#i’d give them my life your honour.

[parkercore-69]

me offhandedly telling a friend that i’d really like to get a few of the saw dvds from cex to add to my dvd collection but being unable to due to complications with being a minor who can’t by 18s alone, to which she responded “yeah but is it really a matter of life or death??” while i sat mouth agape gawking at the audacity she had to say such a thing.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Your Witch (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: It's your hand in marriage in return for ending the terror against your town, and your parents have decided. The Witch of the Westview Woods is to be your wife. No matter how much you might protest.

Words: 7k

Warnings: Arranged marriage, shades of self harm, toxic family relationships, virgin R, oral (R receiving), shades of a praise kink

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme@grilledcheeseandguavajelly

“I will not.”

You glared at your parents, arms crossed over your chest, lips pursed. Anger was coursing through your veins, hot and acute, making you vibrate. You had to keep from growling at them, or lashing out. This was a level of disrespect you weren’t willing to live with. This was a step too far. This was the straw that was breaking the camel’s back.

“It’s already been arranged,” your father said, his arm around your mother’s shoulder, providing a united front.

“I won’t,” you said.

“It’s your duty,” your father said.

“Duty?” you scoffed, “and what of your duty as my parents?”

“What would you have us do?” your mother demanded.

“Not sell me off like some farm animal for your own comfort,” you spat.

“The Witch of the Westview Woods has made her request clear. If we give her you she will leave our town alone,” your father said.

“I doubt she even knows who I am,” you muttered.

“You are more than aware of your reputation in town. She made her choice. You are to be hers and in exchange our safety will be ensured. You should feel honoured to be serving our town,” your father said.

“I’d be more honoured if I wasn’t the sacrificial lamb,” you said, “you would never have agreed to this if it was James she asked for.”

Your younger brother was the favourite. You knew it. You parents knew it. Everyone knew it. If the Witch had demanded him, your father would have fought tooth and nail to keep him. But the moment it was you being asked for, he was shoving you out the door. James was the heir, you were just a measly daughter. No one needed you except to increase the social status of your family.

No wonder you were being sold off to the first witch that came along.

“And I don’t see why it has to be a marriage,” you said before they could give a half hearted excuse.

“We’re not risking you running off after you’ve been collected by her,” he said.

“I can run off when I’m married to her,” you muttered.

“You’ll do no such thing,” your mother snapped, “now, stop this silliness. This a show of good faith. An exchange. She receives something precious to us in return for our safety.”

“You don’t have to pretend as if you’re not excited about this,” you said.

“It’s a great honour to be chosen by her,” she said.

“Then you do it!.”

You stomped away, hiking your skirt up to speed up. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, you let the entire household know exactly how you felt. Falling back on the bed, you buried your face in your pillow and screamed.

The Witch of the Westview Woods had been terrorising your town for as long as anyone could remember. Children stolen in the night, fires set, storms tearing the roofs off homes. Floods and locusts and droughts. One thing after another that no one should be capable of. But she had magic and no matter who was sent to slay her, she triumphed.

And you were being handed right to her.

If you survived to the years end you would be surprised. It made no sense for you to be the exact thing that would save the town. If it all it took was marrying her, how hard could it be to vanquish her?

This whole thing reeked of something. You just wish you knew what it was.

And yet you found yourself being shoved into a white dress the next afternoon, your hair pinned tight enough to bring on a headache and makeup painted over your face. Poked and prodded, your mother’s servants got you ready for the moment your life was going to end.

Walking towards the church, your father was your guard, his hand around your arm keeping you from slipping away and living life as a vagrant. Anything would be better than the fate that awaited you at the end of that alter.

The organ music began and on heavy feet you were dragged down the aisle. Fuming, you refused to even look at your bride as you were forced to stand in front of her. You were slow to drag your gaze up her body, over her bare feet and deep purple skirts, over her laced up bodice and into bright blue eyes. Your mouth fell open, shocked by the woman staring back you with an assessing gaze and lips curling up into a smile.

This was not a wild hag living in the woods. This was a woman beautiful enough to steal your breath. This was a problem.

One way or another, the Witch of the Westview Woods was going to kill you.

Her voice was husky as she repeated the vows, blue eyes burning you as her gaze rested on your face. You stumbled through your own vows, the wind taken out of your sails. The anger had fizzled out in the face of this woman, so unexpected, so unlike anything you could have anticipated.

Her hand took yours, warm and steady where you felt unbalanced. She slipped the ring on your finger, the cool metal heavy and you found yourself having to swallow past a lump in your throat. You whispered your I do and then her hand was grasping yours and she was dragging you out of the chapel.

“Come on, hon,” she said, “we have a wedding night to get to.”

Your cheeks heated.

You didn’t even glance back at your family as she practically flew out of town. Her hand was steady in yours, gripping tight enough to hurt. She plunged into the forest, branches whipping at you. Any time you stumbled, her strong arm would curl around your waist and steady you before taking off again.

The house that emerged from the trees was small, a cottage covered in ivy, plants snarled together in the garden, a soft light glowing in the window. She shoved the door open, pulling you into the interior of the home. It was comfortable, a fire burning in the hearth. Books were in tumbling piles and there was an armchair draped in a soft looking blanket. She dropped your hand, stepping further into her home.

“Home sweet home,” she hummed.

She flopped down into her armchair, grinning up at you. You hesitated at the door, the lace of your dress scratching at your skin, buttons pinching, too tight to breathe properly. She was watching you from behind wild hair, assessing you.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” she asked.

“No,” you said, taking a step forward.

“C’mere, hon,” she said.

On unsure feet you drew closer to her. Long fingers reached out, snagging on the skirt of your dress, the lace dirty and ripped from your flight through the forest. Her fingers ran over the material, looking up at you from under lowered lashes.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to slip into something more comfortable?” she asked, voice a low rumble that had your knees turning to jelly.

“I didn’t bring anything with me,” you said.

“Even better.” She brightened, “do you need any help?”

You squeaked, cheeks aflame as your eyes widened and your mouth fell open. She chuckled, falling back to slouch in the chair.

“Feel free to wear anything you find upstairs,” she said, nodding towards the stairs.

You lingered a moment before making your way upstairs. It was only one room, a large bed dominating the room. You skirted around it, doing your best to ignore it. The wardrobe had clothes spilling out, a mishmash of materials, all in shades of purple.

You tore the buttons from the dress, doing your best to get out of it. You didn’t bother trying to be careful, never wanting to see the torture device again. Reaching in, you grabbed the first dress you could find. Lilac was not a colour you were often given over to wearing, but you supposed it was the best you had. You opened the window, throwing your heels outside into the garden, your feet thanking you for it.

Padding downstairs on bare feet, you found the Witch curled up in the chair, a book open in her lap. A bunny hopped past and you found yourself smiling.

“Señor Scratchy likes you,” she said without even glancing up from the page she was reading.

“You have a pet bunny?” you asked.

“Every witch has to have a familiar,” she replied.

“Is that a rule or a guideline?” you wondered.

Her gaze finally dragged up to you and something in it darkened, sweeping over you in her dress. You froze but her grin was pleased.

“Well, aren’t you a vision in purple,” she purred.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

Lingering by the stairs you let her look her fill. Your weight shifted from foot to foot, not quite sure what she’d be expecting from you. It was your wedding night. You knew how these things usually went.

“Do you cook?” she asked once she was done.

“Do I…? I can,” you answered.

“Good because I’ve been missing that skill for more years than is polite,” she said.

“I can do that,” you said, nodding to yourself.

The kitchen was small and pokey, washing up needing to be done before you could even begin cooking. Having something to do with your hands made it easier being in that cottage. You could focus on that rather than the woman in the other room.

She was nothing like you’d expected. She was hardly the horrifying figure of legend you’d spent your entire life hearing about. She wasn’t even particularly mean as far as you could tell. Disarming, flirty, overwhelming, sure. She was all those things. But not horrifying.

You passed her a plate of food once you were done, doing your best with the ingredients you could find. She didn’t look up, taking it from you, fingers picking at the food. You lowered yourself onto the rug in front of the fire, eating your own meal.

“Not bad,” she muttered, mouth half full of food.

You looked up from the flickering flames, watching her eat. She hardly had the manners that had been drilled into you by your mother. Eating with her hands, she tore through the meat with her teeth, looking half wild. Her eyes were roving over the pages of her book, not paying you any attention.

The sky had darkened outside the window, the only light coming from the lamp lit beside her and the fire you were sitting in front of. The light played over the planes of her face, cheeks sunk beneath sharp cheekbones, eyes shadowed, skin pale. She truly was beautiful.

Maybe you could make this marriage work.

“You’re staring,” Her voice was a low rumble.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Just say whatever is going through your pretty little head,” she said, finally looking up at you.

She pinned you under her gaze. Her tongue dragged along her lips, and you found yourself considering all the things that tongue could do. Your cheeks flamed and you had to remind yourself this was a woman who went out of her way to hurt people.

“You’re not what I was expecting,” you blurted out.

“Were you hoping for some wizened old crone?” she asked.

“The stories were hazy. No one’s seen you in a while,” you replied, “and you’ve been around a while so…”

“So you naturally assumed I would be ravaged by the hands of time,” she said, “aren’t you lucky I wasn’t.”

You pressed your lips together, fingers wringing at your skirts. You hadn’t anticipated flirting. You hadn’t prepared for it. You hadn’t figured out how to respond to it.

“Aren’t you just adorable,” she hummed, “I promise I’ll make you a very happy wife.��

The implication of her words sent a spark of heat through your veins, right between your legs. If she kept talking in that voice, it would be so easy to ignore all the evil acts she’d done and let her have her way with you. No one in your town had ever elicited this reaction in you.

“Yes, that’s the look,” she said, “I picked well.”

She settled back in her chair, smirking at you. You ducked your head, not able to handle her scrutiny. Although, if the way your heart was racing was any indication, the wedding night with your new bride wouldn’t be as bad as you’d thought it would be.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you stood, collecting her empty plate from the arm of her chair. Washing up, you ignored the sound of her in the other woman. This was hardly the life you were expecting to have for yourself. Even in the last 24 hours, you’d grown used to the idea of spending your life with a hag whose company you could never enjoy.

The Witch had turned out to be both beautiful and charming, if not incredibly disarming.

“Come here, hon,” she called through the door.

On unsure feet, you returned to her. She was standing by the fire, staring down into it. You paused behind her, waiting.

“It’s been a long day. You must be tired,” she said.

“I suppose,” you said.

“Come on. Bed time.”

Her hand slipped into yours, tugging you up the stairs. Anticipation curled in your stomach. It wouldn’t be so bad. You might even enjoy it. With the Witch. And not the hag you’d been expecting. There would be no need to close your eyes and think of something else as she got on with it.

“Here,” she said, shoving a gauzy piece of fabric at you.

“You want me to change?” you asked, staring down at it.

“Unless you want to sleep in that dress, but I promise you that will be more comfortable,” she said.

“Oh.”

“Sleep well, hon,” she said, one foot already on the top stair.

“You’re not staying?” you asked.

She paused, eyes sweeping over you.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you should get your rest,” she said.

She left you standing by the bed, clutching a negligee, wondering what you’d done wrong. Trying to ignore your disappointment, you changed into the nightdress, the lace and gauzy material sexier than anything you’d owned back home. You left those thoughts, slipping into the large bed. It was comfortable, more so than you’d been expecting, the blankets soft and warm, the sheets smooth. Laying your head on one of the pillows, you stared up at the ceiling.

Many hours passed, alone in the bed, ears straining for the sound of the Witch down below. The stairs creaked as she climbed them, padding on soft feet. You closed your eyes, not wanting to be caught disobeying orders. The soft thump of fabric hitting the floor, a shuffle, and then the mattress was dipping beside you.

“Does the bed not meet your standards?” she asked into the darkness.

You sighed, eyes blinking open.

“It’s very comfortable,” you said.

“Were you waiting for me?”

The bed shifted. Her warmth brushed against you and a hand slid over your waist. You stiffened, then forced yourself to relax. This was more what you were expecting. Touches and a bed and the cover of darkness.

“Relax, hon,” she whispered, the hand retreating.

You turned your head, staring at her in the darkness. She rolled over, presenting her back to you, leaving you nothing back dark hair to look at. You watched her breathe for a moment.

“What should I call you?” you whispered across the distance.

“What?” She rolled to look at you.

“I can’t keep calling you the Witch,” you said, “I don’t know your name.”

“Huh.” She rolled back to where she was before, not giving you an answer.

You watched her for a moment more before you sighed. Rolling over, keeping your back to her, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax.

“Agatha,” she whispered. You froze, “my name is Agatha.”

You settled down, holding her name close to your heart, like it was something precious. No one in town knew her name. This was just for you.

From that day you settled into some kind of routine with Agatha. You’d wake early while she luxuriated in bed long after the sun had risen. You’d clean and cook and tend to the garden, doing all you could to turn her cottage into a home. Agatha would swan in and out of the house, sometimes gone for hours, singing under her breath, or muttering curses.

In the evenings, she’d curl up in her chair and you’d sit on the rug, whiling away the hours in companionable silence. You’d embroider or begin the process of drying herbs, or stare at the flames as you thought with Señor Scratchy in your lap.

You hadn’t been back to town, nor had you heard from your family. They’d well and truly abandoned you the moment you’d said I do. Truth be told, you weren’t sure you wanted to see them. They’d given you up so easily and clearly weren’t missing you. In your cottage deep within the Westview Woods, you were comfortable and safe and calm. You knew your place and you were never forced to do anything you didn’t want to do.

Sometimes you’d catch Agatha watching you. Blue eyes peering out the window as you worked at taming the garden or glancing up from a book as you cuddled with Señor Scratchy. Each time it made you self conscious but you never asked her about it. The relationship was tenuous at best. You didn’t want to upset her.

She would still flirt with you and she still seemed to gain enjoyment from flustering you. But she wasn’t doing anything to treat you like a real wife. You had no clue what it was she was getting out of this arrangement other than a maid. If that was what she’d wanted, she could have just asked for it. The wedding wasn’t necessary.

And yet you were her wife and you would be until one of you died.

It took about a month before you cracked open one of her books one night. You had no idea what she could be reading and your curiosity got the better of you in a moment of boredom. Looking down at the page, the incomprehensible symbols made no sense to you. Flicking through more and more pages, you tried to understand.

“Interested in magic?” she asked.

Startled, you dropped the book. Apologising, you snatched it up, turning to look at her. She was standing in the doorway, night pressing in behind her, returned from wherever it was she disappeared to for those long hours. There was an errant leaf tangled in her hair. Standing, she froze as you reached out, tugging it free and throwing it behind her, out the door.

You hadn’t realised how close you’d gotten to her. Her face was so close to yours you could count the shades of blue in her eyes. Your breath froze in your chest and you stilled.

“It’s not safe to learn magic on your own,” she whispered, reaching for the book in your hand.

You let her take it without argument, a sense of shame from being caught reminding you how this conversation had started. You stepped away from her, putting distance between the two of you. After weeks together, you thought her ability to fluster you with just her presence were gone, but your heart was thundering and you felt breathless.

“If you’re looking for a mentor, I’m more than happy to teach you,” she said, voice softening.

“You’d teach me magic?” you asked.

“What are wives for?” she said, sweeping into the room, depositing the book on top of a tilting stack. If the way you were feeling was any indication, wives were for a lot more than teaching magic.

She settled you on the rug, taking her usual place in her chair. At her feet, you gazed up at her, trying to ignore the way there was a throbbing between your legs and fire in your veins. She reached out, taking your hand, delicate fingers manipulating it until it was in a position that met her approval.

“Alright, the first thing you should know is that your power comes from deep within you. Not everyone has enough to create even a spark of magic. Do not feel disappointed if you can’t. It takes a very special woman to do even the most simple of magic,” she said.

“You must be the most special woman in the world then,” you said, looking at the point where her hand met yours.

When she didn’t respond to you, you looked up. She was staring down at you, something unreadable in her eyes you hadn’t seen before.

“I suppose I am,” she replied, but it wasn’t with the cocky little tilt of her head you’d grown used to, “now, burrow down deep into yourself. Find that well of power, see what you have.”

You closed your eyes, feeling her finger stroke over the palm of your hand, trying to find what she was talking about. All you found was the fire she brought out in you, the anger still simmering at your family, the disappointment and hurt you’d been carrying for longer than you could count at your place in the world. It was why you kept your hands busy, refusing to look too deeply into the way your family had let you down.

It burnt. Lingering on it hurt. The scars left on your soul were sore to the touch. You pressed harder. The pain, at least, was a relief from the feeling of shame you carried with you at all hours of the day.

“Well, would you look at that.”

You blinked your eyes open, finding light reflected in Agatha’s eyes. Cradled in the palm of your hand was a pale blue energy, roiling and rolling in the air. Your mouth fell open, staring at it, trying to wrap your head around what you had done.

It flickered out.

“Apparently I’m not the only special woman in this house,” Agatha murmured.

You cheeks heated, eyes widened as you stared up into her face. She lent forward, fingertips brushing over the apple of your cheeks, soft and gentle, barely there, making you shiver.

“Yes, I chose very well,” she said, drawing back.

Under her assessing gaze, you did it again and again and again, until your head began to hurt. She put you to bed, tucking you in, fingers gently running through your hair until you fell asleep. Just a month ago, you could have never imagined being treated so comfortingly by her.

So began the next phase of your routine. Your days were your own but your nights were Agatha’s. In front of the fire, sitting at her feet, a desperate need to please her, she taught you to wield and control your own power. Her murmured praises and her soft touches made your head spin, addictive and heady, only spurring you on for more.

Watching from the window one afternoon, the sunlight streaming through the boughs of the trees above, you focused on Agatha wandering through the garden. You’d tidied it since arriving, giving it more order, planting things you found out in the forest to go with what you already found strangled under the weeds. Your hands had been in the dirt, coaxing life back into the garden.

She bowed her head over a flower, you thought maybe smelling it. A smile bloomed over your own face, watching her as she moved around the garden. She was so gentle with the plants, pausing occasionally to look at the work you’d done. You wished you knew what she was thinking but she was always so enigmatic. You never knew what was going on behind her eyes.

When she returned to the cottage, a flower was clutched in her hand, petals soft, a new bloom. You looked up from the book she’d asked you to read, legs curled beneath you, skirt pushed up around your knees to bring some cool air to your skin. Spring had well and truly arrived.

“Are you working for me?” she purred.

You nodded, watching her swaying hips as she approached. All those touches and all that praise had only made it harder to pretend as if she didn’t set you alight. She crouched in front of you. With careful fingers, she tucked the flower behind your ear. Your breath caught. She tilted your chin up, the touch of her fingers against your skin making you heat again. Her eyes roved over your face, drinking you in.

“Beautiful,” she whispered.

It was like being pierced by an arrow. You would have fallen into her in that moment, the words begging for a kiss tingling on your lips. Before they could spill out, she stood, leaving you on the rug, breathless and wanting.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” she said, turning from you.

Her skirt fanned out around her calves and just the flash of skin had your mouth drying. It wasn’t as if you’d seen the sight before, but every time it only made you more desperate to see more. It took a moment for her words to make sense to you.

“You are?” you asked, scrabbling to your feet.

“I’m afraid so,” she said, fingers tracing over the spines of some of her books, “I have business in the next town over. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course,” you said, voice small.

“You might want to go visit your family while I’m gone. You must be missing them,” she said.

“Okay.”

“Aw, don’t pout, kitten,” she said, curling her arm around your waist as she turned back to you, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her hand burned through the thin fabric of your dress. It was these touches that drove you mad. You always wanted more, to feel that touch on every inch of your body. She pulled you closer, soft curves pressing against yours in a way that had your head reeling.

“Try not to miss me too much,” she said before releasing you.

You could only watch as she moved back to the door. She lingered in the doorway, snatching one last look at you before she swept out of the cottage. Despite the fire roaring and the sun streaming in through the window, you felt suddenly cold.

The days stretched without Agatha in the cottage. The bed was too big and although you could sit in the chair before the fire at night rather than the hard flagstones beneath the rug, it left you feeling unsettled. You lazed through the days, perking up at every little sound, hope climbing up your throat only to be crushed back down when it wasn’t her return.

When the storm swept in, you felt the first pangs of worry. Sequestered in the house, you were climbing the walls, not able to drown your worry in work in the garden. The cottage was clean and there was only so much folding and refolding of clothes you could do before you began to question your sanity.

Lying in bed, you did your best to keep your thoughts away from Agatha. With the storm raging outside, it was easy to conjure images of her getting hurt or stranded, flashes of lightning striking her down too far away for you to find her and bring her home. You tossed and turned, the bed feeling huge and empty and cold without Agatha in it with you.

A crash from downstairs had you jolting up. You froze, listening intently. Another bang. Crawling to the edge of the bed, your heart was thundering, fear seeping into your veins. Sneaking to the top of the stairs, you peeked down.

A shadowed figure was standing in front of the fire, burnt down to their embers. You grasped the closest heavy object, a candlestick fancier than anything else in the cottage that you’d never quite built up the courage to ask about, and crept down the stairs. The figure didn’t seem to hear you, bending to stoke the flames. Raising the candlestick above your head, you swung.

A pale hand whipped out in a flash of lightning, grasping your wrist. The candlestick clattered to the floor. You gasped.

“This wasn’t quite the warm welcome home I was hoping for,” Agatha said.

“You’re back,” you said, breathless, heart thumping for a whole new reason.

“You weren’t expecting someone else, were you?”

You threw yourself into her arms, not even bothering to answer her. The joy at her reappearance in your cozy cottage was overwhelming. She chuckled, catching you, pressing her face to the top of your head.

“Now this is more what I was hoping for,” she said.

She trembled in the cage of your arms. Pulling back, you realised she was completely soaked through, wet hair stuck to her skin in a tangle. Her clothes were plastered to her and she was shivering. You ran your hands down her arms, feeling the goosebumps, grasping her hands.

“You’re freezing,” you said, “come here and warm up.”

You sat her down in her chair, stoking the fire until the flames began to blaze again. You turned, finding her gaze locked on you. It was dark and dangerous, roving over you with a level of possession you weren’t used to. Your knees trembled, turning to jelly as she drank her fill.

Glancing down, you realised your negligee was clinging to your body, wet from the embrace you’d given her, see through in all the places you weren’t sure you wanted it to be. Your eyes met hers again, your shiver nothing to do with the rain water seeping into your skin. Her tongue ran along her lower lip, stealing your breath.

“You should get out of those wet clothes,” you whispered.

“Is that an offer, hon?” she asked.

You’d missed her. You wanted her. And from the way she was looking at you, she wanted you too. So why not take what you wanted? She certainly had when she’d demanded a wedding.

“Yes.”

Her face brightened before it settled into something more predatory. Holding a hand out to you, she pulled you towards her. You fell into her lap, a small squeak on your lips. Her hand slid up your thigh, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

You lent forward, capturing her lips in an all consuming kiss. She growled, hands grasping you, dragging you closer. You whimpered into her mouth, hands clutching at her shoulders. She burned beneath you, every point of contact making you quiver. Her lips were searing hot as they made their way down the column of your neck. Your head tipped back, giving her more access, fingers burying themselves in her hair. Her name was a breathy moan on your lips. When her teeth sunk in, you groaned, pressing her closer.

“We’ve been married for months,” you murmured, breathless, desperate for her.

“We have,” she said, whispered into her skin.

Her tongue ran over your skin. You forgot what you were saying, luxuriating in the feeling of her worshipping your neck. Her hand was pushing up past the hem of your negligee, seeking out warm skin.

“You were saying, hon?” she asked, lips brushing your skin.

“Oh uh…” Her fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh, “just that you…”

“I?” she murmured, finding the vulnerable spot behind your jaw.

“You never asked me to fulfil my wifey duties,” you sighed.

“I’m not a monster who forces young women to got to bed with me when they don’t want to,” she said before her lips closed over your earlobe.

“But I did want to,” you sighed, “I do.”

“So I’m gathering, hon,” she said.

You kissed her again, already addicted to her taste. With arms stronger than you were expecting, she lifted you, laying you down on the rug you’d spent so many evenings on. The fire was warm from so close, the air heating the chill of the night. A clap of thunder boomed above the house. You jumped, before laughing, self conscious at your own reaction. Her smile was fond.

“You know, when I gave you this nightie, I was hoping you’d look as delicious as I’d imagined,” she said, one hand stroking down your side, “it looks even better when it’s wet.”

She drew back, looking down at you. The front was completely soaked through, practically baring you to her faze. You shivered, breath stuttering. The look in her eye suggested she wanted to eat you alive. Her hand stroked between your breasts, pressing against your stomach when you wriggled beneath her.

“Stay still, pet. I’m enjoying my new wife,” she said.

Both hands cupped your breasts through the lace and silk of the dress you were in. Each nipple was already peaked, pebbling from the chilled water you’d had pressed against your skin. Palming them, she watched your face. You whimpered, not used to someone else touching you like this.

“You make such pretty noises for me, pet,” she said right as she pinched your nipples.

Your back arched up into her touch, offering yourself to her. Your hands grasped her hips, breathing coming fast.

“Have you ever done this before?” she asked, watching you writhe under her touch.

“No,” you sighed.

“Really?” She sat back to look at you, a look of pleasure passing over her face, “I’ll be your first?”

“No one ever made me want to before,” you replied, pushing your hands under her skirts, wanting to feel her skin. It was as soft as you’d imagined, the muscles of her thighs strong under your palms.

“You are a gift,” she said before swooping in to kiss you again.

You lost yourself in it, your entire body a live wire underneath her. She hummed when your hands delved further up her skirt, the fabric still heavy with rain. You pulled away, ignoring the displeased noise she made.

“I wasn’t kidding about getting you out of these wet clothes. You’ll catch your death,” you said.

“Well, if you insist.”

She stood, pulling the dress over her head. In the firelight, she was nothing but enticing shadows and soft curves. You stared, overwhelmed with how beautiful she was. You could spend the rest of your life looking at this view. Pushing up onto your elbows, you let your gaze travel over her, practically drooling. You pressed your thighs together.

“Do I pass muster?” she asked.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” you breathed.

Something shifted in her face, almost as if you’d surprised her. In the shadows, you couldn’t be sure, but you thought her cheeks might be flushed. She lowered back onto her knees, straddling your waist. Your hands skimmed over her ribs, feeling her inhale beneath your fingertips. You cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of them in your palms.

“I think it’s only fair that I return the favour,” she said, “after all, I got you all wet.”

Your cheeks heated and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, but you let her peel the negligee from your body, throwing it aside. Her hands were everywhere, barely touching you. Your whimper only had her grinning down at you.

“Use your words, pet,” she said.

“Touch me,” you begged, “please, Agatha.”

“All you had to do was ask,” she said before her hands were back on your body.

Her lips were soon to follow after, wrapping around one nipple. Your strangled moan only seemed to spur her on. The rumble of a groan vibrated through your body and you arched up into her mouth.

Her hands were sliding further down your body and you felt on fire. When she began to press kisses to your sternum, making her way down your body, you gasped. Her hands were gently as they parted your legs, settling between them. You had no idea how she was doing it, but your entire body was a live wire, sending you insane with how good it felt.

“I need you to tell me if you’re about to change your mind,” she said, her lips pressing the crease of your thigh, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop once I’ve tasted you.”

“If you stop you can go back out into that storm right now,” you said.

“I knew I chose right.”

Your head fell back as her tongue made contact with the hot throbbing between your legs. You cursed, loud enough to be heard over the thunder still crashing up above, and your hips jumped up into her mouth. Her talent didn’t just lie in magic, although it felt pretty magical whatever it was she was doing. You gave yourself over to it, uncaring that you were being too loud or too desperate. Nothing had ever felt as good as her mouth on you.

Your fingers tangled in her hair, holding her there, hips undulating. When her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves you knew resided between your thighs, you made a choked noise, her name unintelligible. She was moaning, the vibrations driving you crazy, spinning higher and higher. Your legs were trembling where they rested over her shoulders.

When the dam broke, you screamed, clutching at her. Looking up your body, she caught your eye, the smouldering burning in her gaze only making you wonder what she would look like when you returned the favour. She drew back, her grin very satisfied despite you being the boneless body on the rug.

“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” you whispered.

“You’ve never…?” she asked.

“Never like that,” you said.

The fingers in her hair tugged her up your body. Your legs curled around her waist as you kissed her, tasting yourself on her tongue. She chuckled, drawing away, fingers running over your lower lip.

“You are a wonder,” she said, “I knew you would be that first time I saw you.”

“When did you see me?” you asked, sure you’d remember if you’d seen her before the wedding.

“I’d heard rumours of the town beauty, grown into a woman of marriageable age. The way the men were hoping to own you. I’ll admit I was curious. And then, there you were, wandering through my woods, a basket of flowers on your arm. I happened to be passing by as you stopped to speak to a lovely little bunny and I knew I had to have you,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m never wrong about these things.”

“So that’s why you asked for me specifically,” you mused.

“I wanted the prettiest girl in the village,” she said before she swooped down to kiss you again. For a while, you could get lost in it.

“Agatha,” you sighed when her lips began to trace a path down your neck again.

“Come, pet. I’ve had a long journey and I’m tired. I’d much rather sleep in our bed,” she said.

She rose, holding a hand out to you. You grasped it, letting her haul you to your feet. Stumbling you fell against her body, warm skin against warm skin, making your head spin. She slipped her arm around your waist, holding you close.

She swept you up into her arms, carrying you up the stairs. Depositing you on the bed, you stared up at her until she slipped between the sheets, taking the place that had been empty for too many days. She held her arms open to you, letting you curl against her her side.

“I’m glad you chose me to be your wife,” you whispered, face buried in the place her shoulder met her throat.

“As am I, hon,” she murmured, lips pressing to the top of your head.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax properly for the first time since she’d left. Her fingertips were trailing over your skin, stroking in a comforting rhythm. You were on the edge of sleep when you heard her soft whisper.

“I didn’t expect you to stay.”

Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head up towards her. She was already gazing down at you, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I gave you leave to return to your family. I was expecting to find our home empty upon my return,” she said.

“But we’re married,” you said.

“That’s never stopped a woman before,” she replied.

“Why would I choose my family when I have you? They’d never forgive me for leaving you. They gave me no choice in my future,” you said, “I don’t want to ever see them again.”

“They didn’t?” Her fingers tightened in your hair.

“They told me I’d be marrying you. There was no discussion, no understanding that perhaps I didn’t want this.” You shifted closer to her, legs tangling together, “stupid girl. How could I ever not want you?”

“I’m a centuries old witch that terrorises local towns?” she suggested.

“Maybe, but you’re my witch,” you said, “and more importantly, you’re my wife. And I choose you. I didn’t like when you were gone. I was counting down the minutes you’d return.”

“Next time, would you like to come with me?” she asked.

“Please,” you said.

“Then you will,” she replied.

Your lips brushed her skin as you settled against her again, closing your eyes, kissing the closest part of her. Her breath hitched and she tightened her arms around you. Holding her close, you sighed, letting yourself relax again. With her home you had nothing to worry about anymore.

“More fool your parents for handing over the only person who could bring me to my knees,” she murmured, so soft you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it.

Slipping closer to sleep, comforted by the sounds of her breath and the warmth of her skin, you thought maybe being forced to marry the Witch of the Westview Woods was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

[reverie-starlight]

{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

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

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Damien Quotes

i want him to chuck a water bottle at me ♥︎

“You are a person that is overflowing with love to give, and that is not too much, that is fucking beautiful.”

“I’m not going to get mad, I just want to know who did this to you.”

“My fire is a part of me.”

“I can do good. That’s all I want to do. I want to help.”

“Now who whimpers?”

“Well if you four would stop teasing me, I could stop doing my best impression of a furnace.”

“I have never felt more flaccid in my entire life.”

“Oh, he thinks I’m funny when I’m mad? Huxley has no idea what I look like when I’m mad.”

“C’mon nature boy, let’s get natural.”

“Handsome man [he’s saying this with a :3 on his face you can’t convince me otherwise]”

“Huxley, I need you.”

“I want all this anger to mean something.”

“I can walk.”

“You’re always so gentle with me. With everything. I-I’m not used to that.”

“Body like yours needs a little worship, you know?”

“Yeah. I’m fine… I’m freaking out.”

“A-are you gonna serve, or what? [he’s too busy gawking at Huxley’s muscles to realise he’s holding the ball himself, not Hux]”

“The rolls aren’t aerodynamic enough. I can’t get enough speed behind them.”

“Huxley seems to think threats are a way I express love.”

“Who. Was. It?”

“I’ve gotten pretty good at screaming at walls.”

“You remember that positive outlook when you’re ripping out your happy trail trying to get dried cum out of it.”

“I spent a lot of nights thinking about all the stuff this body of yours could do.”

“Hey. I don’t just care about it as a morally wrong action for the sake of it. I care about you. You’re my friend. A good one. And my friend is hurting, and I can do something about it, so I’m going to.”

“You are the person I choose. And I’m so fucking grateful that you’ve chosen me.”

“He [Huxley] does make it hard to get mad at him, even when he is doing something asinine. It’s like trying to stay mad at a puppy. Just doesn’t feel right.”

“The bear’s cute… For the record though, you’re the only teddy bear I need.”

“I’m made of tough stuff too Hux… and I like it rough…”

“All I can think about is worshipping this incredible body of yours.”

“It’s all yours.”

“God I love how big your hands are.”

“I don’t whimper [proceeds to whimper]… only with you.”

“Pick me up. Turn us around. Press me into the wall. And fuck me.”

“Yeah we’ll see how great you think I look when I set your hair on fire.”

“Just because I usually want you to top, doesn’t mean I don’t love your ass.”

“I wanna feel every fucking inch of this monster.”

“Ugh I laid down on your cum and I’m pretty sure we’re glued together now.”

“All mine huh?”

“Huxley. Fuck me. I wanna cum with your cock buried inside me all the way to the base.”

“I’ll trade you goofballs.”

“Cute glasses.”

Honourable Mentions (Non-Canon)

“I’ve had friends before. I’ve never had a friend that I felt as close to as I do to you.”

“You feel good. Except your hair’s trying to go up my nose.”

“Fuck. God, you drive me crazy with just a touch. Just a look, honestly.”

“Now gimme.”

“If you wanna know which one I’d prefer, ask me. Directly.”

“Do you think this is what they meant when they say ‘Light a fire under your ass’?”

“Yes, I’d say my fire likes you very much.”

[lotusunique]

The Engagement pt.1

Armando Aretas x Black Fem! Reader

In which the Reader has to attend Kelly and Dorns engagement party where an ex lover will be attending

Okay so this is my first story, I hope yall enjoy it!

“Well as you’re gonna be my maid of honour, it’s customary that you spend the weekend at the beach house and you can bring a plus one of course.”,Kelly smiles brightly. “Well you know I’m there. You don’t even have to ask.”,you bring her in for a hug. You were so excited that your best friend was soon to be married especially to her soulmate.

Her big engagement party was this weekend and she wanted all her close friends to stay the weekend at she and Dorns beach house. “I just have one question. Is he gonna be there”,you ask, referring to Dorns older brother. “He will. And he’s bringing his new girlfriend”,she fidgets with her nails.

“Im sorry”,she says quickly, seeing the look on your face. “If you want I can tell Dorn to un-invite them.”, She offers. “No. That’s too much. It’s fine. It’s not a problem”,You shrug. “I’ll be there for you and Dorn. That’s it”,You put your feelings to the side.

You could only imagine how it’d feel seeing him again. The searing heart wrenching pain that you experienced during your relationship. Maybe it’d be 10 times worse. Especially since you’d be seeing him with some random bitch.

You walked towards your desk, organizing the files that you were done with, letting out a deep sigh. “What’s your problem?”,Armando asks, looking over to you with a curious expression. “Well basically nothing, just that I have to go to my best friends engagement party alone and see my ex boyfriend there the entire weekend with his new girlfriend. But besides that life is just great.”,you give a sarcastic smirk.

“So don’t go”,he says like it’s such an easy solution. “Um. No. She’s my best friend. And Dorn is like family. I have to go.”, you put your head into your hands. “I mean the solution is obvious.”, he says with a serious look on his face. You give a confused glance.

“Nadie usa su sentido común.”, he mumbles under his breath. (Nobody uses their common sense)

“¿Acabas de llamarme tonta?”, you ask. (Did you just call me dumb?)

“Yo nunca, niña bonita.”, he smirks over at you. (I’d never pretty girl). You blush, feeling your whole body heat up at hearing him. “The obvious solution is to bring somebody else as your date. Just pretend ya datin em”,he gives valid advice.

“That’s kinda smart I’m not gon lie”, you smirk. “Well I am a genius so”,he smiles over at you. “Wait!”,you say getting a bright ass idea. “If I hire somebody is that pathetic?”, you ask half kidding. He just nods with a laugh.

“Take me.”,he says fully turning to you. You let out a laugh before realizing he’s deadass serious. “Oh you’re for real?”,You ask. “I’m dead serious.”,He says. “No you don’t have to do that. I don’t wanna ask that of you. Plus it’s an all weekend type of thing..”,you say sincerely. “It’s no problem. I’ll come pick you up around seven tomorrow”,He smiles over at you.

“I’ll see you at seven then”,You smile before he walks away.

If you like it lmk, any tips, lmk. I’m open to all constructive criticism and suggestions. If yall did like it ima release the part 2 🤭

[nayatarot777]

a love letter from you to you 💓

i’d appreciate if you check out my patreon! thank you sm for taking the time to take interest in my readings ☺️💓

• pile one •

‘you’re so intelligent. so focused and direct with how you manage your life. the way that you perceive the world is clear-sighted and knowledgable. some people may say that you’re ‘too cold’ or ‘too cutthroat’ but i believe that they just don’t see the value of your mind. of your insight and the ability to curate foresight. i admire how you can always see how somethings going to work out. or how something’s going to end based on probabilities and information that you’ve collected about said thing or person. i admire how you use your voice and your mind as a weapon that others don’t want to mess with. and i love how you have a strong sense of morality that you stick to. i feel pride whenever you speak up for the sake of implementing justice. whenever you defend yourself or another. it takes a certain type of brave person to do that, and there doesn’t seem to be many around you. to stand on your own for the sake of honouring your sense of right or wrong is an extremely strong thing to do. you’re not a follower like the rest. you’re not someone who prioritises fitting into a group of people in society who most of the time don’t even like nor respect themselves. you’ll always be seen as a threat because of this, but it’s one of my favourite aspects about your personality. your mind is a unique one.’

• pile two •

‘my favourite things about you are your boundaries. it shows that you care for yourself. you respect yourself and your limits. you’re aware of what you can and can’t take and ensure to protect yourself from breaking point. you’ve had to constantly defend yourself from people who turned on you. from people who acted like they had your back. but once they showed their true face, you had no problem with putting up barriers between you and them. you don’t fuck around with yourself. i love it. as well as your determination to do whatever you feel like you need to do to protect yourself despite everyone else’s opinions that may disagree with what you do. i love how you’re your own priority. you don’t wait on anyone else to prioritise you for you. you’re your own defender. your own protector. and once you decide to slam those boundaries in place, you don’t budge from them. you’re a person of your word. you keep promises to yourself. loyalty to yourself. and i respect that.’

• pile three •

‘you’re always balancing the scales. keeping the score and making sure that both positive and negative karma comes to those who deserve either. some people think that you’re being pretentious, because they don’t know what it’s like to have a strong sense of justice. a strong understanding of what’s right and wrong to do to another human being. a lot of these people do understand - but they don’t care. i find it so funny when they miraculously start caring once they come across you though. you’re literally walking karma. you speak nothing but the truth - unbiased and fair towards people. regardless of how people get triggered by this. you’re a peacemaker at heart, and you just want to make sure that energies in your life stay in balance. you have such a balanced mind yourself. the way that you can view someone who you might not be so fond of in the most accurate way possible. no biases. if someone deserves props, you’ll give it to them - regardless of how you feel about them personally. and the same applies to when people need to be held accountable for their bullshit. you’re genuine. not controlled by your ego but in control of your ego instead. you’re too mature for a lot of people around you, but that’s not your problem. you always do what you feel is right. and in a world like this, i admire your persistence at this.’

[saintsandsorcery]

A series of letters from Gale written throughout the game (based on this post right here)

(The first one is written on a ripped out book page, his mother’s address is written on the back of it between the texts original lines) My apologies for not writing sooner. I sould have, I know that, but only now that I find myself involved in a cults business does it come to mind. I can’t say much, but, for the first time in a while, I am not alone. Love, Gale

(The name written at the top of the letter has been crossed out. It was written in a haste, some of the ink is smudged and the letters are hard to make out) Tav, You can’t possibly feel this way, so I will just assume that I got it all wrong. I know that you are just being kind, I have told you of my affliction with the orb and you try to make it better in your own way. I understand. I would love to kiss you or to simply hold your hand, but you don’t have to give me anything, what you have done for me will suffice for more than one lifetime. Gale

(The third letter features a hand drawn map of the Sword Coast with several dots and circles highlighting the most important stops on their travels at the bottom of the page. He carefully tiptoes around the more gruesome events. It is once again addressed to Morena Dekarios) …and the Druids grove of course. I am very lucky to be in such good company, otherwise I’d have been lost long before all this started. Do you remember the markets? I was seven, I think, there were screams and you just took me by the hand and ran. You explained it to me later, in simpler terms of course.I wanted to thank you for that, I keep being reminded of how different my life would have been if it all went a little different that day another day, too, but no one could have prevented that. No one but myself. Love, Gale.

(Scribbled on corner torn from a recipe) Tav is smiling like that again.

(Written on a fresh sheet of paper, only a little crumpled) Tav, I love you. There is no better way to say it and I fear the perfect moment will never come. My time is short, but it would be an honour to dedicate what is left of it to you. Gale. (This letter isn’t hidden with the others. It remains neatly folded in Tavs pocket, they take it out every once in a while and he can’t help but feel a little proud when they do - not for long though, the guilt always follows)

(His own name, except that he uses Of Waterdeep instead of Dekarios, the date he signs with predates the current one by several months) Don’t do it. You think it will guarantee you Mystras affection, I know how much you want it. But don’t do it. Please. There is so much more now, so much…

(The letter is a mess of smudged ink and crossed out sentences) … keep the tower and all within its walls, you know where I hide the key. Let Tav look an around, If they wish to do so, I’m sure they’ll love the library. If things had been different I might have introduced them to you as my partner. We would have had tea together and I had been given the chance to explain everything. And maybe we will, maybe this letter will go unsent, just like the other. I am sorry. Gale

(Tav holds them in their hands, singed, water-soaked pieces of paper. It is a wonder that the letters remained mostly intact, the one Tav has kept for themselves these past few weeks looking worst of all - not that it matters, all that is important are the words they memorised by now. Words like love. And I love you, they whisper, I still do)

[resident-gay-bitch]

🏳️‍⚧️ Trans Tuesdays 🏳️‍⚧️

3 times Eddie was shocked to find out things about his friends dating life, and 1 time he was shocked about his own. (Transfem Stevie)

“Wait, what?!” Eddie shouted, staring at Robin incredulous.

“I’m. A. Lesbian.” She repeated, clapping her hands between each word, “Do you need a dictionary definition on what that means, dingus? Because it’s not-“

“No-“ Eddie interrupted, shaking his head, hands sternly on his hips, “I know what a lesbian is, don’t worry. I just didn’t know you were one!”

“Oh… well, yeah, I am.” She shrugged, “Obviously! Whose idea did you think it was to have a Michelle Pfeiffer movie marathon?”

“Huh.” Eddie nodded, giving her a once over, “Well that clears some things up.”

“God, you’re such a dingus sometimes.” Robin snorted, scruffing up his hair, “Come on, we’re gonna be late to meet Stevie if we don’t leave now.”

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?!” Eddie said, doing a double take and charging backwards, almost stacking it down the stairs to the Wheelers basement.

“No! Nothing!” Will shouted, slapping his hand over his mouth, Mike beside him groaned.

“Nuh uh, not nothing. Don’t try to lie to me you little shits. I saw you two smooching it up.” He said, his voice a harsh whisper as he stared down at them. Or, well, attempted to since they’re almost taller than him these days. “Spill.”

“We don’t have to tell you anything.” Mike sassed.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie sassed right back, “Tell that to the three headed fire breathing dragon who has it out for you, Mighty Palladian.”

Mike groaned, “We’re not gay!”

“Well, last I checked you’re both dudes.” Eddie tutted, “So, what’s this, hmm? I’m not letting you be a little bitch and use your best friend as your experiment.”

“I’d never do that!” Mike clipped.

“Experiment?” Will asked, his face scrunched up.

“Oh, yeah, been there.” Eddie scoffed self-deprecatingly, chucking a thumb at himself, “Don’t tell anyone, but I went through half the football team.”

“Wait, you’re gay?” Mike glared at him.

“Nuh duh.” Eddie blabbered, tongue rolling out of his mouth, “I thought you little shits knew.”

“I knew.” Will shrugged.

“Why did you know?” Mike argued.

“I just knew.” Will said back.

“Hey now, little dudes, enough of that.” Eddie shook his head, “Now come on, what’s going on here? Is this some creepy weirdo exploration thing or have you gone all sweet ‘n shit on each other.”

“Don’t tell anyone, okay.” Will hissed, grabbing Mike's hand, “We’re dating.”

“He didn’t need to know that.” Mike groaned.

“Wouldn’t you rather someone know?” Will raised an eyebrow, “Someone you actually look up to and like?”

“Aww, Little Wheeler, you look up to me?” Eddie asked, a hand splayed over his heart, “I’m honoured.”

“I’m outta here.” Mike rolled his eyes, pushing past Eddie and up the stairs, “I swear if you tell anyone, I’m gonna go steal all your Dungeon Master notes-“

Eddie gasped dramatically, “You wouldn’t!”

“Watch me.” Mike rolled his eyes, accidentally letting a smile slip before he was fully turned around.

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked, choking on his sandwich, staring up at his uncle.

“I said-“

“I know what you said.” He shook his head, “I just… you are in a relationship?”

“Yes.” Wayne nodded, “I’m very happy.”

“Oh, wow.” Eddie breathed, “I did not expect this happening when I woke up this morning.”

Wayne chuckled at him, “It ain’t that crazy, son.”

“Yeah it is!” Eddie protested, “I didn’t think you even cared about relationships or nothing. You’ve always been just Wayne to me.”

“Yeah, cause you were a sad little kid that needed my full attention.” Wayne huffed, “Now, you’re an adult and I’d like a relationship.”

“Huh…” Eddie nodded, and began to eat his sandwich again, “So can I meet him?”

“You already have.”

“When?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

“His name’s Scott, and I love him very much, and we met at your middle school parent teacher interviews and have been putting off our feelings since then.”

“That long? Wayne!” Eddie groaned, “Is he like a single dad or something?”

“No, he’s your old science teacher.”

“Wait, what!”

☆ ★ ☆

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked, scrunching his face, looking at Steve on the verge of short circuiting.

“Yeah, I just can’t do this anymore, Eddie.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I like you, so much, and I just…”

“Stevie, I’m gay.” Eddie said, now looking at him with desperation, “Steve I’m so gay, I’m the gayest any dude could ever be. Holy shit, I like you too!”

“You are?” Steve said, his eyes beginning to well up a little.

“Yes!” Eddie said, jumping on the spot, “I’m so fucking gay, Stevie. Gayer than the day is long! Please go out with me.”

Steve huffed, giving Eddie a saddened smile, “I’m not a guy, though.”

“Wait… what?” Eddie asked, scrunching his nose, “What do you mean?”

“I’m transgender…” Steve said, looking at the ground, “I’m actually a woman.”

“Wait, you’re transgender?” He asked, whispering the next part to himself, “God, everythings happening this week…”

Steve nodded her head, “Yeah, I can’t… I’m sorry, Eddie, but if you’re gay-“

“I’m bisexual, actually. I’m so bisexual, please go out with me.”

“Eddie, you can’t just change your sexuality.”

“Uh, well, apparently you can, because I just did.” Eddie sassed, “I was gay, now I’m bisexual, cause I have a big ol’ crush on you, and if you’re a woman, that makes me bisexual.”

Steve glared at him.

“So, can I take you out on a date now?” He said, staring up at Steve with stars in his eyes.

“Are you being serious? This isn’t just a joke, Eddie, it’s my identity.”

“I know.” He said, deadpan, “It’s mine too. Hell, I’m finding so many things out this week, it’s crazy. So like, do I still call you Steve or…?”

“I prefer Stevie.”

Eddie grinned, “Sick. So Stevie, about that date?”

Stevie huffed, “You realise if this goes anywhere I’d be your girlfriend, not your boyfriend.”

“Holy shit, you wanna be my girlfriend?” He beamed at her, “This is so metal, can I kiss you, I wanna kiss you so bad, Stevie, please be my girlfriend right now.”

“Oh…” Stevie muttered, finally smiling, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Eddie just about fainted.

Stevie has my heart oh my fucking god I love her *Screams hysterically from the rooftops*

[pascalssbabyy]

Birthday Interruptions

Pairing: Javi Gutiarrez x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: You’re Javi’s assistant and organise a party to celebrate his birthday. However, amongst all the music and entertainment, Javi’s too focused on unwrapping his birthday present early, which of course, happens to be you.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, mdni, no use of y/n, no age mentioned, brief description of reader (she has hair that can be pulled and she also wears makeup), alcohol consumption, soft!Javi, but also slight dom!Javi, fingering, f!oral, P in V, unprotected sex, mirror sex, creampie, soft ending 🥹

I’m so excited to finally be sharing this with all of you! Javi Gutierrez has the warmest place in my heart and I had to write about him. Please let me know your thoughts and I hope you all enjoy this very smutty little drabble!

The biggest shoutout to @schnarfer for her continuous support and helping me with this! Forever grateful 💕

Javi’s been watching you all night.

And it wasn’t quick looks in your direction or subtle glances.

You’re standing in the corner of the room and the party’s already in full swing. Your eyes focus on the busy crowd, nervous palms smoothing out the creases in your dress and clutching onto your champagne flute. You slowly lift the glass up to your lips and take a sip, the mixture of fruity flavours and acidic bubbles bursting all over your tastebuds.

The sound of music and voices fills the open space. There’s a round of applause and laughter as it decorates the night sky, the clinking of bottles and the tapping of heels echoes in your ear drums, the scattering of fairy lights shining and displaying the beauty of Javi’s home.

You stay back and observe him while he weaves through the busy crowd. You breathe in heavily, smiling at the broadness of his back, his shoulders flexing and covered in a dark, forest green blazer, with his shirt unbuttoned underneath, revealing a glimpse of his sun-kissed chest. His hair was partially slicked back with gel, his beard neatly trimmed and soft curls resting on the nape of his neck.

You’re weak at the knees, unconsciously clenching your thighs together.

Lucas is standing next to you as you both delve into simple conversation. You’re trying so hard to concentrate, eyes reading and mapping out the movements of his lips to help understand the words that leave them, but you can’t. You need Javi. You have to have him, right now.

A warmth travels up your spine and the hairs on your arms stand up, the scent of vetiver and amber opening up your nostrils and filling your lungs. A large hand suddenly caresses your lower back, and you shiver.

Lucas’s eyes widen, raising his glass up in celebration. “Javi!” He says, his smile full and joyful. “Nice to finally see you, happy birthday my friend.”

“Thank you, Lucas,” Javi answers, also lifting his glass towards Lucas as they both take an honourable sip of their champagne. “Glad you could make it.”

“What, and miss this?” Lucas continues, moving his gaze over Javi’s shoulder and checking the crowd. “Place is looking great cousin, you’ve done a real good job.”

Javi chuckles, giving your hip a firm squeeze. “I wish I could say that I helped in making all of this happen but…then I’d be lying. It’s this one you should be complimenting.” Javi pulls you closer, his whole hand now wrapped around your waist and giving you a nudge, “Done all the planning and organising herself.”

Lucas raises his eyebrows and smirks at you. “She’s too good for you Javi.” He sneers, winking at you.

“She’s done an incredible job,” Javi applauds, “always working hard for me.”

Javi was never one for missing an opportunity to congratulate you on your efforts and hard work. He adored you; he knew how much of your life you put into him and his profession, and he loved showing you his appreciation.

This appreciation of course, would come in many different forms.

“You better have a birthday speech tucked away in that blazer Javi,” Lucas says, pulling you out of your daydream. “You know we’re all expecting one.”

Javi pauses, his hold on your waist dropping to the curve of your backside. “It’s funny you say that…” he says, his eyes darkening, “that’s the reason I came over here.”

He gives your ass a small squeeze.

“I do have a speech planned out, however…” He looks directly at you. “There are just parts of it I’m not too happy with. Thought I could run through my ideas with you.”

You nod with hidden urgency. “Of course Javi, that’s what I’m here for.”

A few moments later you’re both saying goodbye to Lucas and making your way towards the house, his hand gently ushering you through the crowd of people.

He stops in his tracks, lips ghosting over your ear.

“Go upstairs mi amor. I’ll be there in 5.”

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

Javi pushes the door open with a firm shove, his mouth attacking yours in a fervour and fingers threading through your hair as his strong frame leads you further into his bathroom, the back of your thighs hitting the marbled corner of his sink.

You gasp at the coldness on your fiery skin, lips parting and breaking away from his mouth. Javi is relentless, moving his kisses to your blushed cheeks and lower to your jaw and neck, sucking lightly on your skin that pulses rapidly against his lips and tongue.

Gripping onto his shoulders you throw your head back, giving him more access to you as you moan out his name and claw at his back. Your eyes flutter closed from his marking, his lips continuing to suck and teeth biting at your sweet spot.

You wish this could last the rest of the night, but Javi has people waiting for him, and soon, his guests will be wondering where he’d gone to. His absence away will lead to suspicion, and suspicion could lead with you both getting caught. It hurts, but this has to be quick, so with palms flat on his chest you force him away, fumbling with his belt buckle and frantic fingers yanking at his belt loops, his blown-out pupils watching you intensely.

“Javi.” You warn, “baby we have to be—”

“Quick,” He softly interrupts, “I know cariño, I know.”

Freeing his belt you pull down his zipper, your hand palming his growing cock over his boxers, feeling the hardening shape of him in your small hold.

“See what you do to me.” Javi murmurs, his lips skimming across your shoulder, “Can you feel how hard you make me. Bebé, you have no idea how badly I want you.”

Javi wraps his arms around your back, pressing his erection into your stomach and groaning at the relief it gives him. He’s so close, your body trapped between his grasp and the sink behind you.

“You’re so beautiful…” Javi says, his eyes raking over the top of your dress, the material tight against your breasts, hips and waist. “You look stunning in this dress querida.”

“It’s for you Javi. I wore it tonight, for you.”

He likes that. “Is that right?” He drags his eyes over your dress again and up to your lips. “You wore this dress for me? Is this my little birthday treat?”

Your heart quickens, and all you can do is stand there, motionless, staring at his mouth, licking your own in anticipation.

Javi smirks at you, cocking his eyebrows, his index finger follows the strap of your dress.

“Mmm, as much as I love this on you…” He murmurs, sliding the strap off your shoulder, the top of your breasts peeking out of the sweetheart neckline.

“I think it’ll be much prettier if I wasn’t on you at all. Don’t you think?”

You shudder.

He stares at you in wonder, his touch showing more of your bare and delicate skin. “You gonna be good and let me unwrap my birthday present?”

Yes. Fuck, please take it off.

Javi’s hands move to your half-covered breasts, squeezing them, swiping and pinching his digits over your nipples as they harden under his touch. He tugs at the thin strap that still rests on your shoulder, staring at your collarbone.

The material brushes lightly over your breasts and waist until it pools around your feet, kicking the fabric to the side with your heel.

“Fuck, look at you,” he gazes, taking all of you in, “and no bra too. You’re just begging for it, aren’t you hermosa.”

You’re already throbbing, body now completely bare except for the black thong that covers your sex. There’s a rush twisting in the pit of your core from the way you’re standing so exposed like this, so naked in front of him when he’s still fully clothed.

It excites you.

Reaching up to his blazer you remove it quickly, hungry eyes gaping at the spread of his chest and arms. You rub your thighs together, arousal seeping over your underwear and through the material, the fabric wrecked and sticking to your puffy folds and swollen clit.

You want him. You need him, now.

Javi’s hand follows the curve of your hips and inches closer to your anticipating sensitivity. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your thong, wetting the tip of his digits with your juices.

You clutch onto his shirt, eyes widening and squealing at the sensation, moans leaving your mouth in erratic sobs of pleasure. Javi opens you up with two fingers and slips one past your entrance. Fuck you’re completely soaked for him, the squelching sound of your arousal filling the room as he curls his finger upwards and adds a second finger, moving them in a slow and almost painful rhythm.

“Always so wet bebé. I’ll never get enough of how messy this pussy gets for me.”

“Please, Javi.”

His eyes close, getting lost in the warmth and slickness of your walls hugging his fingers. “Cariño, I know I said we were gonna be quick but I need to savour this. I have to taste you.”

Javi’s on his knees before you can acknowledge his words, his fingers moving your thong to the side and mouth delving into your folds, his tongue and lips sucking on your clit.

He grunts into your pussy and inhales your scent, the tip of his tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves as he keeps your legs spread apart, your hands knotting and messing his hair as you rub your cunt on his face.

“You have the prettiest pussy,” You hear him say, his words muffled, “so sensitive bebé.”

He licks at your arousal that seeps out of you, collecting it all on his tongue, the tip of his fingers fucking you and stroking your g-spot.

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper, eyes moving towards the bathroom door. “I don’t wanna wait—I need more. W-want you to fuck me. Give me your cock, please.”

He removes his lips from you with a final suck on your clit, rising back onto his feet and lowering his trousers and boxers in a fast and hasty motion. His cock bounces up to his stomach, his length throbbing, his head red and responsive and his slit weeping.

“Tasted so good cariño,” He breathes, his lips and moustache wet and glossy with your arousal. “You want me to fuck you now? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes please.” You whimper, turning your body around and bracing your hands on the counter, opening your legs wider and bending your back, moving your ass closer to his cock. Your eyes watch his every move in the mirror.

He drags your panties down your legs before the tip of his cock notches at your entrance, rubbing his whole length along your pussy and covering himself with your sweetness.

“You know I love hearing those noises you make for me.” He coos, eyeing you in the reflection, “But I need you to be good and stay quiet. Think you can do that? Think you can behave when I fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“Y-yes Javi.” You choke out. “Please. Give it to me, I can be quiet, I’ll be so good—”

Your voice cuts off as Javi fills you in one deep thrust, his groin making contact with the curve of your ass. You gasp out in shock and surprise, eyes rolling back at the burning sting trickling down your skin.

“That’s it.” He praises, swirling his hips as his tip reaches deeper, “Feel me. Feel how much my cock fills this small cunt.”

Your breathing is quick, your walls pulsing around his length as you try to adjust to his large size.

“Fuck you’re tight,” Javi grits, fingers digging into your hips. “How am I supposed to last when you feel like this. You’re choking me baby.”

“Relax for me.”

He slowly pulls his length out when he feels your walls loosen around him, starting at a hurried pace and driving back into you hard.

It’s overwhelming. Your weight falls onto your elbows, the power of Javi’s movements causing tears to prick on your lash line, that coil in your stomach building up and spewing over.

“Taking me so well querida,” He purrs, “doing so good for me.”

Skin slaps against skin, hands gripping onto the marble counter as you lose yourself in him, your mind completely fogged and vision blurred by bliss.

Javi hauls you up and presses his chest against your back, holding onto your jaw with a firm grasp, directing your gaze so you’re watching yourself in the mirror.

“Look—“ Javi grunts. “Open your eyes and watch yourself hermosa. This cock fucks you good, don’t it. Can’t even speak she’s so fucked out. Shit—tell me how good I’m making you feel.“

“S-so good Javi. Feels so good.”

You fix your stare on the reflection in the mirror, your cheeks crimson and make-up smudged, your skin hot and hair knotty, Javi’s body continuing to move quickly and steady behind you.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful. Keep your eyes on me and watch how I fuck you. Wanna watch you come apart on my cock.”

Javi focuses on where you’re connected, his mouths agape as he groans out, watching his cock plunge into your spent cunt, his dick saturated and glistening, your juices running down his thighs and wetting the coarse hairs.

“Christ it just keeps coming bebé,” He chuckles breathlessly, “Shit you’re so wet, fucking perfecta.”

Javi lifts up your leg and rests your knee on the edge of the counter, his cock delving even further inside your walls.

“Fuck—Javi!” You shout, hand outstretched and holding onto the back of his neck.

He bites your earlobe and you can feel his smile on your skin. “So much for being quiet mi amor. You gonna let everyone know who’s fucking you this good? You gonna scream it out of everyone to hear?”

You suck on your bottom lip, mumbling your whines and moans as they threaten to pour over.

He touches you everywhere. His hands kneading and circling your hard nipples, his tongue licking your salty skin, fingers threading through your hair and yanking it into a makeshift ponytail.

“That’s it princesa,” Javi praises. “I can feel you’re close, sucking me so tight. You gonna come for me?“

“Yes…,” You cry out, “M’so close Javi. P-please don’t stop.”

“Never bebé. Never going another day without seeing you like this. Go on, show me how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me.”

Javi’s holds you steady when he knows your body’s about to shake and fall, his strong arms wrapping around and fingers lowering to toy with your clit and glide his digits through your slick folds.

“Oh fuck…Javi—”

Your climax hits you without any warning, body trembling and legs weak. Javi’s voice is warm and soft, coaxing you through your orgasm. You watch him in the reflection as you release more of yourself all over his length, coming with a silent cry and gushing on him with more of your juices.

“What did I do to deserve you,” Javi murmurs. “Shit, you feel heavenly.”

Javi’s temples drip with sweat, his curls falling onto the dampened skin of his forehead. His eyebrows furrow and his nose crinkles in concentration, his thrusts becoming sloppy, your walls pulling him closer to his own release.

“Buena niña. Fuck, I’m gonna come.“

“Inside,” You whisper, “Come inside me Javi.”

With one last shove of his cock, Javi’s hips still as he spills himself inside you, his thighs quivering and painting your walls with his hot come.

He chants your name, his body going limp and collapsing on you, his voice wavering and fanning across the back of your neck.

Javi stays nestled inside you, lips kissing your shoulder blade, his hot breath fanning across your skin and hands rubbing up and down your arms.

He winces when he pulls himself out of you, his come leaking out and dripping down your thighs.

He licks the inside of your mouth when you turn around to face him, gasping out at the feel of his fingers inching between your legs, collecting his come on his fingers and pushing it back inside you.

“Come on,” He sighs, “let’s clean ourselves up.”

You both freshen up and get redressed, fixing your make-up and the mascara that’s smudged under your eyes. The clanking of a belt buckle is heard behind you as you thread your fingers through your hair, removing the tangles from Javi’s tenacious grip.

You haven’t looked at Javi, and when your head perks up towards him, he’s already staring at you, his eyes wide and smile gentle.

“Fuck you’re gonna be trouble for me hermosa. You expect me to go back down after that?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring his words, but you can’t help the smile that appears on your face. “Did you really have a speech planned? Or was that an excuse to get us away from everyone?”

“I do have a speech planned,” he laughs, moving towards you and placing a kiss on the side of your cheek, staring back at you in the mirror. “I just really needed to have you to myself, just for a little while.”

You hum. “Well it definitely worked.”

“I knew it would,” he teases, flashing you the most joyful smile. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you.”

Slicking back the curls at the front of his face you kiss his lips one last time.

“Never. Happy Birthday Javi.”

[whyse7vn]

LOVE OCTAGON? -

[ ot7 x reader ]

YOUNG FOREVER

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

hobi: just did 8 push ups i’ll smack the shit out of anybody rn

jin: if you were a girl i’d be into that

jk: pls don’t hit me

tae: thought he liked men

jimin: could of fooled me

jin: ??????

namjoon: glad to see ur working out again hobi

hobi: what’s that supposed to mean??

namjoon: i’m glad to see you working out again?

y/n: can i watch?

jk: i want you so bad omg

y/n: ??

jk: sorry i was hacked

yoongi: did one of you order food to my house?

jk: no i wasn’t

tae: MY BURGER IS AT YOUR HOUSE???

OH MY GOD I THOUGH I WAS SCAMMED I WAS SO UPSET

jimin: eat it yoongi

tae: DON’T

pls 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

send it back to me pls i’m begging

i’m literally starving

and shaking

jin: i think you should give it back to him yoongi could be his first meal in months

hobi: real

yoongi: threw it away

tae: WHAT IS UR ISSUE??????

yoongi: you

hobi: namjoon do you want to fight?

jk: do you want me back?

jimin: shut up

tae: don’t expect to hear from me ever again bitch

yoongi: oh nooooo

namjoon: fight??

y/n: can i watch?

jin: this is stressing me out

someone give me a fun fact to calm me down

namjoon: um

hobi: xikers are the first 5th gen group

tae: that sounds like a disease

jimin: thought we would never hear from you again

yoongi: good things never last

jin: 5TH GEN??????

ARE YOU SILLY

THATS A THING??

THAT FACT DID NOT CALM ME DOWN AT ALL

jimin: ofc tae’s talking about diseases again

tae: am i wrong tho??

like

omg i got xikers rn

i’m itching soooo badddfd

pls i need to go to hospital the xikers on my back are killing me

namjoon: stop talking

tae: i’m not wrong

jk: are you ok tae?

what is xikers

it sounds bad

tae: i’m dying

pls remember me

jk: WHAT 😨

i will bro 🥺

y/n: he’s lying to you

jk: i’m not i swear i’ll remember you forever and ever

y/n: tae is lying to YOU

stupid

jk: oh

wtf man :/

tae: you never let me have fun

hobi: i want to be 5th gen

jk: but we said we were 4th gen??

namjoon: we are 3rd gen.

yoongi: let’s not do this again

tae: ME FOR 5TH GEN IT BOY

jimin: jimin 5th gen ace

jin: although i’m in shock and disbelief rn i’ll still take on the role of 5th gen it boy

tae: ?????

tf is wrong with you

can you read

i said i’m 5th gen it boy?

let’s vote

come on guys 🤗

yoongi: i vote jin

y/n: jin

jk: ME 3

jimin: ig jin

hobi: jin4thewin

namjoon: jin?

jin: i also vote for jin

tae: burn in hell

jk: y/n 5th gen it girl?

y/n: but i was 4th gen it girl last time

jk: ur right let’s swap

y/n: best 5th gen rapper

it’s an honour really

jk: i will use my 5th gen it girl title to help better the world

hobi: 5th GEN VISUAL HOSEOK

yoongi can take the best 5th gen singer title

yoongi: k

y/n: namjoon best 5th gen dancer?

jk: i agree

namjoon: ??

jin: idk about you but i love my new title

tae: i bet you do

jin: you sound mad

namjoon: again?

tae: i’m not

namjoon: you can take mine if you really want

i don’t care for you guy’s silly little game

jk: THIS IS NO GAME JOON

THIS IS OUR REAL LIFE

hobi: RIGHT

tae: KEEP UR NASTY TITLE I DONT WANT UR PITY FUCK YOU FUVK YOU FUCK YOU

jin: yikes

yoongi: all this shouting for what?

y/n: wow

namjoon: fine

jimin: why did jungkook go live naked

y/n: proof lmao?

jin: right put me off my salad fr

jimin: you were eating a salad?

jin: yeah?

jimin: ok

jin: tf you mean ok???

do you want to fight?

jimin: i’m just surprised that’s all

jin: why??????

jimin: cuz yk…

jin: no i DON’T know

pls enlighten me bitch

jk: i wasn’t naked??

jimin: yes you were

jin: HELLO???

YK WHAT?

jk: i swear i wasn’t

y/n: proof???????

jk: you want to see me naked 🤭??

i’m blushing rn

tae: i was naked once

hobi: this isn’t about you

y/n: tae sent me nudes by email once

hobi: ok this is about you

jk: WHAT????)/£/

jin: by email?

tae: omg why would you tell themmmm

jimin: why would you ever want nudes from that?

tae: that????

y/n: i never asked for them

who do you think i am??

tae: what does that mean??

namjoon: you can literally get arrested for that

tae: kinky

but i did send them on accident

so i’m sure the police would understand

jin: i do not believe that at all

and by email??

how is that an accident

yoongi: right

tae: plus i did look super hot right y/n?

y/n: that not the point

tae: see how she didn’t say no

jk: SAY NO

hobi: send the nudes here i say!

jin: DO NOT

jk: say no before i shoot myself in the head

jimin: wow

namjoon: it doesn’t matter if she thought you looked good or not you can’t go round sending ur nudes to people with without warning

tae: says who?

namjoon: the fucking law?

are you okay?? like that’s common sense

wtf is wrong with you

hobi: joons getting mad oh my god >.<

yoongi: thought we established he has no common sense

tae: i knew telepathically that she needed to receive nudes from me in order to keep living

jin: so you didn’t send them by accident then

tae: accident on purpose it’s all the same thing tbh

y/n: to keep living??

jimin: they are polar opposites actually

tae: omg all of u on my dick rn

don’t be mad i stepped up and you didn’t

jk: i was goONA STEP UP

ITVWAS SUPPOSED TO BE ME

I HATE YOU

IM GOING TO KILL YOU

hobi: jk’s mad this is scary >.<

jin: witnessing the fall the taekook in real time

wow this is truly beautiful

tae: omg chill out??

it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before

jimin: and is that by choice?

jk: I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU

hobi: wait what?

namjoon: everyone shut the fuck up

jin: look now you made joon fr mad

hobi: sorry namjoon >.<

tae: it wasn’t even my fault

y/n: i’m the victim here don’t be mad at me

jk: DO SOMETHING ABOUT HIM JOON

yoongi: i’m tired

jimin: this is a lot to take in

namjoon: taehyung apologise

tae: FOR WHAT?????????

hobi: ur sick in the head

namjoon: now

tae: sorry??????

jk: nasty bitch

tae: y/n let’s tell them about us

jk: what

yoongi: 🤨

y/n: us?

tae: ummmmmmm lol?

she’s normally not like this i swear

she likes me honestly

stop embarrassing in front of the guys babe

y/n: blocking you

tae: are u using me for my body???

i sent you nudes TWICE

hobi: one in a million we are twice 🩷💖

tae: you said i was hot

are we not in love?

yoongi: lol

jk: YOU SENT HER NUDES TWICE???????

OH MY GODDDDSJEJ SOMEONE PLs PULL THE TRIGGER FOR ME IM TOO WEAK TO DO THIS ANYMOREEEENBE

jimin: so like did she ask for the nudes the first time?

y/n: SHUT UP???

jimin: OH MY GODFF YIU TOTALY DID

THE PLOT THICKENS

y/n: namjoon tell them to stop taking

namjoon: stop talking

hobi: wait…

is this the fwb you’ve been talking about for weeks

tae: STOP SPEAKING

jin: wooow ur really sad

jk: OhH MY GODDDD ANd I CONGRATULATED YOU SND EVERYTHING OH MY GODDDHDXUD KILL MEMEME KILL MEMEEEE

y/n: fwb?

we have not fucked

jk: oh thajnk god

yoongi: have you kissed?

hobi: yoongi’s jealous >.<

yoongi: just asking

tae: i don’t want to talk about this anymore

jimin: look he’s embarrassed

they totally have not kissed

tae: bottom lie is that she said i was hot

jk: SHE WANTEF TO SEE ME NAKED BEFORE SO UR NOT SPECIAL

DONT LET IT GET TO UR HEAD

BITCH

namjoon: calm down jungkook

jk: HES A LITTLE SNAKE I WILL NOT CALM DOWN NEVER EVER EVER

I LIKED HER FIRST

yoongi: no you didn’t?

jin: is this a love triangle?

hobi: classic case of a love square

jimin: love square?

y/n: no one is in love

tae: my life is over

y/n: get a grip

jimin: i’m feeling left out put me in the square

hobi: it wouldn’t be a square then

jimin: love pentagon?

jin: make it a hexagon

hobi: wait wtf and me

love heptagon so cute 💞

what about you namjoon?

namjoon: what about me?

jimin: do you want to fuck y/n yes or no?

y/n: oh my god????

jk: YOU BETTER SAY NO

SAY NO

ILL KILL YOU

namjoon: i’m not answering that

jk: GOOD

WAIT WTF ARE YOU TRYING TI SAY YOU DON’T THINK SHES HOT???

WTF IS WRONG WITH yOU???

SHE IS NOT UGLY

namjoon: i never said that

jimin: i’m taking that as a yes

hobi: love octagon 🩷

y/n: what happened to talking about our 5th gen life 🙁

jk: i love 5th gen

hobi: what is with the gc name?

jimin: it’s for jin’s mental health

jin: ur actually decreasing my mental health by taking about 5th gen

jimin: are newjeans 5th gen?

jin: okay so just fuck me then?

yoongi: idk

hobi: I LOVE NEWJEANS

oHUr my OHUR MY GODTT

jin: i don’t listen minors sing

it’s bad for the economy

jimin: just say they make you feel old as shit

jk: i don’t listen to other women sing

y/n: ???

jk: i mean i love when other women sing

i actually only listen to girl groups

tae: he’s lying

because that’s actually me

y/n: shut the fuck up both of you

yoongi: real

y/n: and you

yoongi: ??????????????????????

jimin: LMAO

HE DIDN’T EXPECT THAT

jin: GOTTT HIKMMMMM LMAOSOSOSOIDKEKEKDKDKDK

hobi: i love feminism ❤️

y/n: it’s nice not arguing

namjoon: i’ve been telling you all

jimin: true!!!

hobi: you argue the most

jimin: me???

hobi: yes you

you and jin literally argued 10 seconds ago

jin: don’t put us in the same sentence like that i’m getting uncomfortable

namjoon: the fact that they actually shut the fuck up

what have i been doing wrong

jimin: maybe cuz you don’t have a pussy idk

namjoon: did you have to be so vulgar?

y/n: vulgar?

what are you 65??

hobi: pussy is power

NOT vulgar

jin: vulgar is such a nasty word like ew vulgar

namjoon: i’m leaving

jin: praise god

namjoon left “young forever”

tae: i love pussy btw

jimin left “young forever”

hobi left “young forever”

y/n left “young forever”

yoongi left “young forever”

jk: personally i think you’re so brave for saying that

—

and taekook lived!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Office Space 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life. 

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Well, it has been a day, has it not?” Pine frightens you as he emerges. You pop your head up, your vision squiggly with the imprint of a spreadsheet. 

“Sir,” you straighten up to see him past the monitor. 

“Hmm, and when do you let out, darling? Surely Nicolas wouldn’t have you pent up on a Saturday such as this?” He makes a show of checking his watch. You give a sheepish smile and run your thumb along the space bar. 

“Soon.” 

“I’m sure.” His tone is unimpressed. “I did say I owed you for the tea.” 

“Oh, that’s--” 

“I do like to follow through and I must admit, aside from our mutual acquaintance, I am not very familiar with this city. I would not complain for company.” He twists on his heel and struts to Fowler’s office door. The knock has you strangled in the fraught silence that follows. 

Pine sighs and leans on the door frame. He clucks impatiently and raises his hand again. You sink down to hide behind the screen. 

“Jonathan,” Fowler greets. 

“Hello, I was just packing up for the day and I noticed your lovely assistant is still hard at work.” Pine intones 

“How observant,” Fowler snorts. 

“Well, I think she’s due for her release and since I’ve promised her recompense--” 

“Recompense?” 

“Ah, yes, she has been a gracious host. You may learn a thing or two.” Pine’s chuckle sets you on edge. Even behind the shield of the computer you feel your boss’ roiling irritation. 

“I forgot about you sort and your pints.” Fowler spits the last word. 

“If she is so inclined, a pint is in order, but she does seem to be more of a sophisticated type, though perhaps not so much as you and your vintages, eh?” 

Fowler huffs. “I thought you came for work.” 

“What is work without fun? Let the poor thing go. On my honour, I’ll keep it on the up and up,” Pine insists. 

Silence. “Elf, didn’t I promise you a work dinner? For all your hard work, of course?” 

You’re happy neither of them can see the surprise rippled in your forehead. You wipe it away quickly and peek up above the monitor frame. You force a smile. Fowler’s icy blue eyes chill you to the bone as Pine turns with a coy crook of his brow. 

“I think... yes. Um, but, er...” 

“Least I can do,” Fowler smirks. “I’d hate to be rude. You don’t mind if my colleague joins us? He is new in town and all?” He looks at Pine who returns his challenging glint. For a moment, they stare at one another. 

“I should hate to presume...” Pine says. 

“It’s okay,” you say a bit to quickly for your brain to process. You bite down on a cringe and clear your throat, “but if you’d rather catch up, we can do it another time.” 

“Sounds like a plan. My treat.” Fowler insists with a defiant tilt of his chin. 

“Right, okay.” You sit back as he retreats into his office and Pine hums. You click around on your screen as you try to figure out what just happened. You’d rather just go home but it would be rude to say so. 

As you double-check the autosave, Pine’s shadow comes to loom from the other side of the desk. You glance up with a sheepish smile as you sign-out and push your chair back. You bend to grab your purse from under the desk. 

“Your boss has ever been a rather stormy man, hm? Though you’d have laughed to see him on my side of the pond. He mightn’t admit it but he was rather fond of a pint or two. Perhaps a bit too fond. It may just be the reason for his recent aversion.” Pine laughs and you do your best to humour him. 

“I don’t really drink beer. Makes me feel bloated but I have some drinks now and again. Last night, I had some with a few friends. Nothing wild but it was nice.” 

“And he made you come in today?” He tuts. “How cruel. Well, never worry, I shall endeavour to make our own working relationship less than burdensome.” 

“It’s work. Really.”  

You leave him to turn off the printer room lights and as you come back, he leans on your desk. He watches you with his soft blue eyes. “Old friends?” 

“Some of them. We... we work in the same field.” 

“PI work?” He wonders. 

“Oh, no. We—we’re all personal assistants or secretaries or whatever. Couple of us met in college, others at work, a few randomly. Guess we just ended up together.” You come around the desk and seal your lips against a yawn that flutters your lashes. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Fowler snaps his office door behind him as he marches out. “Remember that steakhouse I mentioned, Elf?” 

Nope. You don’t think he’s ever talked about a steakhouse or anything fun with you. If you didn’t bring him most of his meals, you might think he doesn’t eat at all. He is inhuman enough that he might subsist on resent alone. 

“Uh, I think so,” you lie. 

“You’ll like it. Wagyu is their seasonal special.” He surpasses Pine and ushers you to the door. As he opens it ahead of you, you hesitate. It’s strange. He’s being... nice? You step outside and Pine trails, thanking Fowler as he does. 

“Wagyu?” Pine puts his hand to your lower back as he turns you down the sidewalk. “I’m more inclined to a nice filet or beef wellington.” 

“This way,” Fowler catches your arm and pulls you around. Pine scuffs and turns back to follow once more. “It’s close. Don’t even need to drive.” 

“Mm, ever the man with all the secrets, eh?” Pine comes up on your other side.  

Fowler keeps his grip on your arm. He seems to recall himself and unclamps his fingers, only to hook his arm through yours. You let him as you walk stiffly down the street. What the heck is going on? 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Fowler tosses back. He is met with another airy chuckle from the taller man. 

“So long as they have good drinks, eh, Elfie? It might be a good place for girls’ night,” Pine brushes your shoulder gently. 

Fowler looks over, a terse slant in his jaw, then sets his sights straight. “I don’t know, the vintage might be a bit too much for an Englishman’s taste.” 

[wlw-imagines]

A Hunter By Trade - Ruby Lucas/Reader (Once Upon a Time)

prompt: "Could I request a Ruby(from OUAT) x reader one shot where R is a werewolf hunter and doesn't know Ruby is a werewolf and when R finds out Ruby is terrified that she'll leave her or kill her but instead the reader quits being a hunter and becomes a cop with Emma and David? Some fluff in the end?" - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing 

Having just finished your shift in the forest, hunting under Mr Gold's insistence, you were happy to finally be off work for another month and back with your girlfriend at Granny's Diner. Ruby's long hours of working there often meant you're schedules of night shifts and hers of day shifts would clash but for the next month you were free to spend time with her,

"Morning Y/N." Emma gave you a small wave as you walked into the Diner like you did every morning after work.

You sent Emma and Henry a tired smile, "Morning you two. Hot chocolate and waffles before school, Henry?" You asked the young boy who smiled cheekily and nodded, stuffing a forkful of his breakfast into his mouth.

You were going to stop for a chat before you realised you still had your hunting weapons on you and you should probably get rid of them. Your knife still strapped to your thigh and your silver gun still in its holster at your hip. Emma seemed to notice at the same time and was about to speak but was fortunately cut off by your girlfriend.

"Y/N! Good morning, how was work?" Ruby asked, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

In an attempt to make your working life sound normal you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Quiet", which wasn't too far from the truth. You had never actually told Ruby exactly what your job entailed. All she really knew was that you had to work night shifts. However, she seemed content enough with your answer and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

Smiling, you pulled her close to you. You missed her when you were out working, you enjoyed the warmth and comfort just being in her arms caused you. Then that little moment was ruined by Emma inevitably speaking up.

"Need a gun for work, Y/N?" You turned to see her raising an eyebrow, looking at you intensely over her own steaming drink.

You rolled your eyes, "It's perfectly legal Swan." Justifying your actions as you sensed her legal conscience was starting to make an appearance.

Ruby's grip on you slowly loosened and you noticed her frown slightly, "You have a gun? How didn't I know you have a gun?"

"It's nothing Ruby. It was my mother's before she died," You smiled softly but Ruby still seemed unconvinced, "Mr Gold kindly made sure I got it a couple of weeks ago. Just before the spell broke."

Ruby shifted slightly, looking more uneasy by the minute, "But what's it for? Why do you even need it?" She protested.

"Originally it was just in memory of my mother but then Gold needed a favour so I thought I'd help him out and so more recently I've just been using it to keep the town safe, I guess. That's all he asked me to do. It's kind of in my blood to do it." You smiled proudly, now knowing that your mother and your mother's mother had both been Hunter's and now, in your own little way, you were honouring that.

"Keeping the town safe, isn't that my job?" Emma now joined in the inquisition, making your head spin slightly, "And you’re doing work for Gold?"

"Just as a favour, I patrol the woods at night, but I-" You stopped and took a deep breath, deciding that if they could just see how harmless your gun truly was then they'd give you a break. "I've never shot a person with it." You said, meekly as you carefully placed the gun down on the table.

"A silver gun?" You heard Ruby ask in an unusually quiet voice.

You were about to respond when Henry's cutlery clattered onto his plate, "You hunt werewolves? You're a Hunter? How didn't I see this before?" He asked incredulously, putting two and two together. "But-" He looked at Ruby but before he could continue you interrupted him in order to defend yourself.

"Woah, kid, no one said anything about werewolves." You shook your head, whilst having found out recently that that was in your blood, there were things that you couldn't bring yourself to do. Killing another human, in any form, was one of them. "I’d never- Look, Gold hired me to make sure that the wolves- that any animals don't create havoc or ruin his land o-or affect farmland." You clicked your gun back into its holster as it clearly wasn't being any use in calming anyone down. In fact, you were just getting more and more flustered as more questions were fired at you.

"Sure, that's what he told you." Henry got increasingly agitated, "You know you shouldn't kill anything. Don't you know who Ruby-" Emma quickly stood up and spoke over Henry.

"Okay, okay, enough chit-chat. Henry, let's get you to school." She gave him a look and left enough money to cover the food and drink on the table.

"But-"

"Henry, now." She clicked her fingers and Henry sighed in defeat before picking his bag up. He gave Ruby an apologetic look and just looked at you, contemplating what to say as he walked past. Whatever it was got interrupted by his mother as she practically pulled him out of the now empty Diner, "Faster, Henry."

You watched them leave in confusion before turning to Ruby, "Babe, I-"

"I don't want to talk right now." She turned away from you, clearing Emma and Henry's table. You frowned and reached out to your girlfriend's side, pulling her gently to you. She swatted you away and you swore she almost let out a small growl, "Y/N, just leave me alone!"

You shook your head, "I don't understand, I practically do the same job as Emma but just with animals rather than people. I found something I'm actually good at Ruby! Why can't you be happy for me, I-"

"Was your Mother a werewolf hunter? Back in the Enchanted Forest. Was she a Hunter?" She interrupted you, her voice increasing in volume before she slammed the plates down behind the counter. "Did she hunt animals?"

You hesitated before finally nodding, "Yes." You admitted and Ruby scoffed.

"So it's 'in your blood' to kill animals, is it? To kill-"

"No! I mean... yeah. But-"

"Then why do you need a gun, a silver gun? With silver bullets? Used to kill werewolves. Why do you need weapons if you don't kill?"

"Okay, well, on the odd occasion, I've had to-"

"Great!" She let out a loud sarcastic laugh and shook her head.

"But only when it's really necessary. And I told you I don't kill people! Okay? Whatever form they're in, I will not kill a person, okay? I'm not my mother, Ruby-"

She shook her head and clenched her teeth, "It turns out there is still a lot I don't know about you Y/N." She whispered, looking you dead in the eye as she spoke.

"No, that's not fair. There are things about you that I don't know too. There are still things about everyone I thought I knew that I don't know because of this stupid curse but we're working it out!" You reasoned, willing yourself not to think the worse about this situation. There was a horrible silence as you waited for her to say something. Anything. And when she finally did, it wasn't what you had expected at all.

"I don't think I feel safe around you, Y/N." She backed away from you ever so slightly and refused to look you in the eye. For the first time you've known Ruby, she genuinely looked frightened. Of you.

Your stomach dropped at her confession and you shut your eyes for a few moments and took a second to breath. "If this is about the gun then I only have it to protect you, Ruby. It's to protect everyone. I love you. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to protect you."

"From what?"

You clenched your fists and slammed a hand on the counter, tired from repeating the same thing. If Ruby had been wanting your answer to change each time to something she would rather hear then she was out of luck, "From rabid animals." You cried out, getting angry at such a stupid fight over such a tiny thing.

"What? Animals like me, you mean?" She asked, contrasting your loud anger with a quiet fear. Whilst her eyes looked terrified she attempted to make herself look brave and confrontational by jutting her chin up slightly and staring you down but you knew her too well.

The anger inside of you quickly dissipated and you slowly approached her, treating her like one would a spooked horse or a trapped rabbit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Y-You said that there were things you don't know about me and that's true." You watched as she began to crumble, her eyes starting to become tearful. "I'm a werewolf. Your kind hunt me and my kind." She finally croaked out.

You both stood and stared at each other over the counter for a few minutes, not quite knowing what to do. There was a part of you that couldn't believe you didn't know, that she hadn't told you. A whole other part started to recognise the little signs that you had slowly picked up on but stubbornly ignored.

The tiny bell at the top of the door to Granny's rung, knocking you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Now that the diner was no longer empty you couldn't stay there any longer. You need an explanation but it couldn't be done there and besides, there was something more important you had to do first, "I have to go." You finally spoke up, not quite daring to look into Ruby's tear soaked eyes and instead keeping your head down and walking out the door.

Driving around for hours to clear your head eventually led you to the Sheriff's department, knowing Emma would be there by now. You ran in, throwing your gun on the table and crossing your arms as you stared down at the blonde woman. "How long did you know who my girlfriend was?"

Emma sighed and grimaced slightly, "She told you?"

"Mhmm." You flopped down in the chair opposite Emma and started chewing your lip. There was a long pause between the two of you, seeing as you were completely absorbed with your own thoughts.

Emma took a deep breath, eventually choosing to cut off the silence, "What are you going to do?" You shook your head slightly.

"I was born to be a Hunter, Emma." You noticed her raise an eyebrow slightly and so you hastened to add, "But I love Ruby. So much." You'd never do anything to hurt her, that much you knew.

"You're going to return the gun to Gold?"

"No." You shrugged, "I'll lock it up someone safe, I suppose. So no one can make use of it."

Emma put her hand on your shoulder and smiled fondly, "You made the right decision."

You sat in silence for a bit, Emma leafing through some paperwork as you tried to get your brain to absorb everything that had happened in the last few hours, "I won't miss the long nights, that's for sure." You eventually said, only just realising you were technically now out of a job. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks Em, for helping me figure out what's right."

Just before you made your way out of the door, Emma stopped you in your tracks by shouting after you, "Hey, Y/N, if you need a job we might just have an opening here for you. Can't guarantee you'll never work a night shift again, but you can keep on protecting Ruby and the town. You can just do it a bit more legally." You slowly turned back to your friend and smiled, shooting her a quick nod.

"You're on, Swan."

----------------------

It was gone noon once you were finished at the police station and you knew Ruby would have finished her shift by now so you swung by your shared apartment, hoping that she would be there.

You were torn between knocking and just walking straight in but ultimately chose the latter option, scared that if you were to knock then she wouldn't answer to you.

"Ruby?"

"I don't want to talk to you." A voice drifted from your left. You hesitantly licked your lips and followed her voice.

"Ruby-" You turned the corner to see her curled up on the sofa beneath a heavy red blanket.

She shook her head and you knew well enough to stop talking. "I just... I cannot believe you'd do this! That you would do something so stupid and so--" 

"I quit." You shrugged and took a step closer to your girlfriend.

"What?" She asked, head turning to the side slightly. You clenched your jaw at the pain you had caused within her.

You paused, formulating what you wanted to say before plunging into it. "I'm not a hunter anymore. I quit. I want nothing but to keep you safe and if you don't feel that way with me then I'll change."

Ruby stood up and shook her head, "I don't understand."

"I'd do anything for you. I love you." You finally wrapped your arms around Ruby's waist and pulled her into you, hovering your lips close to hers, "I'm sorry."

The smile on her face grew as she gazed into your eyes and her hands hovered over your hips. She begun to place a trail of kisses from your jaw down your neck. Ready to take it further, you pushed her slightly towards the sofa and tugged slightly at her red shorts. However, before you had the chance, Ruby pulled away and took a deep breath.

"What?" You asked, fearing you had done something wrong.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked, and you could still sense a dash of emotion reappearing from earlier. You pushed to do anything to clear her doubt about you.

You hooked your fingers in the belt loop holes of her shorts and winked, "What do you think about me in uniform?"

Ruby bit her lip and smirked, pushing you down on the sofa, "I think I could get used to the idea."

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 19

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

I no longer heard Roger’s footsteps and was left all alone.

(...Roger’s been taken away…What do I do after this…)

(First,  I need to figure out what actually happened— )

Amongst the scattered thoughts in my head, Victor’s face popped into mind.

(Maybe Victor—)

As I rushed down the hall, I saw someone leaning against the wall…

Nica: Guten Tag (Good day), Robin. Ahaha, that’s a dreadful look you have there.

Kate: …Nica.

Nica: Going by that look on your face, you didn’t hear what you wanted from the doctor?

Kate: How did you know that…?

(Now that I think about it, I didn’t ask back then, but…)

(For some reason, Nica was present at the time after I got kidnapped)

(I’m not mistaken. Nica was snooping around us)

Nica: Oh dear, can I talk about that? I do hold the key to all the information.

Kate: …All the information?

Nica: On why Roger Barel was arrested.

(...You mean)

Ellis had told me about it before.

The time when Roger was still unlicensed and agreed to treat Jude so that he could use him as practice.

(After that, Roger’s been…)

I turn pale at the realization that Roger’s been unlicensed.

Roger left the family business behind and joined Crown to put all his focus on researching curses.

His ego rejected the life as a doctor…

And Roger was the most unforgiving to himself for the sin of carrying the title of doctor.

Nica: And here’s the interesting part, Robin. Roger’s research on the Cursed—He’s looking in to how to get rid curses, isn’t he?

(You know that much…)

When I pursed my lips, a gentle voice leisurely blocked my escape route.

Nica: Ah, it’s pointless to fool me. You’ll be in trouble too if we don’t keep going.

Nica let out a throaty laugh.

Nica: Roger’s formulation documents for the potion to remove curses were handed over to Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council.

Kate: To the Privy Council…?

Nica: In exchange for the valuable materials, he demanded that he’d be given an important position. And even proposed that Crown be dissolved. That’s the Double-crossing Hunter’s curse for you.

Because the Privy Council is so devoted to Her Majesty, they don’t think highly of Crown, whom Her Majesty puts all her trust in.

Even I know that.

(Could it be…)

The smug looks on the Privy Council’s faces as they led Roger away confirmed my suspicions. 

(...I’m sure of it)

(And Roger clearly said that he was “set up by the Privy Council”)

Kate: Roger would never betray us. This was…all a plot by the Privy Council.

Nica: Hmm, you really do believe in the Cursed Ones, don’t you, robin. …Ah, that’s right. Because Roger’s unlicensed, the Privy Council demanded that Crown cease all activities. Currently, they’re all being watched by Her Majesty and can’t make any moves.

(When Roger was taken away, none of Crown’s members were around.)

Usually at this point, someone would fill me in.

If no one’s shown up, then that means what Nica said was probably true.

Nica: Even if Roger didn’t betray them, those valuable materials would’ve still ended up in the Privy Council’s hands. This is certainly a bind. What are you going to do, robin? Are you in despair?

(...It’s frustrating, but Nica’s right)

If I lost focus in a desperate sort of situation, I’d get consumed by despair.

But, Roger’s voice echoed in my mind.

—“I’m not gonna give into despair so easily.”

(I hate losing and don’t know when to give up)

(Even less so after meeting Roger)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Even though you felt depressed, it was sweet seeing you keep looking forward and not give in to despair. I also believe that in life is to give despair the finger.

Kate: Give despair the finger?

Roger: Yeah. I went through the trouble of being born. I’m not gonna give into despair so easily.

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate: …Regardless of what happens, I’ll never despair. You don’t resign yourself to despair, you give it the finger.

(...Right, Roger?)

Nica: …Hmmm. Then let’s suppose Roger can be saved. But is that actually a good thing?

Nica smiled as he spoke those unsettling words.

Kate: What do you mean by that?

Nica: That man will definitely find a way to make curses disappear. He’s pretty persistent. It’d be a big step toward changing us Cursed Ones and the world. Curses disappear and we Cursed Ones go back to being human. What’s salvation for some may be a tragedy for others. You should understand that, right?

Kate: I do.

(Because I’ve been trying to find an answer to Roger’s question)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world? You don’t have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.

~~ Flashback end ~~

There were always two sides to everything.

Drugs could be medicine or poison.

Pure thoughts sometimes made us suffer. Anger always came with sadness.

Kate: I can never say if making curses disappear would be a good or evil thing. But I do also want the pain of not having control over my own life to go away.

(I—)

Kate: I wish for a future where the Cursed get to choose whether or not they want to live with their curse. 

I was amazed at myself for saying that without hesitation.

(Turns out I already found my answer to the question…)

Nica: …

When I looked at Nica, I saw that his smile had disappeared from his face.

…But then it came back.

Nica: We’re just talking about what-ifs. What are you getting so serious for? Ahaha, you’re an earnest robin.

He laughed for a bit before looking into my eyes, that smile still on his face.

Nica: …Hey. Have you know Gracefield Royal Hospital?

Kate: Gracefield Royal Hospital. Yes, I’ve heard of that name.

(It’s the hospital where Roger’s father and Alec had worked)

Nica: There was some big shot from the Privy Council coming in and out of the hospital holding something that looked like Roger’s research materials. Haha, it’s smelling of evil, huh?

When curses disappeared, Crown would lose their abilities. In that case…

The ones rejoicing would be the Privy Council, who see Crown as a thorn in their side.

They’re jealous of Crown’s abilities.

(If the Privy Council was going in and out of the hospital with Roger’s research, then that means…)

Kate: …Is the Privy Council…trying to create a drug to remove curses?

Nica just smiled.

Nica: …Still, Crown can’t make a move. Roger’s in a cell. You just have a dog.

Nica looked at Ale in my arms.

Ale: …Woof.

Nica: You either clear through the situation, or it’s game over…I’m expecting things.

As I thought over what Nica said, I heard him leave.

(Is what he just said true…?)

(Nica could be feeding me misinformation, but…)

I don’t have any information at the moment, so I’ll just have to believe him.

(Besides, it don’t think he was lying)

Kate: Roger, I—

What should I do?

Who should I turn to?

What am I supposed to do? +4 +4

Kate: Roger, I—What am I supposed to do?

(Even though we’re apart, we’re still under the same sky)

I asked the question as I turned to the endless span of blue.

Kate: …

A gentle breeze brushed my cheek and I lifted my gaze.

The storm that raged in my mind had calmed down.

(There’s an arrest warrant for Roger. The Privy Council said they would be turning him over to the police)

Doctors who performed surgery without a license were supposed to be prosecuted under the court of law.

Meaning he’d be sent to the courthouse before going to prison.

(What will the Privy Council plan to do after getting Roger arrested…)

That’s still uncertain.

(But, if they really are attempting to make a drug that will remove curses)

Roger’s definitely needed to stop it.

Keeping Roger active would be the key to getting out of this situation. 

(But I’m all alone)

(...Can I do this all alone?)

(I don’t have a choice if Crown thinks Roger’s a traitor—)

Kate: No, don’t think like that.

(Not everyone in Crown’s like that…)

They may not be good people. In fact, they’re definitely villains.

(But…that’s what makes them so good at reading people’s minds)

I understand this because I’ve faced many troubles as Fairytale Keeper, and each time, Crown would help me out.

(And Crown’s not the type to just sit quietly)

(So have faith in me. I’ll do all that I can)

Ale: Arf.

As if to cheer me up while I was stuck deep in thought, Ale licked my nose.

Kate: Ah, hehe…Sorry. That’s right, I have Ale. …Ale, let’s go get Roger back.

Ale: Arf arf!

--

And so I headed to— 

(Is this courthouse really that big?!)

While it was a relief that I could blend in with the public audience, the interior was so big that I couldn’t find the cell Roger was held in.

Kate: I have one door left…and there’s a security guard, Ale.

Ale: …Woof.

Kate: But that place definitely feels suspicious, huh?

Ale: Arf arf.

Ale’s short tail wagged vigorously as if to say “Use me as a distraction”.

Kate: …Got it, thank you Ale. Roger will give you a lot of rewards later for your hard work.

Ale: Woof!

After gently setting him down on the ground, Ale made a beeline for the security guard…

Security guard: Woah, huh? A dog? Ah, wait, stop!

He ran around in circles, playing with the security guard and knocking vases over.

Kate: Nice, Ale!

Using the distraction, I slipped through the door and started searching around the courtroom.

(Which door leads to the cells?)

I didn’t find anything of the sort as I wandered around, when I suddenly remembered…

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Oh right, Kate. See that square door on the floor there? That’s actually a hidden door—Leads directly to the basement lab.

~~ End flashback ~~

(If there’s a hidden door, then it would probably be…)

I casually looked under the judge’s seat and found a square cut-out shaped like a door on the floor—

(...You're kidding me. There really is one.)

When I went through the door, there were walls on both sides and a continuous passageway.

(It’s dark, I can’t see ahead of me…)

I slapped my cheeks as if to scold myself for feeling scared and took a step forward.

(I wonder if I’m getting stronger)

(...Maybe just a little bit)

(Because my hands are cold, my heart is pounding loudly, my legs are shaking, and I’m actually so anxious I could cry)

Within the pitch-black darkness, the only sounds were my heartbeat and the thoughts in my head.

(Also, I always hesitate at crucial moments…I can’t do anything for people important to me)

I couldn’t hug Roger on that rainy night as he stood there alone in the rain.

(Just like earlier. I should’ve hugged him and told him not to go…)

I was one step away from being able to hug him.

—I was afraid he would tell me he didn’t want it.

—I was afraid that I wouldn’t touch his heart.

(But that’s enough of feeling weak now)

There’s no need for weakness that would leave someone I love alone.

I needed to throw that weakness that stopped me from reaching out to the one I love away.

I may be Roger’s partner, but I still have a long ways to go before I’m strong.

(However…Now I need do everything in my power for the person I love)

--

It seemed that I reached the end of the passageway and I no longer felt a wall.

There was only a single candlelight in the darkness.

(...I can faintly make out what looks like a jail cell…Roger has to be there)

(But what if I’ve made it this far and I’m wrong?)

Kate: …I want to see Roger.

My voice melted into the darkness when—

Roger’s voice: …Kate?

(Just now)

Kate: Roger!

I followed the voice, grabbing at the bars. When I strained my eyes, there he was—

Roger: …Kate.

Next

[drabblesandimagines]

Bold

Joshua Rosfield x female reader, fluff Commissioned piece, 2,820 words - thank you to the commissioner for commissioning me, and for allowing me to share on here too! x

The Imperial soldier squeezes your cheeks so hard between armour-clad thumb and forefinger that it’ll leave bruises, digging into your jaw to direct your half-lidded gaze at him. You’d been staring in the corner when he’d come in – head pounding, shivering one minute and sweltering the next, barely reacting until he’d grabbed hold of you. You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve now been shackled in this damp, dark and cold cell awaiting punishment, how many hours it’s been since you’ve had anything to eat or drink.

“We are gonna make a fine example out of you in the morning, my lady.” He snarls out the title with distaste. “Filthy Branded sympathizer, hm? Well, you’ll be pleased to hear if you love them so much, you can die with them.”

He shoves your head against the wall and gets to his feet. You don’t say anything in retaliation – don’t have the strength - but hear him leave the cell, locking the door behind him, as always. This is it, then. A public execution is how you will meet your fate, alongside some poor Bearers. It used to be rare that Bearers be executed, too much of a valuable resource for the Empire, but they seem to be growing keener on it ever since the Mothercrystals began to fall.

Was it really so wrong what you’d been doing - giving Bearers a warm bed and a hot meal when their days were so already so cruelly numbered? You owed a Bearer your life, after all. In those days after the fall of Phoenix Gate, they had helped you escape out of Rosalie before the Iron Blood and Empire could descend.

How life had changed since that moment.

You curl up on the floor, shackles clanking against the concrete as you move, and close your eyes, hoping that your last night of dreams will be of happier times.

--

Rosalie, Capital of Rosaria, Year 860

It had been easy enough slipping in to the banquet hall. By this point of the wedding feast, everyone was far too merry on wine and ale to pay any mind to the girl who followed in the footsteps of a couple of Shields, just relieved from their duty.

You scanned the high table for your target, fidgeting with the silver pendant around your neck – a nervous habit your mother scolded you for constantly, “Ladies do not fidget” ­-and smiled as you saw Joshua sat in one of the high-backed chairs, alone, poking at something on his dinner plate with a sour look on his face.

He didn’t enjoy these functions - to have the Phoenix attend such an event was seen as a blessing and honour upon the newlyweds. Elwin was away with the war effort, his usual chair empty as a sign of respect, but Anabella had abandoned her younger son’s side for once, conversing with some of the Imperial noblemen who had travelled to the duchy especially for the celebrations.

You hurry between tables and guests, taking cover, until you reach the end of the high table and duck under the table cloth to crawl on your hands and knees to below where Joshua is sitting. You’re thankful you’re dressed in navy this evening - your governess would scold you rotten if you came home with stains again.

“Psst!” You tug at the hem of his robes sharply, causing him to look down in shock. Joshua’s widen in surprise before a shy smile develops. He looks around the room to make sure no attention is on him at that moment and slides down off his chair to join you on the floor.

“What are you doing here?”

 You grin, proud of yourself. “My governess thinks I am practicing needlework with Lady Jill, so I thought I’d see if you were need in company.”

“You snuck in!” Joshua gasps in realization. You’ve always been more adventurous, more bold than him, though it was obviously much harder when he was under his mother’s watch.

“Mm. I walked in right behind the Shields, if you would believe it. They didn’t even see me.” You’re almost giddy. “Now, have you managed to have any fun at all?”

He pouts, fiddling with the hem of his robe. “Not really. They had cake, but Mother said I couldn’t until I had eaten everything on my plate.”

“Let me guess – carrots?”

He gives a curt nod.

You roll your eyes, he’s always been particularly averse to the vegetable. “Wait a moment.” You crawl out from your hiding place, heading towards an abandoned table – the dancing had started in earnest now – and swiped a piece of untouched cake from a plate, balancing it in your palm as you hurry back to your hiding place.

“Here,” you break apart the delicate sponge with your fingers, offering him half – the bigger half – and smile. “Let’s share a piece.”

Joshua beams, accepting the offering and raising it up to his lips to take a delicate bite. It’s delicious and so sugary sweet, topped with icing - Mother is always forcing him to eat things she deems good and nutritious for him to aid with his ill health.

The two of you eat your cake in silence as you peek out under the table cloth, watching the ladies’ skirts twirl across the dance floor as the festivities continue.

“What are they doing out there now?”

“Dancing.” You reply, almost wistfully.

“Do you…” he hesitates, brushes the crumbs off his hands, “Do you wish to dance?”

“My governess says I have two left feet,” you lament, dropping the cloth to turn back to him, fiddling with your necklace once more.

“That is untrue”, Joshua protests. “I saw you dance at the First Shield celebrations – you were graceful. Mother even agreed.”

“No,” you grow a little bashful then, shy of compliments. “Plus, that wasn’t proper dancing, that was-“

A sword pokes cautiously through the table cloth then, making the two of you jump.

“Well, well, what’s this - an intruder in the Great Hall?” Your heart skips a beat at being caught, watching as the sword carefully lifts up the cloth and Clive pops his head through, a curious smile on his face in a crouched position as he takes in the two of you.

“My lady, your governess is causing quite the commotion in search of you. She appears to be under the impression that you were practicing your needlework with Jill.”

“Ah...”

“However, Jill informed her that you had been, but had just headed homewards prior to her arrival. You may wish to head back before she finds you are, in fact, not.”

“Thank you, my lord. Please pass on my thanks to Lady Jill too.” You bow your head in respect – always have been a little nervous of Clive despite him being very sweet - before beginning to crawl out past him. You pause, turn your head over your shoulder and beam at the blonde-haired boy. “Goodnight, Joshua.”

“Goodnight.” He smiles, bashfully.

As you disappear, Clive shakes his head with a knowing smile at the Phoenix, who scowls in response.

“You’re making that face again, brother.”

“What face?”

“The one all the adults do.”

Clive sighs, ruffling his brother’s hair. “You’ll understand when you’re older. Come on,” he offers Joshua his hand. “Out of there before Mother notices.”

--

Year 678

You sleep in feverish spits and spurts, a hoarse-sounding cough wracking your lungs until dawn breaks, where you are dragged up to your feet and along to a wagon for transportation, a group of three Bearers already within. You’re barely conscious but you don’t fight it, perhaps the fever will take you before the noose can.

Everything happens in a haze – a bumpy wagon ride, the clash of metal on metal… You swear someone picks you up with gentle hands rather than rough ones, bundles you in something warm and soft, a gentle bobbing sensation as if you are on a boat…

And then there’s a moment where you see stormy blue eyes that seem familiar from long ago, a flicker of recognition…

Then darkness.

--

Clive storms into the infirmary, you cradled in his arms and Tarja looks up, ready to chide him for once again interrupting Joshua’s check-up, but her prepared scowl drops as she sees what he carries.

“What’s happened?”

“Three Bearers incoming – no injuries, as far as I can tell. Cole says this one hasn’t been properly conscious since they rescued her – a fever, mayhaps.”

“Right,” Tarja nods her head towards an empty bed. “Put her down.”

He places you down, gently, on the bed besides Joshua, who had got to his feet in the commotion – trying to take advantage of it to sneak away from Tarja’s ministrations.

“Joshua, wait.” Clive grabs his brother’s arm, halting him firmly in his tracks. “Take a look at her face – a good one. Am I mistaken, or isn’t it…?” He trails off, looking for confirmation.

Joshua quirks an eyebrow, confused by his brother’s request, but he complies all the same. He walks back over to the bedside and gazes down upon your face, paired with the pendent hanging around your neck and he swears his heart stops.

--

There’s a dull thud in your head as consciousness returns, your eyes flutter open to take in a wooden ceiling, but not one of a wagon. You’re lying on a soft mattress, covered in a blanket and, most peculiarly, someone has their hand resting upon yours.

You turn your head and stare at the blonde man sat besides you, who meets your gaze with a familiar bashful smile.

“Hello,” his voice is soft, just as you remember. “I do not know if you remem-“

You don’t let him finish his sentence, sitting up and throwing your arms around his neck. He’s a little taken back by the sudden act of affection, grunting a little at the impact, but it soon turns into a chuckle as he wraps his arms back around you.

“I thought you dead.” You mumble into his shoulder, voice hoarse but thick with unshed tears. You pull back, wanting to take in his face. “Or am I? Tell me, is it really you, Joshua?”

He nods, beaming now – tears brimming in his own eyes. “It is me, my lady.”

“But how…?” Your question is cut off by that awful wracking cough, burning your lungs and making your eyes water. Joshua rubs your back – he knows all too well how painful coughs can be, after all.

“Easy. Tarja, our healer, will ban me from your bedside if I cause too much excitement. You must rest. There will plenty of time for conversation later, I promise you.”

You reach out for his hand and squeeze it in acknowledgement, trying to catch your breath as your cough finally begins to subside.

“Here.” He drops his hand from your back and twists awkwardly, reaching for a tankard of water by the bedside and offers it to you. “Small sips, now.”

You take it gratefully, being mindful of Joshua’s instruction despite a dreadful thirst and sip slowly, keen to return to conversation, so many questions running through your mind.

He gently takes the tankard once you have finished its contents and places it down, a pout now on his lips.

“I beg you excuse me – Tarja will be most displeased if she discovers you have awakened and I have not informed her. I will be but a moment.”

He gets to his feet – he’s certainly taller than you now, still of a slim build and almost all leg - and you squeeze his hand again firmly as you could hold. “I fear this is a dream.”

Joshua smiles – that same sweet smile you remember from childhood – and brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss across your knuckles. “I assure you this is most real, my lady.”

 --

After a few more days in the infirmary, plied with various elixirs and tonics and strict bedrest, Joshua staying firmly by your side every waking moment that he was permitted to, Tarja finally deems you recovered enough to leave. He is sure to take your hand and escort you down the stairs, giving you a grand tour of the Hideaway, so you found it to be called.

“Joshua?” Jill calls for him as she descends the stairs from Clive’s chambers – the two of you having just done a lap of the Ale Hall. “Clive would like a word.”

“Of course,” Joshua nods, giving you an apologetic smile before he turns to ascend the stairs. Jill quickly swoops in to take his place, looping her arm through yours and leading you out of the Ale Hall and he can’t help but muse that he had somewhat monopolized your time as late. He knocks on the door of his brother’s chambers once and is bade to enter, finding Clive seated at his writing desk, two tankards in front of him and a chair waiting on the other side. The other Fire Dominant gestures towards it and as Joshua sits, he wastes no time.

“Now,” Clive pushes the tankard of ale towards his brother, “Out with it.”

Joshua looks bemused. “Out with what?”

“You’re in love.”

He lightly scoffs, but there is no hiding the crimson in his cheeks. “Nonsense.”

“We all saw it when you were children, Joshua, and we can all see it again now.”

Joshua takes a deep sip from his tankard, trying to avoid Clive’s gaze.

“Look, I do not mean to push you, just… with what we know about Ultima, I do not wish for you to have regrets going forward. I wish I had told Jill years ago of my feelings, and  I cannot sit here idle and allow you to do the same.”

“What if she does not feel the same?”

Clive smiles at him – the same smile he and all the adults did back when he was merely a boy – and he knows what he must do.

--

“My lady,” he offers you hand once more, “Would you care to join me some fresh air? The night is quite pleasant and the view from the observation desk exquisite.”

You take it – it feels more and more natural every time – and nod. “I would love nothing more.”

You head up the spiraling stair case – Joshua’s hand still holding your own, another resting on the small of your back and emerge at the top. He was right - it’s a clear, moon-lit night, Metia twinkling and stars down upon you, the still waters of the blighted lake almost like a mirror.

He leads you over to the bench and the two of you take a seat, for a moment just enjoying each other’s company in silence, though you soon notice the twitch in the Phoenix’s leg.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I…” He looks down a moment, before meeting your gaze with his own again. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Me - whatever for?”

He places his hand hesitantly upon yours, clasped politely in your lap. “For being my steadfast friend when I was growing up, and now, to reunite with you after all these years, to see the beautiful young woman you’ve become – still as kind and honest and… brave.”

“Brave?” You laugh at the suggestion. “No, not me – not in comparison to Clive’s merry band.”

“My lady, please don’t dismiss yourself, and especially not when I am trying my best to pay you compliments, which I see you are still no good at accepting.” He teases.

“Some things never change, I suppose.”

“Yet some things do.”

There is no time to question as Joshua leans forward then, cupping your palm with his hand and stares deeply into your eyes, making your cheeks prickle with heat.

“May I be as bold to request a kiss, my lady?”

You don’t even answer, leaning to forward to meet his lips with yours, placing your hand upon his shoulder. It is gentle – as Joshua has always been and will always be – and soft, slowly increasing in pace as the two of you grow in confidence and passion. His arm wraps around your waist, tugging you closer, bodies pressed as he runs his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entrance and -

There is a creak of a floorboard and the two of you break apart, flustered by the interruption, hearts pounding. A sheepish Clive is stood there, Jill trying to stifle a giggle behind him, the two of them now trying to head back down the stairs.

“Brother,” Joshua calls, “I assure you we are no longer in need of a chaperone.”

“I can tell.” Clive replies, his voice carrying from up the stairs.

“Now, sweet one,” Joshua places his hand back upon your cheek, arm once more around your waist to pull you against him. “Where were we?” ---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 9

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae

Word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Part 8~Part 10

“How was your day?” She asks from the bathroom. I shrug only to realise she can’t see me. “The usual,” I can hear her zip something up. “What is the usual?” I too am getting dressed in something more comfortable. It’s already 5 and we had dinner called up. For me, however, getting dressed is much quicker.  

“Well, especially now that we are in the home of Ferrari, Charles and I spend a lot of time on the racing simulator. With that we have the chance to speak to the factory workers, thank them for their hard work and really speak with the engineers. Then after that I spend a lot of time in the gym.” Yet these days, I spend a lot of the time there thinking about her.  

However, before I can say much else, she finally exits the bathroom in the first outfit. It’s a tweed white set. Oh, how I do love her in white. It gives me a sneak peak of the day she becomes mine. She looks so professional, ready to boss around whoever denies her anything. Too, at the same time, so elegant in the way her hair falls to the way her eyes shine.  

“And how was your day?” I ask, allowing her to change outfits, she had just shown me ravishing white bikini that has me needing to think of something else. “Oh, Carlos, I had so much fun. I just love the car so so much, people were taking pictures of it and me all day. Don’t you think it would look beautiful in like, a light pink?”  

I can’t help but laugh. “What? Would it be considered some sort of car treachery?” This does make me laugh even more. She is so cute. Holding the smallest things with such high honour but still always staying true to her heart. “There are some men out there who would call it...a betrayal to the craftsmanship. But those men are the ones who can’t afford the car and haven’t felt a woman’s touch since they were born.”  

Her laugh explodes from the bathroom. It warms my heart and brings a wide smile to my face. How I wish I could bottle that sound and carry it with me, for the days when everything becomes too much. That laugh of hers takes me to another dimension, one when it’s only me and her and not a single thing on this earth could come between us.  

The moment she steps out of the bathroom, my heart stops. She is just so gorgeous. She should be locked up in my house forever. How no one has stolen her heart yet is beyond me. She gives so easily her heart. There is so little I have to give and so much that she gives me. “Carlos, you haven’t said anything. Do you not like it?”  

How long have I been staring at her? How could I ever stop looking at her? “Would you prefer I bend the knee, or bow down fully?” Her laugh is like music to my ears. “What are you talking about?” Her eyebrows furrow, but I can’t look past just how much healthier she looks. The withdrawals seem to have gone for the most part.  

I’d been giving her medication to help, of course after consulting the best expert I could find. That crease in her forehead is gone and her eyes don’t seem as foggy anymore. “You are a goddess. This has to be the only conclusion. And I am your loyal follower, sent to worship you.” She coos, a pink hue becomes her. 

“Wait until you find out the name of the dress.” I motion my hand for her to continue. “Mon Amour.” Of course, because the universe knows. She must have seen me smile so bright because she says more. “When I told the shopping clerk, that it is one of your many names for me, he immediately called the designer over.”  

I do love listening to her talk. I could to it until the end of time and still not get tired. “I didn’t even know the designer was in house. I mean, it’s Channel, you’d expect that from a small boutique not a big house like them. Anyways, when he saw me in the dress, he was, as he said, ‘overwhelmed with my beauty.’” 

This causes my jaw to tick. Yes, I had sent the Channel store a generous sum of money, telling them about the very important client that would be visiting their store. I knew she’d go there; Chanel is her most visited page on Instagram. Besides mine, these days. She doesn’t need to know how I know that.   

What I didn’t know is that they’d send a designer in. Or the fact that this designer would be a he. “He said what?” Her words make my jaw tick. “He said something along the lines of ‘the way your body simply is, is inspiring.’ His words really made me blush.” The urge to show her just exactly who she belongs to is strong.  

Not only that, but I’d love to find this ‘designer’ and beat him to a pulp. Yes, his words are correct, but the fact that his attitude made her blush? That should have him sent to prison. “He then started styling me, oh I can’t wait to show you.” She then runs off only to return in a tight denim dress.  

One that hugs her curves like the red dress but shows just a bit less skin. Yet still, the thought him evaluating her body, watching her as I do now, is infuriating. What the fuck was he thinking? And why would she allow him to do any of this? She does a turn before going back, only to come out with a black skirt and pink top.  

I don’t say anything, I mostly spend the time plotting the man’s murder. The next is a green set, one that highlights just how heavenly she is. A fairy roaming in the gardens. A mermaid walking for the first time. An angel who has just gotten their wings. “After I finished paying for all this, he gave me his business card. Said to call him when I start getting serious about modeling.”  

I hold out my hand and she places the card in my hand. Without hesitation I tear it up. This man will never contact her ever again. In fact, no one should. I don’t want people from the outside filling her heads with all sorts of stories. They could drive a wall between us. And if that happens, my plans for her will have to take a drastic jump.  

“Carlos! Why would you do that?” Her lip pushes out and her arms cross over her chest. “I don’t want him contacting you. If he wants to speak to you, he’ll have to talk to me first.” She rolls her eyes at me and then sighs. “You have to be joking.” I raise my brow at her. This is incredibly serious. “In fact, I don’t want anyone outside our inner circles contacting you.” She gasps and her mouth hangs open.  

“This is taking it too far, Carlos.” Her eyes are usually big, doe and sparkling, but now I see a fury and an anger. “That’s what assistants are for. So that you don’t have to spend your time worrying about schedules or weeding out the people who will further your future and those who just want to use you.”  

I can show her far. Someday it will only be me and her and the Sainz family. There will be no interruptions from people. She will not be tainted by the words and opinions of others. They will not take her from me. Nothing will. “Oh,” her mouth snaps shut and that fire in her eyes dim. “What, do you think I’d shut you out from the world? I’m not that jealous.”  

A little lie here and there won’t hurt her. After all, once she is in my hands, it will have happened so slowly she won’t even realise that she has been taken home. I am her home. No one else. Not her parents, not her friends, not her co-workers. Not even the other drivers on the grid. She will be untouchable, unreachable by everyone but me. The goddess and her dress and her disciple.   

There is a knock at the door, I glance at the balcony and see it’s already dark out. After the outfits, she had also shown me the jewels she bought along with a purse and some shoes. It was quite fun actually, seeing her eyes shine like the gems she had bought. Her smile so wide, I just want to eat her up. I settle for a kiss on the forehead. “Go get in your pj’s, I’ll get the food.” 

“What movie are we watching?” I ask, turning off the big light after we ate. She’s already snuggled in bed, like a kid on Christmas. “Pretty Woman, duh. I’m going to point out every time I felt like Julia Roberts.” I can’t help but laugh at her shenanigans. And still give her a kiss on the head and climb in the bed next to her.  

But I can see the way she eyes me, with a longing glance and those big doe eyes. “Come here, mi amor. Snuggle in close.” Her eyes beam again and without hesitation I pull her close into my arms. She cuddles in close, almost rubbing her face into my chest. She curls herself into a small ball and I make sure she isn’t uncomfortable for a single moment.  

Yet, still, she’s fidgety. “Sit still, o te pondré en una posición en la que no tendrás más remedio que quedarte quieto.” I squeeze her legs tight, to really drive it home. Her squirming has caused an effect on my body that I’m sure she’s not ready to handle yet. She whines, “I’m sorry, can I show you something?”  

“Of course,” I make small circles on her delicate skin, encouraging her to tell me more. She pulls out her phone and then goes to the videos. She then continues to show me a video in the Instagram reel format of her enjoying her day shopping. “Do you think it’s cringe?” She asks, biting her lip and this time it’s me that squirms.  

“No, of course not, I’m glad that you’re finally pursuing your dreams. Even if it’s a small start. Not to mention, it’s really well done.” A blush coats her cheeks, she so up and down. One moment she’s the hottest girl I’ve ever met and the next she’s as cute as can be and I want to hold her like this, all bundled in my arms, forever.  

I haven’t seen this video on her Instagram yet. “Why haven’t you posted it yet?” She bites her lip and avoids my gaze. “No seas tímido conmigo,” she gasps when I nip at her ear and it forces a deep chuckle from me. “I’m scared of what they’ll say about me. I’m scared that they’ll piece together our agreement.” I scoff at her, and shake my head. “So what if they do?”  

She whines and rolls her eyes. “If my modelling career starts, I don’t people to think it’s because I whored myself out.”  Whored herself out? How dare she even think something like that? If anyone ever even dare to talk even slightly bad about her, I’ll have them castrated. I have a tough security and they do anything I ask.  

Money does a lot for a person and for her... I, myself don’t even know how far I’d go. “If you ever say that again, I’ll fuck the word right from your mouth.” I just love the way her eyes go big and she begins to stutter when I say something even slightly seductive. It turns me on, just how much power I hold over her.  

“Dios, eres tan lindo. Here, give me your phone.” She does it without hesitation, still flustered by my words. I open the camera and the moment she sees the selfie side, she ducks behind my arms. I take a picture, it’s as cute as can be. I go to set it as her wallpaper but see that the photo she took on the first day is already the wallpaper.  

I raise my brow at her and she just shrugs. I look and see her lock screen is her and her other two friends that I hear so much about. “I always keep the most important things in my life as my wallpaper.” I feel so warm at her words. How much more perfect can she be? I take my phone and do the same as she has. And proceed to post it on my story.  

“Post the video. Let them talk, that just makes it more fun to prove them wrong.” She just gazes up at me with such love in her eyes. Then her eyes flicker back to the TV and she gasps, “Look, look. Look at how awful these fancy ladies are to her. She’s just this big bundle of energy and childlike joy and they’re just so cruel.”  

I stay listening with extreme intent. It’s almost funny, the way she describes this girl, because it sounds just like my Y/N. “It happened in the store, just today. Before I went to Chanel, I walked into Gucci. I had parked a bit away, for safety. A bit of a habit, I guess. They didn’t see the car, but they gave one look and went ‘we have nothing in your size.’”  

My grip grows tighter than I want it to be. I don’t want her to know the effect she has on me, I’m certain that she’d use it against me. If she truly wanted, she could have me like putty in her hands. Wrapped around her finger, she could have me on my knees with one look. She doesn’t notice it, but there are tears that pool in her eyes.  

“I’m a size ten! That’s very average. Shouldn’t they make clothes for an average person like me.” She pouts, pushing out her bottom lip. Subconsciously, she wraps my arms tighter around her. I’m her protection, she doesn’t realise it, but I am her safety blanket. I scoff at her words. “Please, you are the least average person I have ever met. I’ll have the store bankrupt by next week.”  

She gasps and gives me a slight hit on the arm. “You will do no such thing.” I laugh, kissing her neck. “And why not?” I whisper, pulling her closer into my arms. “Because, you are just race car driver, you will not bankrupt a store that has been standing there for decades with a fashion rich history. I will not have some nepo-baby with too much money on his has destroy it over some girl he met two weeks ago.”  

Her words would be harsh coming from anyone else. But when she says it, it only makes me laugh. “Is that really what you think of me?” She blushes, “I’m sorry I said that. I don’t know much about cars, but I can see you have a real passion for it and a real talent for it. You know, outside of your father’s influence.” She makes me feel like a superhero. In her eyes I can do no wrong. It feels like everybody has been criticizing me all my life, but she? No, she just loves, open and free and can’t find anything wrong with it.  

“And I’ll support you. Always, like you do me.” How I wish now I could kiss her. Just to make the words stop, because if she says one more thing, I might just cry. “Speaking of fathers... Next week is an off weekend and I still owe you a visit to your family.” She sighs, a loud, heavy drawn out one, she leans against my arm and pretends to go back to the movie.  

On instinct I just know, and once again open her phone and find her messages with her mom. She doesn’t stop me, actually she encourages it by giving her password. I can see almost each time her mother has messaged her, she either replied with a dry answer or just didn’t reply at all. “I don’t know what to tell her.”  

“You haven’t told your family about us yet?” Her shy eyes avoid my gaze and I know she feels guilty. “I don’t know what to say. Oh, yes, I’m in the arms of a man I’ve only known two weeks, because, you know, he paid off my student debt and is also so hot it’s unfair to any other guy that has ever lived.” Yes, her words are true but we both know we’re forever. And if she doesn’t realise it, I’ll just have to convince her.  

A low hum escapes my throat, “They do not watch the race? They haven’t seen you there?” She laughs and shakes her head, “They wouldn’t dream of it. They both are kickers for the good old days and when they do watch TV, it’s just those old soaps. In fact, I got my first job when I was 16 and with my first paycheck I bought a shitty phone. After school I’d walk to the nearest café, use their Wi-Fi and watch every fashion movie I could find. Illegally, of course.”  

I love hearing everything about her. It feels as though I could never know everything about her and that breaks my heart. “Well, I suppose we have to have a story for them and the media too. Let’s say this, we keep the story the same, we just move the timeline back about a year. So, instead of 13th of August, let’s make it...the 1st of February.”  

“And why wouldn’t I tell my own mother, about a guy I’m dating, for six months.” That’s a good point. “Well, let’s say that we wanted to keep it private until we’re sure of us.” She shrugs, “That makes sense, ooh, can I buy them presents tomorrow?” I chuckle, always so thoughtful. “Of course.”  

I have to buy them over somehow. If they don’t aprove of me... I’d hate to break my girl’s heart. Having a bit fall out with your own parents can be very traumatic. But I won’t hesistate. I’m sure mother would love her just as much as I do. And father, he would understand why I do, what I need to do.  

Taglist is open, just ask!

[rebellenotes]

Grieving What You Cannot Touch

I’ve always found it strange how we’re taught to grieve for tangible losses—a person, a place, a thing—but never for the intangible. Nobody tells you how to mourn the parts of yourself you’ve outgrown, or the life you thought you’d have, or the innocence that quietly slipped away when you weren’t paying attention. It’s an ache without a name, a grief that doesn’t fit into tidy boxes like funerals or goodbyes. And yet, it lingers, just as heavy, just as real.

I feel like that type of grief is often closely related to nostalgia. Or rather that nostalgia is, amongst other things, the experience of grieving the past. But it’s not just about longing for what was—it’s about grieving what never was. The version of your life that didn’t come to pass, the connections you hoped for but never formed. For me, it’s the emotional relationship I never had with the male members of my family, particularly my father.

Growing up, I never experienced the father-daughter bond I’d see in movies or hear about from friends. My dad was always emotionally unavailable—distant in a way I couldn’t name as a child but felt keenly in the space between us. I’ve recently learned that when I was 2 or 3 years old, he was in and out of the hospital due to his cancer. During those formative years, my world revolved around my mom, not my dad. And as I piece these things together as an adult, I can’t help but wonder how those early days shaped me. Did I subconsciously decide, even as a toddler, that I couldn’t rely on male figures for emotional connection? Did I carry that into my relationships later on?

The grief here isn’t just for the past; it’s for the ripple effects it has in the present. I grieve the father I wish I had, the kind of dad who would have taught me how to trust male figures, how to feel secure in their presence. But I also grieve the way that absence shaped me into someone who still struggles with those connections today. It’s not a straightforward pain. It’s layered with love, disappointment, and a quiet understanding that sometimes people can’t give you what you need—not because they don’t care, but because they didn’t know how.

This kind of grief is tricky because it’s not rooted in a single event or moment. It’s a slow, quiet loss that stretches across years, shaping you in ways you don’t realize until you look back. And when you do, it’s not just sadness you feel—it’s a mix of everything: anger, longing, confusion, acceptance. You grieve what you didn’t have, what you didn’t know to ask for, and what you’ll never fully get back.

And yet, in grieving, there’s also clarity. There’s a sense of giving yourself permission to name the loss, even if it feels abstract. To say, “This mattered. This hurt. And I’m allowed to feel it.” Because mourning isn’t just about closure—it’s about honouring the weight of what was missing, even if it can’t be replaced.

But how do you fix something so… floating? Something so abstract and unfathomable for a lot of people. How do I tell people I grieve the loving father-daughter relationship I never had? People respond, “I’m sorry for your loss,” and it feels comforting, until I realise they assume my father is gone. But I’m not talking about the physical presence of my dad. I’m talking about the absence of a loving connection between us. 

How do you grieve something that technically exists but doesn’t feel whole? It’s not a loss in the traditional sense—it’s not someone who passed away or a relationship that was severed. It’s something more elusive: the absence of what could have been, of what you needed but didn’t receive. It’s mourning potential. It’s grieving love that never bloomed in the ways you hoped it would.

I’ve tried to explain this to others before, and it’s always met with a kind of confusion. People are quick to console when they think you’ve lost someone physically. They know how to respond when grief has a name and a date. But when you tell them, “I’m grieving a bond that was never there,” they don’t know what to say. It’s like trying to describe the shape of an empty space, a void that only you can see.

And maybe that’s what makes this kind of grief so isolating. It’s hard to articulate, hard to validate, even to yourself. You start to question whether it’s fair to feel this way. After all, my dad was there, right? He worked hard, he provided for us, he was present in the ways he knew how to be. So why does it still feel like something is missing? Why does it hurt so much to see other father-daughter relationships filled with warmth and emotional closeness?

That’s the thing about intangible grief—it doesn’t adhere to logic. You can’t reason your way out of it. It lingers, sneaking into quiet moments, catching you off guard when you least expect it. It’s in the way your heart aches during Father’s Day commercials or when a friend talks about their dad being their rock. It’s in the little pang of envy you feel when you see those bonds you never had, knowing they represent something you’ll always yearn for.

I’ve also frequently grieved the way my life could have looked if I didn’t have anxiety. If my depression didn’t make me sleep all day to escape the real world. Sleeping At Last once sang “How do I forgive myself for losing so much time?,” and I can’t help but relate so hard it feels like my heart is going to cave in on itself in pain. 

How do you cope with such grievances? I wish I knew, but I’m learning that coping doesn’t always mean finding answers. Sometimes, it’s about sitting with the pain and letting it exist without trying to solve it. Grieving intangible losses—whether it’s a relationship, a version of yourself, or time you’ll never get back—isn’t something you can fix. It’s something you have to feel, piece by piece, day by day.

For me, part of coping has been allowing myself to mourn without guilt. To acknowledge that these feelings are valid, even if they don’t fit into the conventional mold of loss. I remind myself that grief isn’t a competition—it doesn’t have to be “big enough” or visible to others to matter. It matters because it matters to me.

I also try to focus on what I can rebuild, even if it’s just in small ways. I might never get the father-daughter relationship I longed for, but I can work on fostering meaningful connections with others. I can let myself feel the hurt without letting it harden me. I can remind myself that grieving isn’t about staying stuck in the past—it’s about making peace with it so I can carry it differently.

As for the time lost to anxiety and depression, I try to show myself the same compassion I would offer a friend. It’s easy to blame myself for the days spent hiding under the covers or the moments I missed because I was too overwhelmed to participate in life. But blaming myself doesn’t change the past—it only adds to the weight I’m already carrying. Instead, I try to focus on the moments I can reclaim, even if they’re small. A walk outside, a conversation with a friend, a little step forward.

I think that’s the hardest part about grieving intangible losses: the fact that there’s no closure, no finality. It’s a process, not a destination. It’s messy and nonlinear, and some days it feels like you’re back at the beginning. But even in those moments, there’s a kind of resilience in simply continuing. In saying, “I’m still here, and I’m still trying.”

And maybe that’s enough. Maybe grief doesn’t need to be fixed or resolved—it just needs to be acknowledged. To hold space for what was, what wasn’t, and what still could be. Because in that space, there’s room for healing. There’s room for growth. And maybe, just maybe, there’s room for hope too.