins from your lap, tossing them into the bag previously thrown to the backseat. 

“So, since I lost the bet…”

You hum happily at his admittance of defeat. 

“...I guess I have to make it up to you now.” he says, leaning over the center of the car.

“Glad you know.”

He closes the space between you and nuzzles his face into your neck. Feeling a warm tingle in your body, you close your eyes and crane your head upwards, allowing him more space as the nuzzling turns into soft open-mouthed kisses.

He nibbles the tender skin as he moves up and towards your ear, “Do you want me to run inside and grab another dog for you?” He whispers between bites, and the question catches you off guard.

“What, why?” You say, confusion lacing your words. 

He draws back a little, a familiar heat radiating off of him, “For later tonight, when I’m done making it up to you.”

[crusty-chronicles]

Just Friends

An: Dropping this one before I watch the first episode of the live action today!!!!! Hope y'all enjoy.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" You chastised the red headed demon as you plucked another vine from his arm. Making sure to go over the injury with alcohol before wrapping it.

"Is that so?"

You met his amused expression with a glare. How this man could be so unfazed by a literal plant growing out of him, you'd never know. How he still found the energy to be cheeky was a mystery as well.

Although you knew it wasn't entirely his fault he was this injured. That damn tournament committee was partial to blame. Sabotaging Urameshi and his friends for no other reason than them being human. Betting money was another factor. Still, if Kurama hadn't been so cocky with the first demon, he wouldn't have been through hell after.

"Absolutely. You should've never fought twice in a row. Now look at you." You gestured towards the many open wounds on his chest.

"You're covered in blood. You're so damn lucky I'm studying to be a doctor." You dabbed more alcohol than you should've on a cotton ball before cleaning the scratches on his face.

A feeling of smugness when he let out a slight hiss.

"It hurts? Good. Maybe next time you'll learn to be more careful."

It was quite the sight to see. Kurama sitting obediently while you tended to his wounds. Letting you scold him without much complaint or push back. Kurama, a demon who'd lived hundreds of years with unfathomable knowledge, allowed you to call him stupid.

The most independent and arguably the most reserved, getting chewed out by a mere human.

It was funny, too. How he seemed to subtly lean into your touch. Closing his eyes while you wiped his face and releasing a content sigh when you finished. As if he were being pampered.

"You know I got injured pretty badly too. Maybe you should come clean my injuries." Yusuke called out. Though it was mostly meant to tease the fox demon.

You turned to face him at the same time Kurama's gaze hardened. A warning look directed at the spirit detective. But he could tell it wasn't really needed as you dismissed his offer.

"What am I the team doctor? I can't do all that 'magic power' stuff to heal what you've got going on." You gestured to the various brusing littered across Yusuke's body.

"You're best bet is Yukina."

"But you've got a delicate touch."

At his flirty tone you shot up from the bed and proceeded to chase him.

"I'll show you delicate!"

Kurama watched you go with a disappointed look. Missing your warmth besides him. Although he wasn't too happy with you being here, he couldn't deny being glad to have your familiar presence near him.

He had wanted to keep you far away from this. From his past that unfortunately intertwined with his present. Trying his best not to expose you to what he really was. A small part of him was still angry at Botan for bringing you here. But then again, she'd brought a prominent figure in each of his friends' lives as well. So he wasn't the only one dealing with this. He'd rather it be you than his mother wondering where he was.

Still, you were human. And a troublesome one at that. It was surprising you hadn't gotten in a brawl with a demon yet. Especially ones that were openly cheering for his demise.

You'd always been a bit protective of him. Having met as children when you defended him from being bullied for his fiery hair and oddly green eyes. Yelling and biting at the other kids until they left. Only to turn around and tell him he was gonna be your best friend from now on.

Something he thought was odd at the time. A human telling him what to do? Then again, he wasn't all that different from you in his new body. And he needed to be able to keep up appearances until he fully regained his powers. So he accepted and let you drag him where you pleased. He let you ramble about everything and nothing at the same time. He let you comfort him when his mother fell ill.

He grew to love having you in his life. Your lectures about how he shouldn't let others taunt him, even if he was fully capable of protecting himself. Though of course you didn't know that. He admired your ambition to enter the medical field so you could help the people who needed it. He looked forward to seeing your soft side that you'd only show to him after a long day.

You'd made him feel human.

Which is why he tried so hard to hide everything about his previous life from you. If you found out you'd most likely be scared or put in even more danger.

And he just couldn't risk losing you either way.

He tried cutting ties with you once, but you were a stubborn one. After what happened with Maya, he thought it was best you kept out of his life. Going as far as avoiding you. To which you responded by confronting him.

"If you don't want to be friends anymore, just tell me. Give me a straight answer instead of acting like a coward."

He was close to telling you he didn't want you around anymore, but the way you looked at him, with so much hurt and betrayal...He just couldn't find it in himself to let you go. Instead he asked you why. Why you didn't find him strange like the rest of your classmates. Why you spent so much time with him. Why it bothered you so much that he was ignoring you.

"Is that really what's bothering you? The answer should be obvious to a brainiac like you. You're important to me, Shuichi."

He realized then that you were important to him, too.

So he allowed himself to keep you around. He deserved that much for everything he's been through. Just so long as you were a part of his human life and not his demon one.

But fate had a funny way of playing things out. He should've known he couldn't keep this part of his life a secret from you forever. He just didn't expect it so suddenly.

Hearing your voice above the others shouting at him from the stands. He thought he might've been imagining it at first, but then he caught a glimpse of you from over the other demon's shoulder. The one that had threatened his mother's life with a push of a button.

He could see that you were nervous. Frustrated would have been a better word. As if you were mad he was letting himself get hurt.

You'd called him an idiot then too, after he won. Jumping down from the stadium and rushing over. Unfazed by the bloodthirsty creatures around you.

"You're such a dumbass. Making a big show out of nothing and letting that guy cut up your face. Let me see how bad it is." You scolded as you grabbed his chin and moved his head around. Inspecting the fresh slashes on his cheek.

"You're here?" He asked, still processing the fact that you were right in front of him. That somehow you managed to find your way back to him.

"Yes??? I don't think he hit you hard enough to have a concussion."

Kurama had to step away from you. All of a sudden overwhelmed because there was no way you were inspecting his injury right now. There was no way you were still treating him like nothing happened. Like he didn't just kill someone right in front of you.

"Why?" It was the only thing he could think to ask. Rendered speechless for the first time in forever.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here? How much do you know?"

How much did that troublesome reaper tell you?

"I'm here because my stupid best friend decided to get himself into trouble without telling me. Did you really think I wouldn't worry about you being gone for weeks? That I wouldn't get suspicious?" You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe the blood off his face.

"I didn't want you involved." Came his answer. He still didn't know how much you knew. If now was the time to be completely transparent.

"Then you shouldn't have agreed to be my friend. To be honest, I'm a little hurt you didn't even bother to tell me. Let me guess, you thought I would freak out if you told me you were a demon?"

Ah, so you knew everything. Which meant so did the rest of the girls with you. He wanted to be upset at Botan's lack of ability to keep secrets, but he couldn't have been any more relieved.

"You know me almost as good as myself. Though it's surprising you're taking this so well." He allowed himself to relax in your presence. To let you continue inspecting his minor injuries.

"You really think I would care after all we've been through? For someone who's supposedly hundreds of years old, you sure are an idiot Shuichi."

"Shuichi..." He didn't know why his name sounded so foreign coming from you. Maybe a part of him expected you to call him 'Kurama' now that you knew the truth. Or perhaps he just wasn't used to hearing it when he wasn't trying to keep up appearances.

"Yeah? Do you want me to use your tough guy demon name instead? Don't wanna be embarrassed in front of your friends?" Your tone was teasing. And while he would have loved to hear his true name come from your lips, he couldn't deny liking the idea of only you having the privilege to call him Shuichi.

"No. I like it when you use my human name instead. Whatever feels natural for you."

"Alright, but you better promise not to keep any more secrets from me."

He was still cautious with you around, but it was more for your safety than anything. Though he should've been more careful with himself, too. It'd only be more stressful to you the worse he got injured. Still he couldn't promise you that he'd come out completely unscathed.

"You let that human walk all over you like the detective with his woman."

The sound of Hiei's voice brought him back to the present. Hearing the amusement that came with it at Kurama's show of obedience with you. The way he let you get after him for being careless.

"True they have a rather loud mouth, but it comes from a good place. I don't mind all that much, not when they've gone out of their way to mend my injuries. Or would you rather I go to Yukina instead?" A small jest that was made to get the three eyed demon off his back.

But Hiei knew what he was doing and wouldn't be taking the bait this time. Not when he knew he had the upper hand in this conversation.

"You'd give me the opportunity to steal your precious mate while you were distracted?" And judging by Kurama's small glare, he was right.

"... We're just friends." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. And in a sense he was. He'd never really thought of you in that light. At least, not until recently.

"Hmm." A unimpressed noise before you stumbled in.

Smiling triumphantly after having just tousled with Yusuke and an unfortunate Kuwabara who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The grin wiped off your face seeing Kurama up and about.

"Hey! Did I say you could get up and walk?!? You've lost way too much blood to be moving around! Get your ass back to bed right now!"

"I heal at a much faster rate, remember. I should be just fine." He tried to diffuse, but you weren't having it.

"You're not getting out of this one fox boy. Go lie down or so help me Shuichi, I'll knock you out myself!"

Again you'd used his human name. Who you knew him as. And despite your crude words, he could feel his heart skip a few beats.

Friends made each other's hearts beat a little faster, right?

They sometimes shared kisses with each other during a moment of celebration.

And sometimes, maybe sometimes they thought about what life would be like to wake up next to the other every morning.

"Stay with me and I won't move a muscle."

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Twelve

...well. i'm back. sorry for the long wait between chapters, i really didn't think there would be such a long break, but burnout + the holidays kicked my ass, so. y'know. but we're getting back on track! this is a shorter, more transitional chapter, but i'm hoping you guys can enjoy this nonetheless 💜

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~4.3k | cw: gn reader, minor inner turmoil for reader, some harassment towards the end, kento's dad coming to the rescue

Your new life wanted you awake too early for your liking. Despite the fact that there was already sunlight shining through your window when you woke up, signaling that it was later than you usually slept, you felt like you could sleep for hours more and still be tired when you woke up. Just as you were beginning to consider the merits of rolling over and going back to sleep, your stomach made an almost horrifying growling noise. 

Food first, then. 

From her spot beside you on the bed, Takara grumbled softly, lifting her head and blinking at you, as if asking what you were doing and why you had woken her up. You offered her a small, apologetic smile and stroked the top of her head lightly with a finger.

“Sorry,” you said quietly. “We slept in a lot already, and we both need to eat. Let’s see if mom and dad saved us any breakfast.” You sat up, scooped her up carefully, then scooted your way off the bed, trying your best not to jostle her too badly. Despite your best efforts, she grumbled at you again, and once you were on your feet, she crawled onto your shoulder, draping herself around your neck with a huff, bumping your ear with her nose in the process.

Her actions made you smile, and once she was settled, you opened your bedroom door and stepped out. Your parents were sitting in the main room, in front of the fireplace, and when you stepped out of your room, all eyes were on you: your parents, who both smiled at you; Spark, who lifted his head from your mother’s lap; and Sparrow, who hopped gracefully off the mantle and made her way over to you, clearly the most curious about the new dragon in the house.

“Good morning,” your father greeted softly. “We decided to let you sleep in, since you don’t have lessons today.”

“Thank you,” you said, though your words were interrupted by a yawn as you made your way over to join them. They easily made space for you between them, where you settled with ease, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “I’m still tired, though.”

“I’m sure you are,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. Before anyone could say anything else, your stomach decided to repeat its absolutely inhuman noise from earlier. 

“I’ll make you some breakfast,” your father said with a smile, ruffling your hair playfully. “Stay here with your mother, I’ll bring you your food when it’s done.” 

You nodded, thanking him again as he walked to the kitchen to make you something to eat. Assuming that his dragon would follow him out of the room as she usually did, you were surprised to feel Sparrow’s feet on your leg as she tried to get closer to Takara. Your hatchling wasn’t very fond of her space being invaded, apparently, and she chittered at her in warning. When Sparrow didn’t seem to heed the warning, still trying to get as close as possible, Takara snapped at her. She didn’t make contact or draw blood, but it was enough to have your father’s dragon huffing and trotting off to the kitchen as you called a small apology after her.

Spark – presumably just as curious about Takara as Sparrow was, but having the good sense not to bother the hatchling – leaned a bit closer to you and sniffed the air, then rested his head back in your mother’s lap. You smiled at him, reaching over and stroking his nose lightly for a moment. It still felt a bit surreal to be in your own home, rather than still being at the gojo estate like you had been for the past week, but it was nice; you’d missed your bed, your parents, and their dragons more than you would’ve been able to imagine just a few weeks ago, but you knew now you’d never take them for granted again.

“Did you sleep well?” your mother asked, reaching over and righting a few wayward strands of hair. 

“Yes,” you answered, covering your mouth as you yawned yet again. “Yesterday was exhausting. I feel like I could go back to bed right now and sleep all day.”

She gave a small chuckle at your words. “Well, the good thing is that school hasn’t started again yet, so you still have some time to rest, if you really do want to spend the day catching up on sleep.”

“Speaking of school,” your father chimed in, coming back into the room with a plate of eggs and warm buttered bread for you, Sparrow perched on his shoulder. “Have you decided what you want to do about your academic studies going forward?”

“What do you mean?” You accepted the plate and chopsticks he offered you, your features pinched with confusion; you were still only half awake, and you couldn’t quite puzzle out what he was referring to.

“You asked Gojo-sama for time to decide whether you wanted to start attending academic lessons with Satoru-kun and Suguru-kun, remember?” your mother reminded you.

“Oh,” you murmured. “Yeah. I remember now.” For a few moments, you said nothing, thinking over your options as you ate the breakfast your father had made and offering your hatchling a few bites of your eggs. You’d gone back and forth for the last few days, weighing the pros and cons of each option, though what it really boiled down to was your friends; did you want to have more time to spend with the rest of your friend group – and potentially still be harassed by your less savory classmates – or would you rather have more time with Satoru and Suguru. In your heart, the answer had always been obvious, but you’d still hesitated, still walked through every reason you could think of for both options.

“I want to have my school lessons with Satoru and Suguru, too,” you said eventually, swallowing a mouthful of bread. Though you would never admit it to anyone else, you felt desperate for any amount of time you could spend with the boys, because ever since Suguru had arrived three years before and he and Satoru had started training together, you’d felt like they were slipping away from you – Satoru especially. The more the gap between you seemed to grow, and the closer the boys grew to each other, the more worried you got that you would never be able to catch up with them again, that they would slip away from you entirely. You didn’t know what you’d do if you lost your best friend to someone else, so any opportunity you had to keep him close, you were going to take.

There was a small part of you that felt guilty for that line of thinking, because Suguru was also your friend, and you knew he had a good heart, and that he never set out to hurt you or to try and “steal” Satoru from you, but deep down you were still terrified of Suguru replacing you as Satoru’s best friend. They’d been nothing but wonderful friends to you for the week you’d stayed at the estate, but you’d noticed every little moment and exchange between them that seemed almost like a second, silent language they’d developed in the three years they’d been living, studying, and training together; a language that was entirely foreign to you, but that you wanted desperately to learn, too.

“Alright then,” your father said, smiling reassuringly down at you. “We’ll get that settled with Gojo-sama later today, and when school begins again in a few days, you can start attending their classes with them.”

You nodded, a bit of tension bleeding from your shoulders at his support for your decision; not that you’d expected your parents to be upset with you, of course, but because it helped you feel like you really had made a good choice. You thanked him softly, then finished your breakfast in silence. 

By the time you’d finished eating, you were leaning against your mother more than just a little bit, and your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep once again. You rubbed your eyes as you fought back a yawn, and Takara shifted in her position draped around your neck. She chittered softly by your ear, and if you weren’t mistaken, she sounded just as tired as you were.

“Do the two of you want to go lay back down for a bit?” your mother asked, a soft, affectionate look in her eyes.

“Yes please,” you said around a yawn.

“Go ahead,” she encouraged. “We’ll wake you again in a bit for lunch.”

Mumbling a small thanks, you pushed yourself up from your spot on the floor, easily letting your father take your breakfast dishes from you before you made your way back to your bedroom. You shut the door behind you, then set Takara on your pillow for a moment while you fiddled with your curtains, wanting to block out as much daylight as you could. Once you were satisfied, you crawled back into your bed, and you were asleep again practically the moment your head hit your pillow

A few hours later, you woke to your mother brushing your hair from your eyes and gently calling your name. She was smiling down at you, perched lightly on the edge of your bed as she roused you. 

“Did I oversleep again?” you asked around a yawn, rubbing your eyes for a moment.

“No, it’s only been about an hour,” she assured you. “But if you want any hope of falling asleep at a normal hour tonight, you should probably get up now.”

You gave a small hum at her words, finally pushing yourself into a sitting position. Without even thinking about it, you instantly picked up Takara and held her in your lap, just having the weight of her in your hands satisfying some part of your mind; you wondered if it was the same for everyone when their dragons were still just sleepy hatchlings.

“Is there anything we need to do today?” you asked after a moment. “If I stay sitting here at home all day I might fall asleep again.”

Your comment drew a small chuckle from your mother. “Fair enough,” she conceded. “I’m working on a few pieces of clothing today, but I’m out of one of the fabrics I need. I was going to send your father to the store to see if there’s any in stock, or if we’ll need to order more. He’s always happy to have company, so if you ask to go with him, I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

The mention of your family’s fabric shop made you perk up a bit; you hadn’t spent much time there as you’d gotten older, and now that you had the most important dragon in the last three centuries, it seemed unlikely that you’d have much opportunity to do so going forward. Knowing that, you weren’t about to pass up an opportunity to spend some time there with your father, even if the shop would technically be closed when you were there.

Eager to confirm with your father that you could join him on his errand, you thanked your mother, then slid out of bed and hurried to the living room, where your father was sitting in front of the fireplace with a book. He looked up when he heard your footsteps, and he smiled brightly when he saw that you were awake again. 

“Hello, you two,” he greeted warmly. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded, smiling back at him as you walked over. “Mom said she needs you to check the stock of some fabric at the store for her. Can Takara and I come with you?” you asked hopefully. 

As if trying to help convince your father, Takara lifted her head from where she laid curled up in your arms. Aiming her wide, emerald green eyes at him, she made a soft cooing noise. It wasn’t a common sound for dragons to make, but you recognized it as one that you’d heard Sparrow make once or twice, when she knew she was in trouble and was trying to appease your father when he grew upset with her; it was a soft, pleading noise, and one that you thought the dragons must generally find embarrassing or unbecoming, since you’d only ever heard one other dragon make it before in your whole life.

The sound had your father practically melting in his seat, though he did his best to maintain his composure. “Of course you can come,” he agreed easily. “I’ll get my keys and speak to your mother while you get dressed.”

A beaming grin brightened your expression at his words, and you enthusiastically thanked him before hurrying back to your room. You set Takara down for a few moments, letting her curl up on your pillow as you grabbed clothes to change into. Despite the sunshine that brightened your home right then, it was still winter, and living so close to the ocean often meant cold winds, regardless of the weather, so you grabbed what you knew would be best for the walk to your family’s shop: a grey long sleeve shirt – which upon putting on, you realized you would probably outgrow sooner rather than later – and a pair of warm black pants. At the last second, you also pulled on a pair of thick socks, made from a very soft, expensive woolen yarn – a material your father had managed to barter for a couple years before, in order to gift the yarn to your mother for the winter solstice.

Once you were dressed, you scooped Takara up once again and walked towards the front door, where your father was waiting for you, list in hand and Sparrow perched on his shoulder. “Would you like me to hold her for you while you put on your coat and your shoes?” he asked, nodding slightly towards your hatchling. 

You nodded gratefully, passing Takara to him before grabbing your boots. It wasn’t snowing outside, and hadn’t snowed significantly in a few days, but they were the only shoes you owned that didn’t have open toes, so on they went. As you fiddled with the laces, you heard Takara give the same little warning noise she’d given this morning, and you looked up to see Sparrow leaning down from your father’s shoulder to get a closer look at your hatchling, having apparently forgotten that that same hatchling had snapped at her earlier in the day. This time, though, she stayed out of range of Takara’s teeth, and eventually settled down on your father’s shoulder again, apparently satisfied with her investigation.

It didn’t take long after that for you to get your boots laced and tied and your coat buttoned up. You took Takara back from your father then, and held her at eye level for a moment. “Do you want to ride on my neck, or in my pocket?” you asked her. Then, realizing she almost certainly had no idea what any of those words meant, you asked again, this time a bit slower and pointing at the two places as you said the words.

Almost instantly, Takara began walking up your arm on wobbly legs, and you realized that she was trying to take her usual place draped around your neck.

“Alright,” you said, “I got it. Let me help you.” Carefully, you brought her to your neck, pulling the collar of your coat open a bit more to give her the space to make herself comfortable as she pleased. After you were sure she was settled, you looked up at your father. “We’re ready.”

Your father nodded, smiling a bit brighter. He turned to the door, turning the knob and pulling it open. “We’ll be back soon, my love!” he called out to your mother, then ushered you out the door.

For a moment, you squinted against the light, but all you could do was smile; the sun and wind on your face was refreshing, and just as you’d hoped, it served to wake you up even more. Walking alongside your father, you took in your surroundings with a newfound appreciation; not being able to leave the walls of the Gojo estate for a week had made you realize how much you missed the freedom to walk around and talk to people. It also made you feel even worse for your friends, being cooped up in the estate every day for the last three years, but you made up your mind to get them out as much as you could, regardless of what Gojo-sama thought.

For the first time since you were a small child, you found yourself dazzled by the settlement: the trees that lined the outskirts of the main town and nearly every walkway, even if most of them had few leaves still clinging to their branches; the homes with reinforced spots on their roofs because of years of dragons climbing on them; the cobblestones of the streets worn smooth by generations of footsteps and carts; the pristine shop faces around the square, despite the age of some of the buildings; even the sharp scent of salt that danced in on the winds the come off the ocean nearby felt precious to you, something to be savored and committed to memory.

Though it was midday by that point, there weren’t many people out and about, likely still recovering from the festival the night before; though you’d gone home with your parents somewhat early, you doubted that most other people had gone home before midnight, and that many people had likely had a great deal to drink in celebration of a metallic dragon now residing amongst them. 

You and your father made it to the shop – a smaller one, tucked in a far corner of the square – without encountering anyone else, and once your father unlocked the door, you stepped inside, a smile on your face. Being inside the shop had always felt calm, even when there were customers, but with just you and your father, it felt absolutely serene. As your father locked the door behind him, then set about looking for the fabrics on the list your mother had given him, you wandered about aimlessly, trailing your fingers over some of the softer fabrics. A dark green one in particular caught your eye, and you lingered on it for a moment. You’d never had a favorite color before, but ever since Gojo-hime had gifted you with green clothes, you’d found yourself growing more fond of it.

Maybe I could ask mom to make me something with that fabric, you thought to yourself; it was likely you’d need new clothes soon, anyways, so you couldn’t imagine she’d tell you no. 

A moment later, your father called your name, and you turned back to face him. There were two bolts of fabric in his arms, and you could see the corner of your mother’s list sticking out slightly from in between them. “I found most of what your mother needs, but I’ll have to get in contact with one of the merchants on the next island over to get the last fabric. Are you ready to go home?”

You were a bit disheartened to be leaving so quickly, but you nodded; you knew you’d be back with your mother when it came time for new clothes, so you did your best not to dwell on your disappointment. Since his arms were full, your father passed you the key, thanking you as you unlocked the door, then locked it again once the two of you were outside the shop. 

Just as you were pocketing the key, you heard someone walk up and start to make small talk with your father. You thought nothing of it, recognizing the voice as one of the regular customers to the shop, and they merely seemed curious about when the shop would be reopening again. When you stepped out from behind your father, though, the person paused for a moment.

“You’re the one with the metallic dragon,” they said, their tone somewhere between awestruck and nervous. 

“I am,” you confirmed. You couldn’t say you were necessarily surprised by the behavior, but you’d hoped it wouldn’t start right away when you started appearing in public again.

“That dragon of yours must be really special,” the person continued. “I didn’t get a good look at her at the festival yesterday. Any chance you could let me see her now?”

You hesitated, feeling a bit unsettled under their stare. “She’s at home,” you lied. “It’s too cold for her outside right now.” 

“I have a hard time believing that,” the person said, unconvinced. “Nobody goes anywhere without their dragon for the first few months. I just want a little peek, I’ve never gotten to see a metallic dragon in real life before.” 

Put off even further by the person’s intensity, you shifted back from them a bit. “Nobody had before last week,” you retorted, “because nobody’s seen a metallic dragon in three hundred years. It doesn’t mean you have to see one right now.”

Unfortunately for you, your snippy comment and slightly raised voice backfired, as it drew the attention of the few other people in the square, and they all began to make their way over.

“Is that the kid with the metallic dragon?” one man called out as he approached.

The person who addressed your father in the first place nodded, smiling wide. “Yes! They were just about to show me their dragon, too.”

Hearing those words, everyone else lit up, hurrying to gather around you, all of them jostling one another to try and get the closest to you, each of them eager to get the best look at your hatchling.

You felt yourself bristle at the blatant lie that had just been told, but before you could snap back a reply, the whole group was practically on top of you, invading your space much more than you ever could have anticipated; it wouldn’t have been a huge surprise to you if someone had tried to reach out and grab you in that moment. The rush of attention was even worse than being stared at by the entire settlement at the festival the night before; this felt more pointed, more invasive.

Thankfully, your father was good at picking up on your distress, and he did his absolute best to put himself between you and the gathered group. He was not a large man, though, and he could only protect you so much from the insistent crowd. Even Sparrow came to your defense, hissing and snapping at people when they pressed in closer, trying to drive them back, but it only resulted in her getting into a spitting match with someone else’s dragon. For once, Takara was silent in her hiding spot, but you could feel how fast her heart was beating against your neck, her distress both echoing and amplifying your own.

You put your hand in your pocket, clutching the key to the shop door tightly in your hand; if you needed to escape inside, you would, and it looked like it was going to come to that, despite your father’s best efforts to protect you and disperse the group of people. Each passing moment pressed you further and further into the door, and you had just begun to fumble with the lock when a familiar voice broke through the warring voices of your father and the near obsessive crowd pressing you back.

“That’s enough!” Kento’s father shouted, his footsteps approaching from across the square. His words carried across the open space easily, ringing out with an authority your father’s voice simply didn’t have. It was enough to startle the group into turning around, and when they saw Kento’s father – a tall, well-muscled man, noticeable even under the sweater he wore, and with real anger in his eyes – making his way towards him, they parted to make room for him.

“You should all be ashamed of yourselves, harassing a child,” he said, finally reaching the cluster of people. “Leave, right now. Find something better to do with your time, and think about this ridiculous behavior.” When the group seemed to hesitate, his gaze hardened even further. “Didn’t you hear me? I said. Go. Home.”

Apparently deciding not to challenge the hard look in his eyes, the crowd dispersed, most of the muttering unhappily under their breath. Kento’s father turned to you then, brows furrowed with concern. “Are the two of you alright?” he asked, voice much gentler than just a few moments before. “I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner, I didn’t realize what was going on until Kokoro came to fetch me.”

Your father shook his head. “No need to apologize,” he promised. “We’re thankful you were here to help at all.” He turned and looked at you over his shoulder, frowning worriedly. “Are you okay?”

A moment of hesitation, then you nodded slowly; you still felt a bit shaken, yes, having not expected such intense focus on you and Takara, nor such intense disrespect of your boundaries, but you knew your father had done what he could to protect you, even if it wasn’t quite enough on its own. “Yes,” you said quietly. “I’m fine. Thank you, Nanami-san,” you added, looking over at your friends’ father; you really were grateful for his intervention, unsure how much the situation would’ve escalated without it. Then, after a beat, you looked back to your father and asked, voice small, “Can we go home now?”

He nodded immediately. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s get back to your mother.”

Nodding back, you quickly fell into step beside him, staring down at the cobblestones as you walked, not wanting to risk drawing any extra attention to yourself. Having Kento’s father walking behind you, wordlessly escorting you home, helped soothe your fears, but it also solidified one thing in your mind: your life would never again be what it was, and that no longer felt like a good thing.

thank you guys for your patience with me, and thank you for sticking around and still reading this big au, i really can't express my appreciation enough 💜

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