#she was doing everything she could to try to bring him back

[cressidagrey]

I would marry you with paper rings

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary: 

May 2016

How Max Verstappen wins his first f1 race and goes home to show his girlfriend his trophy…and maybe something else too...

December 2024: 

Max brings his family home from the hospital and finally gets to give his fiancée a proper ring. 

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this!

May 2016: 

The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Max Verstappen barely noticed. His ears were ringing, his chest felt tight, and his grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. He barely registered the voice of his race engineer crackling through his headset.

“Unbelievable. Unbelievable, Max.” 

The words didn’t feel real. 

“You are a race winner!”

It felt like they belonged to someone else’s story, someone older, more experienced—someone who wasn’t an 18-year-old kid still trying to figure out the enormity of it all. He blinked hard, trying to process the magnitude of what just happened.

The pit wall erupted in cheers as he drove toward the podium, his hands trembling on the wheel. It wasn’t just any win—it was the win. At 18 years and 227 days old, Max Verstappen had become the youngest race winner in Formula 1 history.

He had done it. 

As the team crowded around him in parc fermé, he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Christian Horner was there to hug him, Helmut Marko clapped him on the back, and Daniel Ricciardo tousled his sweat-soaked hair. The cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing every angle of his historic moment.

And still…the most important person was not there. 

Colette was back in Monaco. 

Hours later, once he finally got to his phone…after he was back in his hotel room, there was a message from her waiting for him. Of course, there was. 

I am so proud of you, Maxie. Soak up every moment, enjoy it. You deserve this, so, so much. We’ll celebrate when you are back home, mon coeur. You were amazing out there today and I love you so much. 

Somehow these 5 sentences meant more to him than any other accolade ever could. 

He stared at the trophy perched on his nightstand. The weight of it—both physical and symbolic—was overwhelming.

He’d spent years working for this moment. His entire life had been shaped around the pursuit of success, of proving he belonged on the top step of the podium. But now that he’d done it? He would give anything to share this moment with the girl he loved. 

Colette had been his constant long before Formula 1 entered the picture. She’d seen him at his worst, supported him when no one else believed in him, and always reminded him of who he was outside the car. 

She was his staunchest supporter and the first person that woul dcall hi out for being an idiot. 

She grounded him, cosetted him, cared for him, cheered for every win and held him after every failure. 

She was the one thing in his life that he could trust unconditionally…that loved him for who he was and not what he could do. 

Of course he had driven this car to victory. And Colettte would never take credit for any of his wins…but Max knew the truth. 

This win wasn’t just his—it was theirs.

The idea hit him in the early hours of the morning, somewhere between the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids.

He needed to show her how much she meant to him, how much he wanted her to be part of this journey—not just as a girlfriend, but as his partner in everything that came next.

But how do you capture something so big?

By 7 a.m., Max was wandering the quiet streets of Barcelona. The city felt different in the early morning light—calm, peaceful. He had no real plan, just an address for a small jewellery store he’d googled hours before.

His Spanish wasn’t great, but he figured he could manage. He needed something. Something to show her just how much she meant to him.

He had bought his sister a handbag the first time he had scored points in F1…but handbag didn’t even come close to being enough for Colette. 

So there he was…in that jewelery store. 

The bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside, and a man behind the counter greeted him warmly, raising an eyebrow at the young man who looked like he hadn’t slept.

“You’re here for something important, aren’t you?” the man asked knowingly, his accent thick but his tone kind.

Max hesitated, glancing down at the glass cases filled with glittering jewellery. He’d never done anything like this before. He had never even bought Colette a pair of earrings on his own. He had bought her other stuff, of course he had. Birthday gifts and stuff for christmas but… “Yeah, uh... I need something… special. For my girlfriend.”

The man smiled knowingly and pulled out a tray of rings. “Something like this?” he asked, gesturing to a selection of delicate designs.

Max’s eyes landed on a gold band with a small, heart-shaped diamond. It wasn’t flashy or oversized—it was understated, elegant, and perfect.

Just like Colette. 

***

Hours later… Max was back in Monaco. 

The trophy tucked under his arm, bag thrown over his shoulder as he unlocked the door to their apartment. 

He wasn’t sure if Colette was already home from work…he hadn’t called ahead telling her either. 

“Max?” and there she was, already dressed in her pyjamas as she stared at him wide-eyed, coming out of the kitchen. 

“I won,” he blurted, grinning like a kid showing off a school project. 

THat was all he needed to say, before she was throwing herself in his arms. His bag hit the floor, as he hugged her and she kissed him, cupping his cheek, rapid fire french that he would never learn to understand as quickly as she spoke it, intermixed with english and her horribly accented dutch. 

And for just a moment Max got to hold his girlfriend…the best trophy he had ever won. 

“I am so proud of you, mon coeur,” Colette whispered and he leaned his forehead against hers, her words a balm to something that he didn’t even know. 

“I brought you something.”

Before she could say anything, he plopped the Pirelli cap on her head, by now dry, though it had been drenched in champagne by Kimi and Seb and he adjusted it until it sat crookedly over her brown curls. “There. Perfect,” he said, his voice raw. 

Perfect. 

Colette laughed, patting it down, and then pulled him into another kiss. “I am so proud. You were incredible this weekend,” she told him fiercely. “Shouldn’t you still be celebrating?” she teased him. 

“I am,” he said, his voice softening. “With you.”

Any celebration with her was better than any other. 

“You want to see the trophy?” he asked her, feeling like a little boy that dragged his karting trophy to Colette for her approval again. 

And just like she had suffered through every time of 12 year old Max showing his trophy off to her…18 year old Max did the same, handing it to her. 

She took it, a metal on metal clink rattling around the inside. 

“What’s...?” she started, tilting the trophy to look inside. Her breath caught, as she fished out the ring from the bottom of it. “Max...”

“It’s not an engagement ring,” he rushed to explain, his cheeks turning pink. “I mean, our fathers would probably kill us both if we got married right now. But it’s... it’s a promise.”

Colette carefully set the trophy down, her hands trembling as stared at the delicate gold ring in the palm of her hand. 

“I wanted you to know that it’s always going to be us,” Max said, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. “Through everything. You and me. This is my promise to you.”

It was always going to be them. Always. 

“I don’t need a fancy piece of paper to tell me what I already know,” Max said softly. “I love you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life with you. In Sickness and In Health and however that whole thing goes.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him, her lips trembling with a smile. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.” 

Colette just looked at him, brown eyes warm and loving…and filled with tears. 

“I do. God, I do,” she promised him fiercely. “Go on then. Put it on me,” she teased him. 

His fingers were trembling when he picked up the ring and slid it on her finger. A perfect fit. Like he had somehow known. 

“This is going to be hard to top one day, you know,” Colette told him, wiggling her fingers, the diamond sparkling on her hand. “You do have exceptional taste in rings.”

Max chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “Challenge accepted.”

December 2024: 

The late December air was crisp as Max carefully carried the baby carrier through the front door of their apartment, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He was used to the precision of controlling a 200-mile-per-hour machine, but carrying his newborn daughter… was an entirely different level of responsibility.

Colette watched the whole thing with some amusement and a whole lot of love. Max had already driven so slowly home from the hospital that there had been multiple blaring car horns behind them, but Max hadn’t cared one bit about that. 

She was tired, her body aching from the delivery, but her heart was so full it threatened to burst.

“Welcome home, ma lutine,” she murmured softly, brushing her fingers over the baby’s tiny hand, as Max set the carrier down on the living room floor. 

Max crouched to unbuckle their daughter, who was snoozing peacefully despite the excitement of the day. “I think she’s already a Verstappen,” he said with a chuckle, glancing up at Colette. “Sleeps through the chaos, just like her dad.”

Colette laughed lightly, shaking her head. “We’ll see how long that lasts,” she teased him. “You gonna get the cats?” she asked.

Max nodded, moving towards the bedroom where he had put them just minutes before. 

Colette heard the door open and seconds later, she could feel two sets of feline eyes were already watching from the bedroom doorway —Jimmy, usually, the more laid back boy…and Sassy, the fierce girl with a name that fit her personality far too well.

“Okay, guys,” Colette murmured. “Be nice. She’s your baby sister now.”

Max crossed back over to them, crouching down beside the seat, unbuckling Charlie with ease, his movements careful and deliberate. “You think they’ll be jealous?” he asked, casting a quick glance at Jimmy and Sassy, who hadn’t moved but were clearly observing every detail.

“They’ll get over it,” Colette said with a soft laugh. “I think Sassy’s already plotting her strategy.”

Sure enough, as soon as Colette lifted Charlie into her arms, Sassy bounded down the stairs, tail high and ears forward. She paused a few feet away, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. 

“Hi, Sassy,” Colette cooed, kneeling down to let the curious cat get a closer look. Sassy tiptoed forward, her tiny paws making no sound on the marble floor. She stopped just short of Colette’s knees and craned her neck, sniffing cautiously at the bundle in her arms.

Charlie let out a soft coo, her tiny fist waving in the air, and Sassy’s ears twitched forward in fascination. Then, in a move that made Colette’s heart melt, Sassy stretched up on her hind legs and gently tapped at the edge of the baby blanket, as if to say, What’s this?

“See? She’s already making friends,” Colette said, grinning as she stroked Sassy’s head.

Max, meanwhile, was coaxing Jimmy towards them. The cat was watching the scene with a skeptical look, his yellow eyes narrowed. “Come on, mate,” Max said, holding out his hand. “She’s not going to steal your spot. I promise.”

Jimmy hesitated for a moment before coming the last few steps. Unlike Sassy, who had no sense of personal space, Jimmy kept his distance at first, circling wide around Colette and Charlie as if evaluating whether this tiny human posed a threat to his kingdom.

“Jimmy, it’s okay,” Colette encouraged, holding out her hand toward him. “Come say hi.”

Eventually, Jimmy padded closer, his movements slow and deliberate. When he finally reached Colette, he sat down primly and stared up at Charlie, his expression one of cautious curiosity.

“She’s not so bad, right?” Max said, crouching down beside Jimmy and scratching behind his ears.

Charlie let out another soft noise, and Jimmy’s head tilted slightly, his ears swiveling to catch the sound. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he leaned forward and gave the edge of the baby blanket a tentative sniff, followed by a single, gentle nudge of his nose.

“Oh, Jimmy,” Colette said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re such a good boy.”

Max laughed, the sound warm and full of love. “I think they’ve decided she can stay,” he said, wrapping an arm around Colette’s shoulders.

Later that evening, after Charlie had been fed and settled into the bassinet they’d placed in the living room, Colette found herself staring at the collection of trophies they kept on the shelves over the TV. Max’s career was neatly cataloged there— All the important wins, each moment of triumph immortalized in gleaming metal and glass.

Charlie stirred softly in her arms, and Colette pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead before stepping closer to the shelves. “Do you see all these trophies, Charlie?” she whispered, swaying gently. “See? these are all Papa‘s,“ Colette cooed. “He has more. These are just the ones that are the most important to him. Your tonton Cha has some too…”

Her eyes slid over the championship trophy from last year…over to the very first one. It was a little scuffed from being handled so many times, but it still gleamed in the soft light of the room. “And this one…this one is extra special. This is from when Papa won his very first race. And do you know what else?” She smiled, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “This is where he hid a ring for me eight years ago.”

She glanced back at her daughter, but Charlie had already drifted back into her newborn sleep, oblivious to her mother’s musings. 

“You didn’t check, did you?” Max’s voice broke the quiet, startling her.

She turned to find him leaning casually in the doorway, his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face. He was still wearing the same hoodie and sweats he’d changed into after coming home from the hospital, but somehow, he looked effortlessly handsome.

“Check what?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“The trophy,” he said, nodding toward the one in her hand. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing it ever since we came home.”

Colette raised an eyebrow. “You tell a girl you hid her engagement ring in there, what did you expect, Verstappen,” she teased him. 

“You are right,” Max agreed seriously, with a nod, plucking Charlie from her arms to put her in the Moses Basket they had put next to the couch.

And then he plucked that trophy from the shelve, only to upend it until a velvet box came tumbling down. 

Colette’s breath caught as he flipped it open to reveal a stunning ring—a delicate gold band, not unlike the one he’d given her all those years ago, but this time, the diamond was much larger, more brilliant. It sparkled in the light, catching every angle perfectly.

Her free hand flew to her mouth as her eyes welled up with tears. “Max…”

“Shush. Let me do this right,” he teased her, as he got down on one knee. “I had this for months,” he told her. “I thought about giving it to you after the Monaco Grand Prix, then after the championship celebration, but none of those moments felt right. This—bringing Charlie home—this feels right.”

Colette could only nod, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“I know we’ve been doing things our own way,” he said with a small smile. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing. But this... this is my way of saying I’m all in, for the rest of my life. With you. With Charlie. With everything that comes next.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she finally found her voice. “You didn’t have to do this. You already gave me everything I ever wanted.”

“And now I’m giving you a little bit more,” he said seriously. “So. Colette Marie Eugénie Veronique Leclerc, will you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Max reached for her left hand, his fingers brushing over hers as he carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, just as she knew it would.

“You even got the order of my names right,” she teased him, as he stood up and he snorted as he pulled her into a hug. 

“Hush,” he gave back, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the trophy forgotten on the shelf and the ring gleaming on her finger.

In the bassinet, Charlie let out a tiny squeak, and they both turned to look at her, their smiles growing.

“She approves,” Colette said with a laugh.

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Of course she does. She’s a Verstappen.”

As they sat down together, Colette resting her head against Max’s shoulder, they couldn’t help but marvel at the life they’d built. 

It had been a long journey to get here, but every step had been worth it.

[littlemisssilvermoon]

Rotating an idea in my head;

Imagine a neglected!Reader who did everything in an attempt to impress their family.

Who got amazing grades and got into high school at age 11.

Who was "a savant beyond their years" and "talented beyond what their age group could be taught".

Skills came easy to them. Give them a year and some encouragement and before you know it they'll have mastered whatever it was.

It wasn't like they could leave the house and hang out with friends. Bruce said that was off the table. It got quiet so often in the manor.

But it wasn't enough

Until someone saw the potential that Batman was just leaving there. Like he wanted someone to just... scoop them up and tutor them.

Their friends and allies and even a few enemies saw the potential. They all agreed to teach them their greatest skill. In a year they've mastered all of them, even surpassing some of them.

Any drug they were developing was improved beyond anything they could've imagined.

Weapons fashioned to fit them far surpassed anything, even the best on the black market.

The Rogue Gallery was beyond impressed.

And Reader was on Cloud Nine with all the attention it was earning them. Head pats, praise, treats. It was more than anything they could've asked for. And even if they didn't have a new invention at the end of the week, so many were willing to just hang out. Without prompting! No "Go bother Alfred" or "I'm busy" or "Another time, chickadee".

Harley had to be reminded that a 12 year old had no business around hyenas, even if Budsie and Louie were on their best behavior. Harley settled for watching old magical girl animes with you.

Luckily, Poison Ivy knew not to bring you around her poisonous plants. Though she did spend a concerning time teaching you exactly what plants were poisonous and how they were poisonous.

Bane taught you everything he knew, from throwing a punch, to how to scare someone off. Granted, a 12 year old, with so much of their baby fat in their cheeks, and wrists as thick as Bane's thumb, looked like a Ragdoll kitten copying a Bengal tiger. He played chess with you too, and he said that given your role in advising, a knight or a bishop would fit you best.

Bane was your favorite. He'd smush your face (gently, you were so tiny he was scared of breaking you), lift you up, even do pushups and pull ups with you on his back.

When Bane told you how he'd saved Alfred once during a collapse of Arkham Asylum, only to be incapacitated once Alfred was "done" with him, it made your blood boil.

As you learned all of their stories, learned the human in all of them, you knew that you were saved from a family with rotten blood. You'd spend your life repaying them, even if they never asked.

--------

Eventually, you decide to follow them into battle. You're kept up and away from the bulk of the battle. This time, it was Joker vs the Batfamily. Tim was unable to track what he'd been trying to do past a few errant clues. It was clear that the Rouge Gallery had a new villain.

You were given direct instructions to watch yourself; Joker wouldn't care enough to tear his eyes off Batman. You already knew that; Harley had spent 3 days trying to convince you to reschedule with someone else, but you told her you wanted Joker, not someone who'd be tempted to glance back and give away your hiding space.

Jason was the one that saw you. You were dressed in a costume that resembled a bishop chess piece with a split full face mask, perched atop a van far from the actual battle. His old scars with Joker made him hesitate, but you looked like a definite person of interest, and everyone else was indisposed.

He ran over, firing rubber bullets as you dodged, eventually tripping and falling off the van. Why were you so small? Jason picked you up, grip just loose enough so you could breathe.

You reached up, pulling your mask off. Jason blanched as he saw your face, soft around the edges and wide eyed.

Bruce told him that he'd stayed away to protect you from the vigilante life. You were the one person who hadn't pushed to join them, so he never told you about missions to avoid any ideas of joining. Jason followed suit, and so did the others. Their lives were busy enough anyways, and you had Alfred when he didn't have something more important to do.

He may have brushed you off more than absolutely necessary, but he wasn't in the right headspace then! You had already grown so much and all he'd wanted by then was vengeance on Batman. You couldn't blame him for keeping his distance at that point. He was protecting you.

But here you were, pinned by the throat by your own brother. Your protector. He released you, taking a step back. He glanced around for an opening, seeing a small alleyway. He gestured over his shoulder for you to follow. "C'mon kid. I'll get you back home and I won't even tell Bruce you snuck out, 'k?"

Suddenly, he felt a prick in his back, shortly followed by a burning itch and ice cold pain. He fell to the ground, trying to reach the spot you pricked.

"Miss Ivy said these were dangerous. Her own home blend. It's a diluted version, so you'll be fine in a few days, Todd" said the much too calm voice above him. He was struggling to breathe around the writhing mass of pain, looking up at you between blinks of tears.

He couldn't scream, he could barely breathe. He could die here and the family wouldn't know until the dust settled.

"It won't kill you, and from the looks of it, they'll be coming to pick you up soon."

"Aren't we family?" He chokes out between gasps. He felt so lost. You were his baby sibling, the tiny thing that'd wander the halls, holding an old chess board as you asked your cool big brother to play with you. The person he kept away from to protect. How could you repay him like this?

Hadn't he done so much for you?

You look at him from the boot of the van. When had you gotten so far away? Your voice is quiet, but it's heard, if barely, over the revving of the engine as Joker's minions prepare to drive away, and the screaming of his name as the rest of the family approaches.

"Were we? I never thought you wanted a baby sibling like me."

-------

The Batfamily took him home and patched him up. The new tech, like all other recent inventions brought in, were so advanced they bordered on state of the art. Even Tim was struggling to decode any of them, with all the kill-switches that seemed to recognize when it wasn't hooked up to the original computer and bricked themselves.

Jason had recovered, like you said, in a few days. Capable of breathing easily in 2 days, regularly needing to be sedated before then, and sitting up without pain by day 5.

The Batfamily had asked him by day 4 about the masked person they had seen next to him. Jason was detached from himself. That face, those eyes. They held no warmth for him, no pity for him while he was writhing in agony at their feet. Like he was less than a stranger.

Like he was less than human in their eyes.

Your name fell off his tongue like lead, slamming against the ground as everyone fell into silence.

"It was them. They gave me that injection. Their face, I-"

"Todd, did the injection give you hallucinations? There was no way that they'd accomplish something like that." Damian raised his brow, checking the chart to make sure the bulk was out of his system.

"I know what I saw. They hadn't even injected me when I saw their face."

"That's impossible, Jay! Look, I'll go to their room and get them right now. They'll probably be pretty cranky since it's, what, 4am?" Dick's footsteps disappeared down the hall.

After a few minutes, Dick came running back, looking at Jason with a mix of shock, horror, and confusion.

Two words.

Two words that finally made them look at you.

Two words that made them realized what they'd missed.

Two words that made them connect the inventions that almost got them killed to the darling child they'd convinced themselves they were protecting with cold shoulders and smothering silence.

Two words that made them refocus their sights on bringing you back.

"They're gone."

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 7

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual content, mental abuse, toxic relationship, language Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: SHE'S BAACKKK!!! omg i missed you guys so much you don't even know! I AM BACK and i'm locked in and i finally got this chapter out for you, ty for being so so patient with me, i will have more time to write for everyone now!! ily guys and tysm for 1k followers, i have a little surprise to you to celebrate that soon :)) ILYM <33

italics are flashbacks

-

Before London

“You buckled up?”

“Yes,” I murmur, crossing my legs and looking out the window. It’s one of those days where it’s been grey and gloomy since the morning. The dark clouds billow in along the horizon, causing an unbearable humidity to fall over Dallas. The weather felt heavy, everyone hoping for a gentle May storm to bring some relief. I could feel sweat growing in my neck, the humidity causing my hair to turn unruly, impossible to manage, dark curls twisting every which way except the direction they were supposed to.

The heaviness was impossible to escape, even in Paige’s car - though I’m not exactly sure if it’s the weather or the tension between us having my stomach doing flips.

“Jesus…” The blonde mumbles to herself when a song by The Weeknd starts playing, nimble hands quickly skipping it.

Since our interrupted moment on my couch we hadn’t talked about it, neither of us wanting to be the first to bring it up. We left it at that, just a moment of weakness between us both, Paige avoiding my gaze whenever she could. The blonde, however, had been growing uncharacteristically more frustrated ever since. Whether because of what happened between us or the game tomorrow, I wasn’t sure.

“So… When’s your dad coming?” I ask carefully, knowing she has been irritated all day. Matter of fact Arike and Lou had warned me about it earlier.

“Tonight, I’ll pick him up from the airport,” she mumbles and then groans, hitting the steering wheel like remembering something. “I was gonna clean before but I forgot.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nah.”

“Paige, I really don’t mind,” I insist, watching the hooper driving with practiced ease in her Nike sweats and a black t-shirt. “I kind of owe it to you since you took care of me…”

Paige’s blue eyes flicker from the road to me, back to the road, face turning red at the memory of us on the couch. Just as she’s about to answer, another song by The Weeknd begins to play.

“This fuckin’ playlist,” Paige groans, quickly skipping every song with any type of sexual implications. It was almost funny, really, the way she was behaving. She’s huffing, fumbling with her phone to change songs before throwing the device to me. “Just put on sumn Iz, please, I’m getting pissed off.”

“I can see that,” I chuckle, picking another list which seemingly is more chill. “Nervous about the game huh?”

“I dunno man,” she mumbles, rubbing her face and leaning back against the seat, jaw clenching. Truthfully, I felt just as frustrated, my mind spinning around how the girl felt on top of me. Everything she did felt so effortless, yet had me probably wetter than I had ever been in my life with such ease. The mere memory had been driving me mad, my own hand trying to relieve the ache between my thighs but with no such luck. Honestly the tension was driving me just as frustrated as Paige is. And God this stupid, overbearing heat, the way it had turned my skin sticky, making it hard to breathe. Paige rubs her own chest, as if feeling the exact same.

Even now, watching the blonde, her veiny hands on the wheel, arms glistening with sweat from the humidity, neck bobbing as she swallows heavily, blonde hair down and straight. all of it had that familiar ache grow between my legs again. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this much.

I lick my lips and move my eyes to the road, beginning to feel flustered. The temptation of toying with the idea of going to bed with the blonde had been growing stronger and stronger, driving me up the wall. Maybe it was time for me to try on someone else. But I felt afraid, it had been years since I slept with anyone else but Jasper. Maybe this could be a good chance to see how it might make me feel? But then again Paige would need to understand that it has to be just sex. Nothing more. No attachment. 

Memories of her filthy words repeat in my head. I swear no one’s ever spoken to me like that before. No one had ever told me such dirty things. It was exhilarating, it had me soaked. 

The drive is quiet, Paige letting out frustrated huffs now and then and chewing on her lower lip.

“Will we still do the pregame interview for socials tomorrow?” I ask.

“Course,” she huffs with annoyance.

“Okay no reason to have an attitude with me now,” I answer, growing a little annoyed or perhaps frustrated too.

She pulls up to our building’s parking lot, exhaling loudly. “You right,” she mumbles and turns to me, face softening exponentially. Paige reaches over, taking both my hands into hers. It’s enough to make my stomach flip. “You right Iz, I’m sorry. Ion wanna be like that with you I just… It’s this damn heat and everything.”

Our eyes lock, and I consider leaning over the center console and kissing her. But I wasn’t brave enough. Not yet, at least.

“It’s okay Paige,” I hum. Slightly hesitantly, the blonde brings my hands up to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to both of them, eyes fluttering shut. I feel the familiar blush build on my cheeks as I watch her, jolts running through my body. No, I’m done being scared. I need her now.

“Can I come over to yours please?” I ask as politely as I can, though the look in my eyes lets Paige know exactly what’s on my mind. I swear I’ve never seen her nod so quickly, barely letting my words sink in. She clumsily climbs out of the car, practically running to my side to open the door and helping me out. The blonde’s steps are hurried, long strides making it hard for me to keep up as we climb to her floor, a slight grin on my face as I watch the eagerness in which she was moving with. 

Paige’s hands scramble with the lock, the key shaking a little in her hand as she finally opens the door, allowing me in first. My stomach starts to twist, and there’s a burn spreading around my upper thighs as I take off my heels, suddenly significantly shorter than the blonde girl following on my tail.

I hear the door close and turn around, chest heaving much like Paige’s is as I watch her blue eyes roaming my body, the black pencil skirt and the body hugging maroon short-sleeved top, her gaze landing on my face, mouth already agape and breaths growing heavy. 

For a moment we just breathe, our eyes locked on each other, taking the moment in. The tension, the pent up frustration, the need we have for each other, until the blonde snaps and pushes me into the wall which feels cold against my warm back. Paige’s hands land on my waste as our lips crash into a messy, sloppy, needy kiss. A type of kiss I had never had before. It leaves me breathless, my arms wrapping around her shoulders, long fingers wrapping into her hair and pulling the girl closer. She moves her lips off mine, beginning to trail to my neck, hands on my waist travelling downwards to my ass, groaning as she feels it under her grip. 

“W-wait,” I gasp breathlessly, legs already beginning to shake. 

“Mhm,” Paige hums against my skin, lips never quitting working on my neck. 

“I- fuck,” I whimper. “I just need you to know that this has to be just sex.”

Without even thinking I feel the blonde nod, lips sucking right below my ear. “Okay, whatever you want Iz.”

I pull her away from my neck by her hair, meeting her eyes. “I’m serious. Just sex.”

Paige’s eyelids are heavy, the normally bright blue of her eyes turning dark with lust as she gazes down at me. “Izara, I mean it. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be okay?”

When those words leave the blonde’s mouth I nearly crumble to the ground. I can’t wait for a second longer, the wetness pooling between my legs enough proof of that.

“Take me to bed,” I tell the younger girl, who picks me up with ease as my legs wrap around her torso. She kisses me hungrily, our tongues meeting in a battle for dominance which the blonde soon wins as she places me down on her bed softly, my skirt now hiked up halfway up my thighs.

For a moment Paige stands above me, eyes roaming my body as she shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re so beautiful,” she mumbles, then climbs on top of me, her right hand hiking my skirt all the way up, revealing my lacy red panties. When Paige notices, she lets out a groan, practically drooling but working hard to pace herself.

“Take this off,” I murmur, yanking on Paige’s t-shirt.

“Yes ma’am,” she replies, pulling it over her head and onto the floor. I watch the way her muscles in her abdomen clench and I can’t help but drag my fingernails along it as she sits up on top of me, straddling me while I lie flat against the soft blanket.

“Fuck,” she moans hoarsely, throwing her head back, her hands inching underneath my top.

“Would you like it off?” I ask, chest heaving.

“Yes. Please.”

I pull the top off, the blonde’s fingertips leaving tingles as they drag over my ribs. Somehow I don’t feel nervous, all my anxious thoughts left the second I felt Paige on me again.

“Goddamn…” The girl sighs, her hand dragging to my matching lace bra and palming my round breast, making me whimper. I pull her down by the chain on her neck, kissing her feverishly, my underwear growing wetter with every passing moment, mind spinning with need. As I let out a whine, Paige gets the hint, her right hand dragging down my body to my bare thigh and squeezing. 

My back arches off the bed, another whine spilling from my lips but quickly silenced by the blonde’s kiss, her fingers trailing up my inner thigh torturously slowly.

“Paige,” I cry out.

“Tell me what you want?” Paige asks, her voice gravelly in a way I haven’t heard before.

“You to touch me,” I whimper, my brows furrowing with need. “Please.”

“So polite ma,” she grins, beginning to kiss my neck, inching downwards my body to my breasts. “I’mma take good care of you baby, don’ worry.”

My legs spread wider in anticipation as her lips trail downwards along my stomach. I can feel my head spinning, unable to accept that this is real and actually happening. That I would finally find relief to the awful ache inside me.

Faint giggles take me out of the moment, snapping me back to reality. I must’ve imagined - no wait, I can definitely hear giggles. “Paige,” I say.

“Mhm,” she hums, kissing along my inner thighs now.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what,” she mumbles against my skin, nuzzling it, her eyes finally opening when I sit up.

“Listen,” I complain, pushing her off by her forehead to make her pay attention.

“I hear nothin, just lie down and re-”

It’s clear. The sound coming from the front door. Paige’s front door, someone fumbling with the key in the keyhole, turning it and-

“What the fuck?” Paige asks, abruptly getting off me and hurrying to the door of her bedroom, peeking into the corridor in her sports bra and sweats. I get up too, pulling my skirt down, wanting to cry with frustration.

-

There they are. By my doorstep. KK, Ice, Azzi, Jana and Ash, holding balloons and banners and other decorations, giggling amongst each other.

“I- wh- KK? Ice? A- how did y’all get in?” I ask, eyes flickering between the girls and Izara in the bedroom, pulling her skirt down and throwing her top on frantically. 

“Why aren’t you at practice?”

“It ended early,” I say, my voice rising uncharacteristically as I attempt to steady my breathing from what almost just happened. How close I was to getting what I had been craving for weeks. I loved these girls but, God could I kill them right now. “How the hell do y’all got a key to my place??”

“Oh it’s your dad’s,” Azzi giggles. “We were gonna surprise you, he’s downstairs.”

Oh so not only my girls but my dad was gonna arrive at the scene. With a girl in my bedroom. I glance at Iz, who’s fixing her hair in the mirror, but she looks completely fucked out. And I bet I do too. I had no idea how to explain myself out of this one.

“Wh-” I start

“Yeah why aren’t you hugging us and shit? You forget all about us?” KK huffs.

I rub my face, letting out a heavy exhale when Izzie walks out of the bedroom into the eyeline of the group of girls. All their eyes widen, and I can’t ignore the shared looks between them. Quick, Paige, say something.

“Uhh, guys this is Iz- I mean, Zari, she uh, was over to uh…” I scratch the back of my neck, KK already covering her mouth trying not to laugh.

“I just needed to borrow…” Izzie’s eyes scan the room. “Paige’s lamp! Mine broke, so. Couldn’t see to read my book.” Her face is bright red, the usual composure with which she presented herself completely gone. I almost groan at the excuse but realise that would just make the situation seem a million times worse.

“Yes! She was! Uh let me get it for you,” I mumble, about to walk into the bedroom to actually grab a lamp for the girl.

“No no! You say hi to your friends, I can do it myself!”

I wanna bury my face into my hands and go back into the bedroom and lock the door and never come out. All the girls are staring with amused faces, hands holding balloons and flyers and little decorations in preparation for my first game tomorrow, clearly suspicious of us two. Just when I think it can’t get worse, my dad - yes my dad - walks in.

“Why are you girls all- Oh hi, don’t you have practice?” He asks, holding a cake.

I rub the bridge of her nose, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this point.

“Got home early,” I sigh, too flustered to even enjoy the fact that my best friends and my dad were here to see me.

“This girl here is borrowing a lamp,” KK mumbles under her breath to my dad, trying to hold in her snickers. What a stupid excuse. I thought Izzie was supposed to be smart. Borrowing a lamp, what kinda excuse was that?

My dad’s eyes land on Izzie, flickering between me and her and the awkwardly large distance between us as if that might help us look less suspicious. Though based on the small grin on my dad’s face, I can tell it’s doing the exact opposite.

“I’m Bob, Paige’s dad,” my dad slides inside through the girls who are eyeing the situation with amused expressions, shaking hands with Iz like I wasn’t just between her legs ready to do something unimaginable.

“Hey, I’m Izara. I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

“Izara huh?” He turns to me with a sly grin, something I’d inherited. “You haven’t mentioned an Izara?”

“She prefers Zari,” I correct, trying to avoid his eye. “She does media for the Wings.”

For a moment everyone’s quiet, multiple pairs of eyes staring at me, then Zari, then me again. The silence lingers, bordering on uncomfortable when to everyone’s relief KK speaks.

“Bro we don’t even get a hug or nothing?”

-

She’s there, sitting on my couch, in between Ice and Azzi and laughing that sweet giggle of hers. She looks comfortable, already gaining the approval of my friends with ease. We’re sitting in a circle around the coffee table eating pizza, easy conversation flowing between everyone. But all I could pay attention to was the brunette girl, how easily she fit in, how she had already charmed the hell out of my dad. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs at my friends’ stupid jokes, or the coy smile on her perfect lips when my dad asks her a question. I needed her, badly, even more than before if possible. 

“Excuse me, I need some water,” Izara catches my eye and excuses herself to the kitchen. Without a word I get up, following on her trail like a puppy. I know everyone notices us leaving, but I don’t care. I wanted to take every second to be with her, to touch her, to have her to myself.

“Hey,” I mumble, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she looks through my cupboards for glasses.

“Hey,” she hums with a smile. I walk to the girl, pressing my front into her back as I reach for a glass in the cupboard above us.

“Oh, thank you,” Izzie says, her voice shaky as my hand lands on her waist. The girls’ voices are loud but distant, echoing around the sparsely furnished living room. So in a moment of weakness I allow my head to tilt down into the crook of Izara’s neck, inhaling the fruity, gentle jasmine scent of her perfume, nuzzling my nose against her goosebump forming skin. I feel her shift, the curve of her ass pressing against me as I allow my lips to press soft kisses onto her golden skin.

The dark haired girl lets out a shaky breath and the sound drives me wild, it taking every drop of my self discipline not to make everyone leave just so I could have my way with her, just to make her feel good. Izzie’s head tilts back, resting against my chest as I bite on her shoulder, my lips gliding and leaving sloppy kisses on her neck.

“Paige,” she whispers chuckling, clearly torn between asking me to stop and asking for more.

“You’re fucking killing me,” I murmur into her ear, my voice hoarse and trembling with need. 

The girl turns around, her green, emerald eyes wider than usual looking up at me as her hand moves onto my chest. I let my fingertips slide underneath the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft skin there. “We’ll have time. Later,” she comforts me softly, but it’s not enough.

I throw my head back in frustration and groan, like a child not getting their way.

“Izzie I’m so forreal, I need to have you before the game tomorrow or I’mma be so out of it.”

The girl giggles, shaking her head, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Come over in the morning?”

“I gotta leave at 10. Needa take my time with you.”

Izzie chuckles. “Okay, 8:30?”

“8:00,” I argue, though no amount of time would be enough.

“Do you need two hours?” The girl laughs but I shake my head, trying to stifle the grin on my face.

“Ion need more than five minutes ma, trust,” my words make Izzie’s cheeks turn a shade of red. “But need to take my time. Wanna do it just right.”

Izara might be poised and have a great poker face, but I can tell she needs it as bad as I do. It’s in the way her chest is heaving, the way her pupils are wide and the way her mouth is parted. So I lean in, my lips hovering over her ear.

“Gonna eat that pussy so good ma, gonna have you crying-”

“Yooo…”

I pull away urgently, helped by the fact that Izzie practically pushes me off her, both our heads turning to KK standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh.

“Uhh, I’mma be back,” she says turning around but I grab the shorter girl by the arm and pull her back in.

“Whatchu need?”

Izzie is blushing, trying to hide the smile growing onto her face by holding her hand over her mouth and staring at the wall.

“A tissue, I dropped some food,” KK says.

I gasp. “Bro not on the rug right?”

KK scoffs, grabbing the tissue from me. “Dallas changed you already ‘cause why you care about a rug more than me?”

-

Paige

Yo I’m so sorry I gotta head in early

That’s okay Paige, good luck. I’ll see you before the game, yeah?

I reread the texts on my screen that I never got an answer to. I’m not worried, she’s probably nervous. Or busy. But it’s so… unlike her. Paige was usually the one to message me back the moment I texted her. I was probably overthinking. I hated how I got when I liked someone. Not that I liked Paige. I wanted her badly. But there were no feelings involved and there surely could never be. I wasn’t even close to being ready.

Despite all that I could feel an uncomfortable twist somewhere deep in my stomach watching the way the blonde girl had left me on read. Like I always did when I began to get feelings. I was painfully aware of how scary it was, those feelings stirring within me again. I just had to keep them in control. I know how these things end. I know Paige seems amazing right now - unreal almost. But it was just an illusion. Soon she’d be bored of me, leaving me in tears, crying myself to sleep at 3am. That’s how it always ended up. I promised myself I’d never be that girl again.

-

“Jasper, please, could we just sit down and communicate?”

My voice is steady, gentle, like it had to be when he was in one of these moods. I sit on the couch, watching as he paces around me, trying not to blow up. I try to make myself small, breathe quiet, not look him in the eye, anything that might set him off. Once Jasper was set off there was nothing to do. I knew that better than anyone.

“Here we go again,” he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. A bitter, sarcastic laugh escapes his mouth.

“No, not like that, please. I swear I just want to talk-”

“No Izara you want to bitch about my drinking again. You’re behaving like a controlling bitch-”

There’s a pang of pain in my chest, the tears I’ve been swallowing making themselves known as my eyes grow wet.

“Please, Jasper, I’ve asked you before not to call me that,” I plead, my voice still soft but growing weaker.

The man rolls his eyes at the sight of me. “Wow, here we go again. Poor Zari, always perfect, always the victim.”

“I never said I was perfect, far from it! I’m just asking you to not call me a bitch,” I debate, my voice rising in response to feeling defensive.

“I didn’t even say you were a bitch! I said you’re behaving like one!” His voice is harsh, cutting through the air and ringing my ear painfully. Familiarly. This was a discussion we’d had about 15 times before. And it always went the same. I don’t even know why I was still trying. 

“God, you’re so manipulative, trying to put words into my mouth,” he murmurs under his breath. He’d said those words so many times part of me had started to think he might be right. Maybe I am manipulative. Maybe I need to just let him be. I’m being dramatic and his drinking wasn’t an issue. Jasper never physically hurt me or hit me. It could be so much worse. Words can only do so much.

I feel the tears spill over finally, dripping down my cheeks. As Jasper notices he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “What, you’re crying now? Like you’re the victim here?”

“Jasper, please, I’m tired,” I cry, my voice shaky as I bury my face into my hands. “Can we just forget this and go to sleep? I’ve got that important meeting tomorrow.”

“Well probably should’ve thought of that before, huh? Before starting all this drama for nothing!”

“I just wished you wouldn’t have been so drunk tonight! I was having a hard day, I needed you with me!” I finally snap, yelling back. I never yell, but sometimes with Jasper it felt like it was the only way for him to hear me. Even though I always hated myself afterwards.

“So what? I’m a bad boyfriend? Worst boyfriend in the world?”

“No, that’s not what I said-”

“Fine, if I’m so bad I’ll leave,” Jasper simply says. walking to the entryway, grabbing his coat off the coat rack. Urgently, I get up and run after him, panic spreading all over me. He knew this triggered me. He did this every time he was about to “lose” one of our fights. Because it hurt me the most.

“Wait, wait wait wait,” I cry, my voice weak and trembling as I grab his arm. “Please no, don’t go, please, Jasper, please.”

He ignores me, pulling his arm out of my reach and looking for his keys.

“Jasper,” I sob, legs too shaky to hold me up anymore. I fall to my knees, trying not to throw up all over the man. “Jasper, please. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m too hard on you. You’re so wonderful to me. I love you okay, I love you. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

The man finally turns, looking down at me and shaking his head as my wide eyes blink up at him. With a deep sigh, he puts down his keys and lifts me up from the ground.

“Are you done?” He asks, voice frustrated and tired.

I nod, tears still spilling from my eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go. Please.”

“I won’t Izara, but these fits of yours need to end,” Jasper says as his comforting, familiar arms wrap around me.

“You’re right, Jasper. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

-

My cab finally pulls up to College Park Center, and I quickly slide in through the side door, making my way through the confusing corridors with practiced ease now. I wanted to find the blonde girl, just to make sure she was okay. Just to see her before the game. I check the gym, the weight room, the dining hall but see no sign of her. Finally, as a last resort, I knock on the door of the dressing room, shifting on my feet and smoothing over my black mini skirt and the red sweater hanging off my right shoulder nervously. At last the door opens, Lou peeking her head out with a smile.

“Oh hey.”

“Hey Lou, happy game day!” I greet her, trying to not make it obvious I was looking for someone. Like I was just casually there to wish the girls good luck.

“Thanks Zari, big day,” the girl smiles, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh, uh, is um, is-”

“Paige is here, you need her?” I don’t miss the grin on the brunette’s face, the knowing look she has in her eyes. Thought I had been hiding it better with Paige, apparently not.

“Yes, actually I do,” I chuckle awkwardly, clasping my hands in front of me, acrylics scratching against my skin. My heart races as I wait, my stomach turning at the idea of seeing her. Seeing Paige.

Soon the blonde girl arrives at the door, but the familiar wide smile isn't there. Her eyes look red, tired, the skin darker than usual underneath, mouth in a straight line. 

“Paige, are you okay?” I ask, taken back by her appearance.

She looks at me for a while, blue eyes landing on mine, big hand rubbing her jaw. “I’m alright.”

I can tell that she’s not. 

“Paige,” I repeat, looking at her challengingly. The blond sighs and shrugs and it’s then I notice the shaking of her hands. Uncontrollable, clearly visible. “Whoa, what’s going on darling?”

She looks back into the changing room before stepping out, shaky hand rubbing her eyes. I don’t miss the slight tremble of her lower lip, the way her blue eyes grow glossy.

“Whoa, hold on love,” I coo, grabbing a hold of her hand and pulling her into a new corridor, opening the door to the often empty media team office to find it desolate of people once more. “Come on.”

I close the door behind us and watch closely as the blonde plots herself down on the couch, chest heaving fast. 

“Paige, talk to me,” I comfort her, following behind and sitting next to her. As the blonde lifts her blue eyes off the floor, I see she’s tearing up avoiding my gaze.

“I’m so fucking scared Iz,” she admits, lower lip quivering. My heart fills with affection, and instinctively I wrap my arms around her broad, bare shoulders in her sports bra. 

“Of what?”

“Of screwing up, everyone got crazy expectations. Everyone gonna be watching,” Paige sighs, sniffling weakly. I had never seen her like this, in my head she wasn’t afraid of anything. Guess I was wrong.

“Paige,” I begin, pulling back and grabbing hold of her warm hands. “It’s a big moment, it’s okay to be nervous, to be scared even. But you’re not gonna fail. The only expectations that matter are the ones you put on yourself.”

“I don’t know, I love my girls y’know but fuck I don’t need em here today,” she sighs, wiping a tear from her left cheek. I let my thumb help her a little, brushing against her soft skin. 

“They wanted to surprise you, they love you very much, you know?”

“I know,” Paige murmurs, her thumbs rubbing the skin of my palms. “But I just needed to focus on myself today. I dunno, just feel really fucking overwhelmed.”

“Hey,” I stop her, chasing her gaze. The blonde’s blue eyes meet mine, finally softening. “You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to pretend it’s just you and your team at practice. No audience today, no one you know watching. Just you. And whether you get none of your shots in or all of them, it’s okay. And you get to try again. You’re just dipping your toes in okay? This isn't the defining moment of your career. It’s just one of many.”

Paige listens and takes every word in, processing as her eyes remain locked in mine. Finally her brows soften and she lets out a final, relieved breath. 

“My dad really liked you, talked about you all night after you left.”

“Really?” I grin, making the blonde nod with a smile. 

“My friends too, they wanna get to know you better,” Paige adds. I feel a slight panic in my chest for a moment, the fear of what Paige might’ve said to her friends about us. After all, we had agreed to be just friends despite everything. I hope she didn’t have the wrong idea that I might change my mind.

“Wish I had time to come see you this morning.”

I feel my cheeks heat up immediately. “Yeah?”

She nods, a small grin growing on her face. “Yeah, wouldn’t be feeling so tense.”

I chuckle as her hands let go of mine, landing on the back of my head and pulling me into a sweet, caring kiss that takes me by surprise. But I can’t bear to pull away, nor do I want to. So for a moment we kiss, our lips moving together sending jolts all over my body as the blonde’s hand lowers to my waist and pulls me closer to her. Without a thought my body obeys, skirt hiking up as she pulls me on top of her to straddle her.

Both of our breathing grows heavier as the kiss turns more urgent, Paige exhaling loud through her nose as her hand finds the soft skin of my bare upper thigh, grabbing it needily making me wince. I could feel my arousal pooling between my legs once more, the blonde’s hand sliding upwards until her thumb meets the sheer fabric of my panties, pressing against my clit. We both let out a quiet, desperate whimper, me from the contact, her from how wet I already was. 

This wasn’t sensible, anyone could walk in. Paige’s first ever game in the league would start in only a few hours and she had just been crying from feeling so overwhelmed. But both of us had forgotten, too consumed by the lust that had been eating us alive. I needed her. She needed me.

Paige pulls away from the kiss, long eyelashes blinking at me and pink lips slightly parted. She looked beautiful, like she was already completely out of it. 

“Need to feel you ma, please let me,” she whines, looking for any sign of approval on my face. “Need to feel this pussy around my fingers.”

No one had ever spoken in such a filthy way to me before. And it drove me crazy. The sheer dirtiness of the things Paige said, the way her voice turned hoarse and whiny, the way she really, truly behaved like she would die unless she got to fuck me. I had never experienced it before. Everything about it intoxicated me, my soaked panties prove of how much so.

“Paige, are you sure this is smart?” I ask, my voice weak and shaky.

“Ion care about smart, need to fuck you before my big game,” the blonde murmurs, beginning to kiss my neck, fingertips rubbing gentle circles on my clit against the fabric. “Please mama, need to make you cum, that’s all I want.”

I let out another whimper, her words winning me over.

“C’mon ma, can feel how wet you are for me. Lemme help baby, lemme take care of you.”

Finally I snap, desperately nodding. Without missing a beat, Paige’s fingers hook around the edge of my panties, pulling them to the side as I stay straddling her, feeling the cool air on my dripping cunt.

“This ain’t right. I gotta see that shit,” Paige murmurs and before I understand what she means, she’s pushing me back, my spine hitting the couch as she remains still, my thighs spread wide for her as she sits in between.

Paige’s blue eyes are nearly blown out black with lust as her gaze travels slowly from my flushed face, to my heaving chest, down my stomach, all the way to the panties slid to the side, finally landing on my core. I swear I have never seen the girl so dazed, like everything around her disappeared, her lips parting further, tongue darting out to lick them.

“Fuck,” she whispers, fingers spreading my lips apart to see my wetness glistening in the lighting of the office. To see my folds and the way I was already throbbing for her. I had never been looked at like that before, yet didn’t feel shy or unsure. Because I could tell Paige was in absolute awe.

“So fucking pretty, huh?” The blonde asks, finger carefully brushing up and down against my folds and clit, making my whole body shiver. She was barely touching me yet I couldn’t fight the whine spilling from my lips. This was so unlike me, spread out in overhead lighting in a room anyone could walk into at any moment with a girl I hadn’t even been out on a date with. But it was the last thing I cared about. I needed Paige Bueckers to fuck me now.

“Paige, fuck me,” I demand, my voice breathy and brows furrowed as I watch her.

A sly grin forms on her lips as she gathers wetness through my folds with ease, beginning to circle my clit lazily. The sound is obscene, caused by how slick I had grown for her in the past few minutes. I moan softly, covering my own mouth and letting my eyes fall closed.

“What do you need? Tell me baby,” Paige coos, but she knows. She can see the way my pussy is clenching around nothing, crying for her, begging to be filled. 

“Baby,” I whimper, bucking my hips but the blonde’s free hand brings me down by my thigh.

“Use your words ma.”

“Inside,” I whisper, cheeks growing redder at having to tell the girl with words what I needed from her.

“Yeah? You need my fingers inside your pussy?”

I nod, the words making my arousal grow even more.

“Please,” I add, hoping to hurry the blonde along.

Suddenly, Paige’s fingers slide downwards towards my entrance, circling before two of them begin to break into me, painfully slowly. A loud gasp threatens to spill from my lips but the blonde covers my mouth quickly, her fingers sliding into me all the way. 

It’s impossible to describe how good it feels, to feel her touch me like this. The stretch of her fingers making my body tense and relax simultaneously. I was in heaven, surely sex never felt like this before. Only with her.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” Paige hisses, beginning to curl her fingers against me. The sound of squelching quickly takes over, only joined with both our moans. My back arches desperately, and I feel myself writhing for more, for the blonde to move faster.

It’s in the moment I’m about to start begging for more, the familiar sound of a keycard being slid against the reader takes over. Someone’s about to open the door. Both of us panic, Paige pulling her fingers away and quickly getting up from the couch as I struggle to get off my back, pulling my skirt down eagerly right as Trey walks in.

“Oh hey!” He smiles widely, oblivious to the heavy breathing me and Paige are both trying to get under control. “Oh Paige! Whatchu doing here?”

“Uh,” she murmurs, fingers still glistening with me before she wipes them on her thigh. “We uh,”

“We were planning that pregame interview! Should we film it soon?” I quickly interrupt, noticing Paige’s flustered expression. The shake in my legs is obvious, so I lean against the wall next to me.

“Yeah yeah, the interview,” the blonde murmurs which makes Trey’s brown eyes light up.

“Well great! Why don’t you go change and we film after.”

Paige glances at me as I do her, both of us trying to ignore the tension in the room that the man seemed to not recognise.

“Uhh yeah, lemme go do that,” the taller girl mumbles and leaves, my heart pounding faster than ever from earlier. As she closes the door, Trey turns to me.

“By the way Zari, we shouldn’t let anyone back here that isn’t part of the team, okay? Linda would freak.”

“Oh,” I say, brushing my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Trey looks at me for a while, leaning back against the desk behind him.

“You know, it’s okay to be friends with players but I think it’s better to keep things at a professional distance. Don’t wanna be getting too close, you know what I mean?”

I can tell he’s digging for something, trying to get me to fess up. Instead I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Agreed, shall we prepare the interview?”

-

“Okay, Paige, stand here.”

Trey is maneuvering the blonde around, trying to find the best lighting as I check my notes over and over, my mind still swirling with all the interrupted moments that are growing tiresome. Paige is fiddling with her hands, staring at anything but me feeling just as frustrated by the interruption.

“Ahh, got it. Zari, would you.”

“Yes,” I murmur and step next to the blonde, a slight awkward distance between us. Every cell in me was itching to get closer, to press into her. I was dying for her. But it wasn’t the time. I had to focus on work. It was just hard to look away from her. That’s it.

“Closer Zari,” Trey chuckles, reaching for my shoulder and pushing me closer to Paige. We exchange an awkward, slightly giddy smile and I can tell the girl is beginning to blush, our shoulders pressing together. The blonde gazes upwards towards the low ceilings of the corridor, trying to kill the smile growing on her face.

“Okay, we good?” Trey asks, and I let out a soft giggle. Paige looks at me and giggles too, confusing the man behind the camera. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, we’re good,” I giggle, looking to the floor. The blonde nods in agreement, licking her lips to stifle the grin.

“Whenever you’re ready ladies,” Trey says, pressing record.

I take a deep breath, turning my eyes to the blue ones beside me. The ones I could get lost in forever. But now wasn’t the time. Not the time Izara. Work.

“I am here with our dear rookie, Paige,” I smile, licking my lower lip and looking away from the blonde, her intense gaze becoming too much. “First game today, how are we feeling?”

Paige kisses her teeth and sighs. “Oh man,” she starts, blue eyes boring into the side of my face. “It feels surreal, I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life and now it’s finally here. Feelin’ really blessed and fortunate for sure. Playing my first against the Lynx just feels right, you know.”

I watch as her lips move, the way the edges of them curve when she speaks, barely registering the words coming out from how badly I needed her. 

“Favourite thing about Dallas so far?” I ask, crossing my arms and smiling up at the blonde. Her blue eyes are sparkling, a slight glimmer in them as she watches me with a smirk. As if the camera wasn’t filming every moment.

“Oh definitely the ribs,” Paige grins, suddenly interrupted by Arike standing at the other end of the corridor.

“Yooo, bro what?!” 

Me and Paige both begin to laugh, leaning into each other as we do. My hand instinctively graces her forearm as Trey pangs the camera to Arike.

“Alright, alright. And Arike,” Paige chuckles, making me scoff.

“Oy!” I shout, slapping her arm playfully.

“And you!” She grins, raising her hands in defeat. I can’t help the blush covering my face or the stupid smile stretching across.

“As I should be,” I joke, taking a deep breath and trying to remind myself of the planned questions and of Trey’s watchful eyes. It felt impossible under Paige’s gaze so intensely roaming my face, eye fucking me.

“You’ve got some friends and family in the audience tonight, who are you most excited to see you play tonight?”

The blonde looks at me for a meaningful moment, and I don’t miss what she wants to say. What she’s trying to express with her eyes. What she can’t admit in front of Trey.

“Uhh,” she blinks stupidly, finally breaking eye contact. “Probably my dad, yeah. But I’m excited to play for all the Wings fans too, needa impress them.”

“I’m sure you will,” I smile, my tone clearly flirty yet I don’t even recognise the fact. “Happy game day!!”

“Happy game day,” Paige echoes my words, wrapping an arm around my shoulder just as Trey puts the camera down. Yet the man keeps staring over at the two of us, studying every move, every exchanged look.

“Paige! Go change and let’s start warming up, c’mon!” Chris nods the blonde towards the lockers. I see her eyes turn to me once more, softening. 

“Wish me luck ma,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I let her.

“Good luck Paige,” I mumble into her eyes, letting go and watching as she walks into the dressing room, leaving me alone with Trey. I could feel nerves bubbling in my stomach, heart beginning to pound in anticipation for the game. The man watches me for a while, deep in thought.

“Zari…. I gotta ask you something,” the man starts, his voice echoing in the corridor. He walks us to our office letting me know this wasn’t going to be a light subject, which made me nervous.

I sit on the desk, my legs hanging off as I cross them and watch the brunette pace around the room for a moment before turning to me. 

“Is there something going on with you and Paige?”

Fuck.

I think about lying, looking through my brain for any cover up story. There isn’t one. I was a horrible liar anyway. So I just sigh, looking down before nodding.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean for there to be but I like her. She likes me,” I admit, carefully looking at the man. “Look, it’s nothing though. Nothing serious, just fun.”

“For fucks sake Zari,” Trey sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“Excuse me?” I ask offended. Sure, it wasn’t great, but he was hugely overreacting.

Trey walks over to me and grabs a hold of my hands, stopping much too close to my liking.

“Zari, Linda is very… strict. You know this. But she does not allow anything like this, she must’ve told you? She gave me this big speech too when I came in.”

I blink at him, my lips parting a little. It wasn’t allowed. That’s it. That simple.

“Wh- no she never said,” I murmur. Trey nods, letting out a sigh.

“Zari you have to end it. You could get fired.”

My heart drops, mind starts spinning. I could get fired. Have to go back to the UK. Just like that. Fired. Just because I didn’t have the self-discipline to resist Paige.

“Trey, you’re not going to-”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. Linda won’t know. But only if you end it now, okay? If she finds out I know I could get in trouble too.”

I look at the walls, covered in pictures of the entire Dallas Wings overtime, faces changing and some persisting year after year. I finally land on this year’s picture, on the blonde standing on the right side, smiling that familiar, wide, charming smile. It didn’t matter how much I liked her, how badly I needed her on me. None of it would matter if I got fired, if I got my visa revoked. I couldn’t do this dance we’d been playing the past month anymore. I had to end it.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[burningembers91]

Birthday Girl - Cho Sang-Woo x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Biggest Regret

What Makes You Happy

Not Like You

Synopsis: it’s your birthday, but everything about the day reminds you of the man who left you. When he shows up to your party, emotions reach boiling point.

It was your birthday today. You’d always loved your special day, and Cho Sang-Woo had always enjoyed spoiling you when it came around. He remembered your last birthday together; he was up to his neck in debt but he still wanted you to have the best day. He bought you a bouquet of flowers and a necklace from a boutique that you liked. He cooked for you because he couldn’t afford to take you out, and then he made love to you in the bed you’d shared, his tongue tracing circles over your clit as you fell apart for him again and again.

He thought about that day a lot. Thought about how beautiful you’d looked, how sweet you’d sounded as he drew your pleasure from you in shuddering moans. He wondered what you’d be doing today, whether Jason would be taking you out. He hadn’t seen you since you’d kissed him, since he’d rejected you yet again and walked away. It had broken his heart to do it, and for a while he’d seriously wondered what the point was in continuing life. He couldn’t face this world without you; he’d been nothing but a shell for the last two years. You had been everything to him, you still were, and he’d walked away from you.

He’d overheard his mum saying you were planning on going out tonight. She’d seen you around a few times, and couldn’t resist meddling. You were both so unhappy, the light faded from your eyes, and it broke her heart. You and her son were meant to be together, but you were both too stubborn to realise it.

“I heard she’s headed to that bar she likes. What’s it called again? Glow, or something like that?”

Sang-Woo had spent many a night in there with you, drinking cocktails and dancing. He hated dancing, hated it with a fiery burning passion but you made it seem more bearable. When money had been good, he’d buy your friends the most expensive champagne, toasting to you. He’d give anything to be back on that dance floor with you, just one more time.

You weren’t looking forward to your birthday this year. Your meeting with Sang-Woo had broken you, and you’d spent the last few weeks being an absolute bitch. You were a bitch to Jason, a bitch to your friends, and a bitch to your colleagues. He’d rejected you again and it had hurt more than the first time had. You and Jason were constantly fighting, screaming matches that lasted into the early hours of the morning. You weren’t happy with him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go. It was selfish of you, but you were scared to be on your own.

Despite your less than stellar attitude, your friends were determined to take you out. You hadn’t told them about Sang-Woo because you knew exactly what they’d say, but not being able to tell anyone was killing you. They were taking you to Glow, the place you’d used to love so much. But now it held nothing but heartache for you, full of memories of you and Sang-Woo.

But you forced yourself to get ready, applying your makeup while you downed half a bottle of wine. Jason was coming too, persuaded by your friends. He knew the relationship was ending, but like you, he didn’t want to be alone.

You drank more than you should have that night, you and Jason getting into yet another screaming match. Your friends didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help. They hadn’t seen you like this since you’d been left at the altar and they didn’t know how to help you.

Sang-Woo was sitting outside the club, a cigarette perched between his lips. He didn’t know why he was here, but it was like his feet automatically guided him to you. He was trying to get up the courage to go in, to see if he could find you. He didn’t know exactly what he’d say, but he couldn’t seem to leave you alone. It was torture, the self-inflicted kind that ripped at his soul, tearing him in two. He’d left you twice, and yet he was unable to stay away.

You stormed out of the front doors, tears streaming down your face. You were so angry, so upset and the fact you couldn’t tell anyone was killing you. You felt like you were about to implode, the weight of your emotions suffocating you. You’d left your friends and you boyfriend staring dumbstruck after you, watching you stagger off the dance floor. The song you always danced to with Sang-Woo had started playing, and that had been the final straw.

He saw you exit the club, saw you tumble down the stone steps. He ran forward, hoisting you to your feet, his eyes full of concern.

“What are you doing here?” You cried, “can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just… my mum told me where you were and I… I couldn’t help myself.” He took in your tear streaked face, your makeup smudged and your hair out of place. Had he done this to you?

“What do you want from me?” You sighed, sitting down on the pavement and reaching up for a drag of his cigarette. You hated smoking, but tonight you just needed something to take the edge off and alcohol alone wasn’t cutting it.

“I want you,” he whispered, “but I’m so scared. I can’t give you what you need. I’ll never be able to own a house, or have nice cars, or even go on vacation. That’s not the kind of person you want to be with.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” You cried, throwing your hands up in the air. “I don’t care about money, or nice cars, or having a big home. All I ever wanted was you. But you always assumed you had to provide me with this life of luxury. I never wanted that.”

You sat staring at each other, the base from the club reverberating through your chest. Even when you cried, you looked so beautiful, and Sang-Woo couldn’t resist.

His lips were on yours in an instant, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as you clung to each other. You tasted like tequila, your tears soaking his cheeks as your fingers gripped his hair.

“Come home with me,” you whispered. “Please.”

Jason didn’t live with you, and after tonight you were pretty sure your relationship was done. But in that moment, you didn’t care; you only wanted Sang-Woo, and in the safety of your apartment, you didn’t need to hide the desperation you felt for him. You didn’t need to worry about being caught.

You hailed a taxi, your lips on each other as soon as you were seated. You tore his jacket from his shoulders, his hands snaking over your thighs and under your mini dress. He could feel the lace of your underwear against the tips of his fingers, could hear you moaning in his ear as he teased you through the delicate fabric.

It took you an age to open the front door, your fingers fumbling with the codes as Sang-Woo kissed your lips, jawline and neck. You were seeing stars, so overwhelmed by the feel of his skin on yours that you couldn’t concentrate.

Stumbling into your apartment, you began removing his shirt, your fingers shaky as you undid the buttons. You gave up three buttons in, ripping his shirt open instead. He was still toned, his muscles still as taut you remembered. You ran your fingers tips over his skin, tracing each line of toned muscle.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, pulling his shirt down over him arms before discarding it in a heap on the floor.

“I’ve missed you too,” his whispered, his arms snaking round your waist, his fingers searching for the zip of your dress. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He removed the chiffon fabric from your body, admiring your curves with awe. You’d somehow become even more beautiful since he’d last seen you naked, your delicate skin so soft to the touch. Your black lace underwear was all that remained, and he could see you tremble as he hooked his forefingers over the top of the fabric, pulling them down.

He sank to his knees before you, his tongue tracing patters through your slick folds. Your hands clung to his hair for support, hooking one knee over his shoulder to grant him better access to your tight, wet core. You were shaking, your moans falling in breathy gasps as he slid his fingers inside of you.

“I need more,” you begged, desperate to feel himself inside of you. His tongue, his fingers weren’t enough. You needed all of him.

Sang-Woo picked you up, making his way to your bed before placing you gently down on the mattress.

“I know you need more.” He soothed, trailing his fingers up the soft skin of your inner thighs. “But I need to show you how much I missed you.”

He buried himself between your thighs, his tongue pressing powerful strokes against your clit. You could hear him moan as he tasted you, could feel his urgency in the way his fingers slid in and out of your tight core. He’d always been able to make you feel pleasure beyond anything you’d ever known. You could feel the fire in your belly burn, could feel the wave of ecstasy building. Your legs shook, your hands grasping your silk sheets as you fell apart for him.

Your moans were fucking heavenly, so loud and unabashed as you shook with the intensity of your orgasm.

“Now you can have all of me,” he growled, pulling his pants off before lining himself up against you.

“I need you to fuck me hard,” you whispered. “Don’t hold back.”

The force with which he entered you was on the precipice of pleasure and pain. He stretched you out so deliciously, your moans swallowed as his mouth met yours. He thrust into you hard and fast, the mattress squeaking as you moved together.

It was like you’d never been apart, your bodies so in sync. His teeth grazed your lower lip, his hands braced against your pillow and headboard as he fucked into you again and again.

He could feel himself about to lose control, the edges of his vision blurring as he neared the edge.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling you into him as he spilled himself inside of you. You could feel him tremble through the sheer force of his release, could hear his whimpers of pleasure as he made sure you took every last drop of him.

You stay entwined together on your sheets, your lips against his as you waited for your heart rates to return to normal. Sang-Woo couldn’t believe he’d ever left you, couldn’t believe he’d walked away from the woman who brought him so much pleasure.

“Stay with me,” you whispered, pushing yourself further into his body, your head nestled on his chest.

“Always,” he promised you. “I’ll never leave you again, I swear.”

This thing between was you was messy and imperfect. Sang-Woo had a lot of making up to do, a lot of atoning for his sins that had to be done. The road wouldn’t be easy, but you were worth fighting for.

You were made for each other. He only regretted it had taken him so long to realise that nothing could keep you apart.

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 18

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: angst | masterlist | 17 | 19 |

The sun was beginning to set over the Outer Banks as you and Noah arrived at the Chateau.

The house buzzed with laughter and familiar chaos, the kind of energy that only their group could bring. Noah seemed at ease as you approached, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. It was a small gesture, but it made you feel grounded.

“You ready for this?” You asked, giving him a teasing smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he chuckled. “Meeting your closest friends all at once feels like an ambush, but I’ll manage.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling him through the doorway. “They’ll love you. Just be yourself.”

Inside, the introductions began, and within minutes, Noah was doing what Noah did best—charming everyone.

“You’re into environmental work?” Pope asked, his eyes lighting up. “What’s your focus?”

“Mostly restoration and conservation efforts,” Noah said, leaning forward in his seat. “Right now, I’ve been looking at coastal erosion and its impact on wildlife ecosystems. It’s why I was in South America for a bit. But I’ve always been fascinated by sustainability and—”

“Okay, nerds,” JJ interrupted, grinning. “We’re at dinner, not a lecture hall.”

Noah laughed easily, unbothered by JJ’s teasing. “Fair. I’ll try to keep the nerd talk to a minimum.”

“Don’t worry,” Kie added, her voice light. “Pope and I will corner you later for all the details. It’s cool to meet someone who actually gives a damn about the planet.”

As the conversation shifted, Noah found himself bonding with JJ over surfing. They swapped stories, and JJ even suggested they hit the waves before the wedding. Cleo, sitting across from them, leaned back in her chair and studied Noah with a critical eye.

“I don’t trust it,” she declared.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, confused.

“Don’t trust what?” Sarah asked, her brow furrowed.

“Him.” Cleo pointed dramatically at Noah, though her tone was playful. “He’s too perfect. Smart, good-looking, and nice? There’s gotta be a catch.”

Noah laughed, shaking his head. “I promise, no catch. I’m just a guy.”

“He really is,” You chimed in, smiling at Cleo. “Told you guys you’d love him.”

Sarah nudged you, her voice lowering. “He’s even cuter in person. I’m so happy for you.”

You gave her a grateful smile. Everything was going well. Noah fit seamlessly into your world. Everyone liked him—everyone except for Rafe.

Rafe had been quiet most of the night, his standoffishness obvious to anyone paying attention. He leaned back in his chair, nursing a glass of bourbon, his gaze flicking to Noah every so often with thinly veiled annoyance.

When you reached over to brush something off Noah’s sleeve, Rafe’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“So, Noah,” Rafe started, his tone deceptively light. “You’re just… this nice all the time?”

The room quieted slightly, everyone picking up on the edge in his voice.

Noah glanced at him, his expression neutral. “I try to be myself, yeah.”

“Right.” Rafe let out a dry laugh, swirling his drink. “Seems a little too good to be true, doesn’t it? Nobody’s that nice. You sure it’s not all an act?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Cut it out.”

“What?” Rafe feigned innocence, looking around the table. “Just saying, it’s a little suspicious. No one’s that perfect. He’s gotta have a flaw, right?”

Noah tensed beside you, but his voice remained calm. “I don’t think being nice is a flaw.”

“Of course you don’t,” Rafe muttered under his breath.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you said firmly, your voice sharp. “Noah’s been nothing but kind to everyone here. Maybe you could try doing the same for once.”

The tension at the table was palpable, but Noah reached over and placed a calming hand on yours. “It’s fine,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “Really.”

“No, it’s not,” you insisted, glaring at Rafe again.

“He’s been nothing but rude, and I’m not going to sit here and let him ruin tonight.”

After dinner, you stepped outside for a moment of air. The night was quiet except for the soft chirp of crickets. You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring up at the stars, when you heard the sound of footsteps behind you.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” you said without turning around.

“Funny, I was going to say the same to you,” Rafe replied, leaning against the porch railing.

You sighed, finally looking at him. “What do you want, Rafe?

“I want to know why you keep pretending this thing with him is real,” he said, his voice low.

You stared at him, incredulous. “Are you serious right now? He’s my boyfriend.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re in love with him?” he challenged, stepping closer.

“I am in love with him,” you said firmly.

Rafe’s laugh was bitter, cutting. “Sure. That’s why you can’t even look at me without falling apart.”

Your chest tightened, but you stood your ground. “Please don’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice softening. “You know how I feel about you, Sunshine.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, your voice breaking slightly. “I love Noah. I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you get it.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes searching yours.“You can say it a hundred times, and I still won’t believe it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your words suffocating even as they left your lips. “You think this is love? Acting like a child every time I’m happy? Making me feel like I owe you something just because you can’t let go?”

Rafe flinched like you’d slapped him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. The sharp glint in his eyes dulled, replaced by something much heavier, much harder to look at.

“Can’t let go?” he repeated quietly, almost to himself. He let out a bitter laugh, his voice trembling on the edge of something vulnerable. “I let you go, Y/N. I let you walk away. I let you be with him because I thought… I thought you’d come back.”

Your chest tightened, but you kept your gaze steady. “That’s not fair, Rafe. I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed, stepping closer. “But you also didn’t tell me how to stop waiting, did you? You didn’t tell me how to stop hoping. You left, and I stayed here trying to figure out how to fix myself, because I thought maybe—just maybe—if I did, you’d see me differently.”

“Rafe…” you started, your voice softening despite yourself.

“But it was never enough,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I wasn’t enough. And now you’re with him, and he’s perfect, right? He doesn’t yell, doesn’t screw up. He’s everything I’ll never be.”

“Stop,” you said, your throat tight. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“I don’t need to,” Rafe shot back, his eyes burning with emotion. “I see the way you look at him, and I hate it. I hate him because he gets what I spent years trying to be good enough for.”

You clenched your fists at your sides, your resolve wavering. “This isn’t about you, Rafe. This is about me choosing what’s best for me.”

“And you think he’s best for you?” he asked, his voice trembling with disbelief. “Fine. Maybe he is. But don’t stand here and tell me what I feel isn’t love. Don’t act like I didn’t try.”

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze, the weight of his pain crashing over you like a wave. “You think this is easy for me?” you whispered. “I hate this. I hate that you’re hurting because of me.”

“Then don’t do it,” Rafe said, stepping closer. His voice was low, pleading. “You don’t have to hate me, Sunshine. Just… don’t push me away like this. Not like I mean nothing to you.”

Your breath caught at the use of the nickname, the softness in his tone slicing through your defenses. You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I’m trying to move on, Rafe. Why can’t you let me?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he admitted, his words raw and unfiltered. “Because moving on means letting go of the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. And I can’t. I won’t.”

You turned away, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping your tears at bay. “This isn’t fair, Rafe. To me, to Noah, to you. You’re not the only one hurting.”

“You’re right,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost defeated. “It’s not fair. But you’re the one who keeps telling me to be better, and I’m trying. I swear I’m trying. But every time I see you with him, it feels like I’m being ripped apart all over again.”

You turned back to him then, your eyes wet and glistening. “You’re hurting yourself, Rafe. You’re doing this to yourself.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to stop. Not when it’s you.”

Your heart shattered at the raw honesty in his words, but you steeled yourself, knowing you had to draw the line. “I chose Noah,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you believe me.”

Rafe looked at you, his eyes glassy, and for the first time, you saw just how deeply you had cut him. He nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I hear you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I just… I wish it was me.”

The air between them was thick and suffocating, and before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “I wish you’d tried harder before it was too late.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Rafe’s expression twisted, his pain now painted clearly across his face. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it again, swallowing hard.

You stepped back, the guilt clawing at your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, though it felt meaningless now.

Rafe turned away, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared out into the dark. “Yeah,” he said after a long pause, his voice hollow. “Me too.”

And just like that, the fragile thread between you snapped.

You stood frozen, the weight of your words lingering in the air as Rafe turned and walked away into the darkness. You wiped at your eyes hastily, willing yourself to stay composed. But as you turned back toward the house, you stopped short, your heart sinking.

Noah was standing near the doorway, half-hidden by the shadows, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the tail end of your conversation had carried to him like a whisper on the wind. His gaze lingered on you, searching your face for something—answers, reassurance, or maybe just the truth you couldn’t quite admit to yourself yet.

For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally smiled softly, as if to brush it off. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice as warm and steady as ever.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile in return. “Yeah,” you lied, walking toward him. But as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, your mind wandered—back to the look in Rafe’s eyes, to the pain you couldn’t seem to escape.

And though Noah didn’t say anything more, his grip on you tightened, as if silently reminding you that he wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.

a/n: started drafting the ending. you guys will be happy!!

🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous1313 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa @rlalliehayes @evelynffics

[romanteacism]

A Butterfly and A Dragon’s Flight Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary: It's fun to play pretend. Word Count: 5,700 Warnings: Revalations, Lady Elinora and Prince Aemond Growing Closer, Daeron and Edward Protecting Elinora from Aemond, Aemond and Elinora Playing Pretend, Secret Rendezvous

“I heard everything,” Edward stated as he came to Daeron’s door at first light. The prince is still discombobulated from sleep. Silver hair was disheveled, eyes barely opened, and he was only clutching a white sheet to cover himself. “What?” Daeron questioned, overcome by sleep and his tired state did not differentiate if this was real or just a dream. 

“Last night, in the halls. I heard you and Prince Aemond.” Edward stated more clearly as he pushed himself inside the chambers of the youngest prince. Daeron sat on the edge of his bed, trying to comprehend the words of his friend, staring blankly at the stone floors whilst Edward waited for his response. “You… you heard everything?” Daeron uttered, piecing together and trying to remember the whole of his and his brother’s conversation. “I have.” 

“Then I suppose you now know that we are aware of whom Eli is betrothed,” Daeron said cautiously. “What?! I— What I heard was you playing a failed matchmaker between Prince Aemond and Elinora and how he only lusts after her— you know who my sister is betrothed to?! Even I do not know the man!” Edward exclaimed, and the booming voice of the young lord finally woke the young prince. “Do you really not know? We thought you knew! And you were simply doing your parent’s bidding and not telling Elinora or anyone who he is.” Daeron said as he stood and moved behind a divider to dress himself in a robe. “No! If I had known, I would have told Elinora the moment I knew! I do not agree with our parent’s decision to keep her in the dark when it came to her intended. I, too, wish to know who the man is in order to know if he is deserving of my sister!”

Daeron sighed as he stepped out, “It’s Jacaerys,” He revealed and watched as Edward’s wide, green eyes further widened. “A bastard!? They betrothed my sister to a bastard!?” Edward exclaimed in scandal, and Daeron quickly moved to hush his friend. “Imbecile! If the wrong ears heard you, your tongue could be cut!” Daeron warned and tried to make Edward sit back down, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. “But yes, Elinora is betrothed to a bastard… However, my grandfather reassured us that such a marriage would never take place. He had spoken with your parents, and a quiet agreement has been made that Elinora will not marry Jacaerys— he had gone to great lengths to ensure that whatever agreement or engagements are null and void.” Daeron reassured. 

“She can’t marry him… they cannot place her in such a position— Do not twist my words; I am not underestimating my sister, but you and I both know how Elinora is… she can’t even refuse meanless conversation from pitiful lords during balls even though she does not wish for it— what more when it is a band of small folk demanding her?” Edward said in great concern the same concerns that Daeron had when he learned that Elinora was bound to marry Prince Jacaerys. 

“I know, I know… I, too, had the same thoughts. But it is no use in fretting over the matter. Rest assured, no marriage shall take place. Jacaerys is already taken by the daughter of Daemon, and Elinora knows not that she is betrothed to him— in time, it was as if no betrothals took place.” 

“But what about your brother?” Edward then questioned. “I cannot in good conscience stay under the same roof as him, who had been sniffing around my sister! It is one thing to suspect what men think of Elinora— but to hear him shamelessly utter it is… I cannot stand for it, Daeron!” Edward began to seethe again. “I, too, cannot stand it, but what would you have us do? I have already warned and threatened my brother— and I know your manners nor station cannot warrant it. We cannot bring Uncle into this as it would spiral further out of control, and he will not hesitate to tell your parents, who will then undoubtedly lock Elinora in her cage.” Daeron rambled on. 

“Then what?” Edward questioned. “I do not know… but you are set to leave in a moon— we just need to watch over Elinora so that Aemond does not stray closer to her,” Daeron stated, and Edward could only nod with a grievous sigh, leaving his lips. His whole body was tense as he was proven right in all his accusations of the prince. “Go on then,” He stated. And Daeron frowned. “Go, accompany Elinora. I do not blame you fully, but it was your encouragement that managed for the two to grow fonder one another— now you must undo what you have done.” 

“Edward! You cannot hold that against me!” Daeron exclaimed. “I can and I will— unless you make certain that your brother shall not come close to my sister. Do you know what he did? He got her a cat! An adorable, fluffy little kitten whom Elinora is already smitten with! He has her in the palm of his hands!” Daeron groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not know fully Elinora’s view on Aemond, but if his brother got her a cat— something she had been longing for since she was a child, it was safe to say that there was already affection blooming in her heart. 

“Very well then,” He muttered and disappeared the divider once more to dress. “Make haste; she will wake soon, and she will undoubtedly go to the pond to feed the ducks, and undoubtedly, your brother shall be waiting for her.” Edward sneered as he had grown to expect and know where Aemond waited to have his little rendezvous with his sister. 

“Daeron!” Elinora breathed out in shock when she opened her door only to reveal Daeron waiting at the other end of it. “What… why are you awake so early?” She questioned as she looked towards the edge of the hall to see that the sun was barely in its quarter, far too early for Daeron to be awake and ready for the day. “Oh… I just couldn’t sleep— and seeing you always wake so early, I thought I might accompany you today. I feel as if we have not spent much time these days.” Daeron quickly fibbed. 

“You slept poorly? Best to try some chamomile and lavender tea— wine cannot always aid you in sleep, Daeron.” Elinora advised as she and Daeron began to walk toward the direction of the pond. Elinora clutched a sleeping Peony in her arms. “I do not like tea! It tastes bitter and as if I’m only drinking the essences of leaves and grass— which I am!” Daeron reasoned as he felt that Elinora was on the verge of chastising him for his habitual glass or two of wine before bed. “But it’s good for you! It calms you down when need be and gives you energy if you wish— you cannot only drink wine, Daeron… I fear you might turn into your eldest brother,” Elinora whispered the final part, conscious of whose ears were eavesdropping upon them. 

Daeron paused in his tracks, a dramatic gasp leaving his lips. “You wound me, Eli!” He said theatrically, his hand atop his chest as if he were actually wounded. “You dare compare me to… to Aegon? Of all people?!” Elinora bit her lip to hinder her laugh at Daeron’s antics. “My, my… the capitol has truly changed you— has made you cruel! I think it best we return to the Reach, what has Kingslanding done to our Eli?” Daeron continued, and Elinora could no longer stifle her laughs. 

“I am still the same Daeron… I am just worried about you,” She sighed, a small smile still on her lips that seemed to lighten the mood of the rather dreary topic they were partaking in. Elinora had always had that gift about her, a lightness to make any dark or bleak subject find a sense of optimism in it. “I know, and I thank you for your concern,” Daeron smiled and linked their arms. 

“So…” Elinora trailed, wanting to hear a certain sentence to leave Daeron’s lips. “Fine, I shall refrain from drinking excessively, lest I become Aegon,” Daeron agreed almost half-heartedly. He had no clue that his accompanying Elinora that morning meant he would give up wine. But he supposed that it was a small price to pay to prevent Aemond from slithering his way to Elinora’s side. 

When they arrived at the pond, Elinora saw no other presence present, quietly disappointing her. She had thought that Prince Aemond would be there, waiting for her to feed the ducks and swans just as they did the previous days. Elinora traveled her gaze further around the pond, but the sight of silver hair draped atop black leather was nowhere to be seen, making her sigh and instead forge the thought of Prince Aemond and instead focus on feeding the birds. 

She tried to remove her thoughts from Prince Aemond, but as she and Daeron fed the ducks, she could not help but still think of the prince. She had noticed he acted quite differently when others surrounded him. He was more rigid and aloof, just as he was during the previous night’s dinner. There was an edge in his voice and tenseness in his movements, a stark difference from how he was when Elinora would encounter him alone in the gardens and pond. 

Aemond gritted his teeth as he predictably saw his brother with Elinora, accompanying her to the pond that Daeron fully knew was where he and Elinora spoke and encountered one another without the disturbance of other interlopers. Aemond breathed heavily as he watched from behind a bush as Elinora arrived by the pond's edge, her eyes shifting, looking as if she was searching for someone— searching for him. 

Aemond swallowed thickly at such thoughts and the disappointed look in her jade eyes. Could it be possible? That someone would miss him? Would anyone truly wish to be in his presence and search for his whereabouts, and when not found, would turn disappointed? Aemond turned cold at such realizations. It was a rare sensation and instance, but he would think he should grow to expect it because someone like Elinora was truly rare.

He had the urge to just march towards the pond and announce his presence to her, to wipe away the disappointment in her eyes and let her see that he was there. That he did not forget their custom of feeding the ducks. However, Aemond’s caution ruled his wants. The prince instead left the gardens and pushed away the thought of the girl to the farthest crevices of his mind and hoped by some gracious miracle, his thought would not stray to Elinora. 

“What in the name of the gods are you doing here? You should be watching over Elinora!” Edward suddenly exclaimed as Daeron entered his chambers and plopped down on his already-made bed. “Calm down; she is in the chapel with our mothers,” Daeron explained, voic muffled as his head was pressed upon the feathered bed. “By gods, it’s quite exhausting! Elinora does not run around, but we have walked along the whole keep thrice! Thrice, Edward! She had no actual place to go; she just walked around for leisure!” Daeron complained and settled further into the bed. 

“She’s not walking for leisure; she’s searching,” Edward explained as he tried to finish writing a scroll that his father ordered him to write. “Searching for what?” Daeron asked, but he quickly came to an answer. “Oh,” was all he could say as he realized Elinora’s sudden fondness for walking was because she was hoping to stumble upon Aemond. “How are you so certain that she was in search of someone?” Daeron asked. 

“Because that certain someone was doing the same thing as well. I was breaking my fast in the hall, and I saw Prince Aemond pass by five times, his eye clearly searching for my sister.” Edward explained. “Does she truly like him, or are we simply paranoid? I know he’s my brother and all… however, I quite find it hard to believe that someone would be fond of him in such a way… especially if it be Elinora.” Edward sighed and shook his head. “It’s quite plain…  I cannot explain it or fathom it, but I believe all our caution is reasonable. And even if she is not truly fond of the prince, we are both aware of how fond your brother is of her.” 

Elinora sat silently and alone in a pew behind her mother and the queen as they listened to a private service since it was proven dangerous for them to venture to the sept. “Seven,” A silky, cold voice suddenly whispered beside her. Elinora was momentarily startled, but as she turned to her side, she suddenly saw Prince Aemond sitting beside her. “What?” She asked, confused by what he had uttered. “I thought you were counting how many times he had said ‘tsk’ during his sermon,” Aemond said but quickly cringed at himself as he had no word of substance to say to Elinora. But he was quick to be absolved from recoiling at himself as a smile came to Elinora’s lips. “No, on the contrary, I was counting how many times he’s been saying ‘hm,’ and I believe it had been five,” 

Aemond bit the insides of his cheeks and nodded as Elinora moved to look onward once more as the Maester who was giving the sermon noticed that the two of them were distracted with one another. “Have you fed the ducks today?” Aemond asked quietly as both of them looked before the alter, discreetly having a conversation. “I have… Daeron joined me. Though I must admit, the ducks were skeptical of him,” She answered and ran her fingers through Peony’s fur. Aemond hummed and gave a small nod. 

Aemond was to speak again, read to utter another nonsensical thing just to keep his conversation with Elinora. However, they both saw as the Queen glanced toward their direction. “Aemond! I— what are you doing here?” Queen Alicent questioned as his son rarely ventured to the sept or any place of worship uncoerced. “Attending the sermon, Mother,” He answered plainly, glancing towards Elinora, who lowered her gaze and focused it upon her kitten that lay on her lap. Queen Alicent was still quite confused, but she gave a nod and returned to look onward. 

“What are you doing here, my prince? If I remember correctly, you mentioned the other day that you have no care for the gods,” Elinora whispered and leaned closer to the prince so that he could hear her. Aemond licked his lips as he followed along with Elinora’s movement and leaned closer to her, her scent invading his senses again. If he were a lesser man, he would give into his urges, bury his nose into her hair, and greedily inhale her scent of lilac and bergamots. 

“Such blasphemous words, surely I was not the one to utter it,” Aemond smirked, and once again, Elinora frowned in confusion as he denied an action that he clearly did. “But— do you not remember? We were in the pond and found the duck’s nest and were having a conversation about faith and how you barely have any,” Elinora explained, trying to make the prince remember. “Once again, my lady, I do not know what you speak of,” Aemond said and smirked further as an adorable pout came to Elinora’s lips. 

“Why do you do that?” Elinora suddenly questioned as she and Prince Aemond began to walk towards the pond once again. “Do what?” He asked as he inched closer to her side, letting their shoulders brush with each step they took. “Deny things you’ve done— they are not necessarily bad things, which is why it is confusing when you deny it,” Aemond felt a grin itching to come to his lips. “Well, first of all, it’s amusing. Watching you try to figure out if you had false memories or not. And secondly…” 

“You’re teasing me,” Elinora said, feeling heat come to her cheeks. “Exactly,” Aemond finally smiled. “That’s mean!” She protested as they descended the stairs, Aemond taking the initiative to hold her arm and assist her as she tripped upon the skirts of her dress. “Not quite… I do not do it out of malice… just amusement.” Aemond explained as they reached the end of the stairs. “So you see me as a jester then?” Elinora questioned, so consumed by how the prince truly viewed her that she did not bother to remove her hold on the prince’s arm, and Aemond did not dare to remove it himself. Letting himself enjoy and indulge in the warmness and touch of Elinora. 

“It is just harmless teases, Elinora. Surely your brother and even Daeron do it to you as well,” Aemond remarked as he led them to a path less traveled towards the pond just so they’d be out of the eyes of interlopers. “So if it was all just teases… and you were only pretending… then it was truly you who gave me Peony!” Elinora exclaimed and moved her kitten to be seen better by the prince. Aemond paused for a moment, not thinking that she would mention that subject once more. 

“Yes,” He finally admitted and felt his heart stutter as a wide smile overcame Elinora’s face— eyes crinkling in joy and an indent on the right corner of her lips appearing. “I knew it! I— I have not properly thanked you for the past days because I was uncertain, but… thank you, my prince— I never wanted anything more than a cat.” Elinora said gratefully as she clutched Peony closer to her chest, Aemond watching as the kitten snuggled itself further to her owner. 

Aemond could only blink as Elinora beamed upon him. The whole of it was overwhelming; with them under the shade of trees, hidden from the eyes of the court, and the image of her with a kitten in her arms and butterflies over her head, Aemond felt a sudden urge to hold her. Not kiss her, but just to simply have her in his arms. Nothing of lust, just something entirely pure. 

“You… you need not thank me, Elinora.” Aemond finally spoke. “No, but I do! You’ve given me something I will cherish and love forever! I could only hope I could offer you the same kindness. How could I ever repay you?” She said, feeling rather guilty. She knew there was kindness and warmth in the prince. She now regretted how she had viewed the prince before. She recoiled in her judgment and could only hope the gods would forgive her for her past opinion of Prince Aemond. 

Aemond was ready to speak no more of it, to tell her that she had no debt owed, but her words — no, the whole her was too tempting. “Very well then, if you’re this insistent… could you perhaps accompany me to the city tonight?” That made the smile falter on Elinora’s lips. “What?” She asked, a bit shocked by his request. 

“The twins’ name day is in two days, and as their uncle, I am expected to bestow them a gift… a gift that I have not yet acquired nor know what it will be. I shall need your help.” Aemond fibbed. He had already gotten the twins their gifts. Saddles for their dragons. But he only wished to be with Elinora, far from the eyes and ears of others in the court, especially her brother and his. Elinora was rendered silent, Aemond clearly seeing apprehension in her eyes. Perhaps he was too forward with his request, but he found little care. 

“Never mind, if you do—“ He began to speak, but Elinora quickly shook her head, her guilt already controlling her as well as her wish to please the prince. “No! I… I’ll help you,” she suddenly said. Aemond raised his brow in question, “You’ll come with me to the city?” Aemond questioned once more. “Yes,” Elinora answered, feeling her palms grow cold in nervousness. “I’ll come with you to the city.” 

When late-night came, Elinora paced in her chambers. Her fingers fiddled with the ends of her hair as she waited for the prince. She turned to the balcony of her chambers, a view of the city and the moon that was nearing its peak. It was far past her usual time of sleep, but even though she wanted to lay her head on the soft feathered pillow, she made a promise to the prince that she must keep. 

“Am I doing the right thing, Peony?” Elinora asked quietly as she petted her pet’s fur for comfort. It was daunting to do such a thing. It was filling her with nerves and guilt, but going back to her word would only fill her with more guilt. 

Elinora abruptly stood up as three knocks sounded out. She need not question who it was because everyone in her life simply walked into her chambers without announcing their presence. Elinora took in three deep breaths before she approached the door, and when it opened, she saw the dark figure of the prince, his face and hair hidden by a hood. “Are you ready?” Prince Aemond questioned quietly as she was dressed in a gown of light blue, a gown that would easily garner attention. 

“I don’t have a hood,” Elinora admitted. “I thought so… here, wear this,” Aemond said and handed her his spare hood, which Elinora quickly took and wore. The girl held her breath as Prince Aemond reached forward and secured the hood to cover her face. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as the prince’s fingers brushed the side of her neck, but luckily, the shadow of her hood hid the color blooming on her cheeks. 

“So… do you have anything in mind to gift the prince and princess?” Elinora asked as Aemond led them through the dark halls of the keep. “What?” Aemond questioned, temporarily forgetting the fib he offered her. “For their name day? I thought that is why we are going to the city,” Elinora stated. “Oh,” Ameond suddenly remembered. “Nothing, I truly have no idea what to give the twins.” 

“Where are we going?” Elinora questioned as she thought they would exit through the gates. “Did you truly think that we were going through the gates? Where guards could tattle on us?” Aemond questioned with a smirk as he pushed an inconspicuous wall that led to the secret passages of the keep. 

“There are a series of tunnels in this keep that leads to differing rooms, the shore, and the city,” Aemond explained as he took hold of Elinora’s hand in fear she would get lost in the tunnels. “Oh, we also have the same tunnels in Highgarden… but all of them just lead to the kitchen.” She informed, and through the dark, she could sense a question from the prince. “My ancestor was really fond of eating… especially during the middle of the night,” She explained, “Me and Edward often used to play there, but my father had it sealed off when I was eight because I accidentally got lost,” 

“Well, best stay by my side then. I’d rather not have you lost here and others discover these secret passageways,” Aemond hummed and smirked further as Elinora did as he said and further clung to his side. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Elinora admitted as they finally arrived at the city. Their bodies squished with the crowd, different sights and smells invading and overwhelming her. “Go to the city?” Aemond questioned as he moved his hold to Elinora’s waist to keep her by his side and ensure no danger would come upon her. “Yes, and sneak out without any of my family’s knowledge, leave during the night, and go about unescorted.” She rambled on, her nerves now taking hold of her, and Aemond was quick to sense it. “No one shall ever know,” Aemond reassured. 

“What is that?” Elinora questioned as her eyes caught sight of a group of people dressed in quite garish yet luxurious clothing. “Performers,” Aemond answered plainly, his eye keen for any danger that may arise as they were in the crowded street. Elinora chewed on her cheeks, a request wanting to be uttered, but she feared the prince’s response that she might be overindulging with her newfound glimpse of freedom. “What is it, Elinora?” Prince Aemond questioned, already aware that she wanted to speak of something, but she held herself back. 

“Could we possibly watch? Just for a moment, then we could return to finding the gifts for the twins.” Elinora asked shyly, already expecting the prince to deny her request. But who could truly deny Elinora? It was most certainly not Prince Aemond. 

“Very well, if you wish.” Aemond agreed and felt his heart stutter again as a beaming smile made itself on her lips. It should concern Aemond at how easy she was to please, was she truly that shut off from the world and kept in chains that him just humoring a small request could garner the most breathtaking smile and grateful aura? 

For years, he had been surrounded by courtiers who were given all the lavishness that the world could offer, but none seemed enough to quench their desires and wants. with Elinora… he was positive that you could simply bring her a pebble from the gardens, and she’d appreciate it beyond words and keep that rock in her care until the end of her days. Aemond breathed in deeply, and instead of smelling the rancid smell of the city, he could only smell her scent. Elinora was truly a breath of fresh air in the pollution Aemond had been brought up in. 

“They're quite amusing… perhaps you could have them perform for the prince and princess,” Elinora suggested, and before Aemond could reply, Elinora’s laugh filled his ears and symbolized him that all he could do was savor the laughs that came from her lips. 

When Elinora did not hear the prince’s reply, she ceased her laughs only to see the prince looking upon her intently, making her concious. “Or not— perhaps we should venture to the shops.” She quickly said and tried to be rid of her amusement as it did not coordinate with the deeply serious expression on the prince’s face. 

“No… we could stay— I was just thinking over your suggestion,” Aemond quickly said, not wanting to cut short Elinora’s mirth. Elinora was silent for a moment, forgetting their surroundings as she stared deeply into the prince’s lilac eye. She gave a small nod and returned to face the performers and could only hope that the prince was not simply humoring her. 

“What of toys?” Elinora suggested as they walked along an alley of differing shops to search for gifts for the twins. After Aemond had spoken with the performers, who were shocked to discover that the most mysterious and undoubtedly one of the more standoffish princes of the realm had watched their performance and now wanted them to entertain the court, he finally led Elinora to the shops. “They already have a myriad of toys— most of them are just gathering dust.” 

“Then… clothes? Perhaps a set of them where they could match?” She suggested once more, but the prince only shook his head. “Mother and Helaena had already seen to it that they are clothed in coordinated gowns and tunics.” He responded, and Elinora could only hum, deep in thought. 

“Do they have a specific interest?” Elinora questioned as she earnestly tried to think of a gift for the twins that Aemond had already bought gifts for. “I believe Jaehaera is fond of toying around with the abandoned harp in Helaena’s chambers, and I often see Jaehaerys creating doodles when he is set to learn the histories,” Aemond responded and observed as Elinora’s attention was briefly caught by a seller selling sweets. 

Aemond was quick to take a few coins from his pocket and handed them to the vendor, took a bag of comfits, and silently handed it to Elinora. “Oh, thank you,” She said in joy as she need not utter anything, but Prince Aemond was quick to notice what she wished for. “Should we then get a small harp for Princess Jaehaera and an easel for Prince Jaehaerys?” She questioned and nibbled on a sugar-coated nut and offered some of the sweets to the prince, who denied her offer. 

“Very well then, come, I believe there is a shop that sells music supplies by the end of this street,” Elinora nodded and happily followed the prince as she ate her sweets. “Do you often go here?” Elinora questioned. It was rather a silly question, seeing how well-versed the prince was in the alleys and streets of the city. However, she could not help but ask it because she herself lived in Highgarden but could only account for going to the city five times in her life. 

Aemond was silent for a moment, not wanting to reveal to Elinora the true reason why he would often venture to the polluted and crowded place. “Only business demands me to,” He uttered a half-truth. “What type of business?” Elinora continued to question, genuinely interested in the prince. Aemond felt his jaw clench at her questions because he did not wish to lie to her, but he further did not wish to tell her the truth. “You’re quite inquisitive, why this interest in my business?” Aemond then asked to keep Elinora away from the subject of his ventures to the city. 

However, his question and his uncontrollable tone of coldness quickly undid the progress they had made that day, as Elinora felt she had grown to be a nuisance to the prince. “I apologize, I did not mean to overstep, Your Highness,” Elinora said in remorse, and Aemond balled his fists as he felt that they were nearing retracing old patterns. 

Aemond sighed as they reached the shop. He opened the door for Elinora, who stepped inside and quickly situated herself where they kept the harps, and Aemond could only stand idly by the side as he thought about how to salvage the progress he and Elinora had made. That day was the most natural they had been. Gone was the cold, calloused edge from him, and Elinora no longer shied or cowered away. 

“Is the harp for you, miss?” The old shopkeeper questioned Elinora as she observed the harps they had. “Oh, no… it’s for a little girl,” She answered with a polite smile. “For your daughter, miss?” Elinora could only blink at the question. She remembered Prince Aemond’s advice earlier, that they must not be found and that they must be rid of any indications that they were highborn, so Elinora could only smile and nod. 

“Oh, what joy! I’m guessing it is for her name day, how old is she?” Aemond watched from the door as Elinora humored the shopkeeper and conversed with him a fake life. He watched her fiddle with her hair as the shopkeeper continued to speak, trying to learn more about the hoax of life she tried to sell, and Aemond could not help but be amused. 

There was a clear tell in Elinora when she lied. She could not hold the gaze of anyone, and her fingers would play with the ends of her hair. Twirling and coiling the dark auburn strands repeatedly as if to soothe herself. “So which harp, miss? So I could wrap it up, and you could be on your way,” 

“That one,” Aemond finally announced his presence as he stepped forward and pointed upon a small harp with carvings of flowers and serendipitously, ducks that Elinora had been eyeing since they stepped foot into the shop. “Oh, is he your husband, miss?” The shopkeeper questioned, and Elinora was rendered speechless. Cheeks so red that she was certain that she was the color of a poppy. “Yes,” Aemond answered for her, his heart beating erratically in his chest as he said the simple word. 

“Oh, very well then, I’ll have it wrapped and ready for you, sir.” The shopkeeper said, but Aemond shook his head. “I shall have it picked up later today, but we pay now,” He said, not wanting to carry around a harp in the city streets and most certainly did not wish to reveal that they resided in the Red Keep. “What name shall I have it saved for, sir?” 

“Peony,” Elinora was the one to reply, finally taking hold of herself as she had forced herself to be absolved from the redness on her cheeks. “Peony?” The shopkeeper questioned, and Aemond stilled as he watched the man try to take a good look at his face that he had hidden under the shadow of his hood. “Yes, it’s our family name— here’s the payment. Now, if you would, my wife and I must get back to our daughter. Goodbye,” Aemond hastily said and took hold of Elinora’s hand before rushing out of the shop before their true identities were revealed. 

“Oh gods,” Elinora breathed out, heart racing at the sudden thrill of it all. “You’re quite a good liar,” Aemond stated as he saw that there was turmoil running in the girl’s mind. It was as if she was guilty, but at the same time, she was thrilled at the sudden adventure. “I’ve never had to pretend to be another person before!” Elinora said in excitement, and Aemond bit his tongue as he saw a newfound twinkle in her light jade eyes. “Best get used to it, we still have to acquire Jaehaery’s gift,” Aemond said with a small smile as he and Elinora continued to play pretend that evening with just the two of them, hand in hand, in the streets of Kingslanding away from the eyes of the court. 

Tag List: @sapphirevhagar @dahlias-and-marigolds @shygardengalaxy-blog @m-riaa @summerposie @emerald-jade1

[hannahssimblr]

Odd sensation, the tattoo gun. On the internet, they said the forearm wasn’t bad. One of the least painful spots, which is why I try to suppress my wince as the needle buzzes over my skin. 

“It’s more painful when you’re tired or dehydrated, by the way,” says Kwan, the artist, her chewing gum smacking in her mouth over the sound of thrash metal. 

“Right, right. I guess I’m always dehydrated a bit.”

“He never drinks water,” Jonas pipes up from the sofa. “I remind him of it all the time, but he won’t.”

“Everything wrong with my life probably comes back to that,” I grin at Kwan, and the corner of her mouth ticks up. 

“You’re cute,” she says. “Pretty little face. How old are you guys?”

“Twenty,” Jonas says. “At least me. Jude is still nineteen.”

“Wow. Little babies,” Kwan wipes pooling black ink with a tissue, revealing a thin curved line along my forearm. Weird, I think, looking at it. That’s there forever now. Every day until I’m dead, I’ll look down and there’ll be something on my arm. 

“And what brings you to Phuket?” 

“Well, to be honest, Kwan, we came here just for you,” I say. Her eyes flick to my face, and she sighs with resignation. “You’re good, you know that? You’re going to go far. Going to break some hearts.” 

“We’re backpacking,” Jonas clarifies. “Bangkok for a week, Phuket for another, then we’re going to the Phi Phi Islands and Koh Samui. Jude is acting on complete impulse with this tattoo. I think he is probably trying to flirt so that you like him.”

“And the mango,” she says, now delicately inking the leaves. “Is it personally significant?”

“No, I just liked it. Your art is nice. Never thought I’d get a tattoo because I thought they were all, you know, big thick lines and shit, but yours…”

“Thank you.”

“And like, I guess the mangoes here taste really good, so I could say it’s a memento of my time in Thailand.”

Kwan exhales a laugh. “And not too much between your ears, I see, which is good. Otherwise I think you would doom womankind.”

I grin. “God, Kwan, I love when women insult me. It’s my bread and butter.”

The tattoo gun hits a nervy patch of skin near my inner elbow and I hiss through my teeth. “Ah!”

“Too much?” 

Then I laugh. “Yes. No. Maybe it depends, doesn’t it? I hope this is worth it.”

Later, strolling the beach, I take a photograph of my arm wrapped in plastic and send it to my mother. 

Look what I did.  Why would you do that to your body???? 

She gets back. 

Is that permanent??? 

I cackle. 

“What are you laughing at? Did you send that to Astrid?”

“No, to my mom. She doesn’t approve.”

“Oh,” Jonas frowns, as though this is of deep concern. “Doesn’t her reaction disappoint you?”

“No, I knew she’d hate it, and now she’s going to show my dad and he’ll hate it even more. It was the same when I pierced my ears on holidays. He doesn’t think men should do things like that, and whatever.”

“And you like that he is outraged?”

“Yeah, it’s funny. He hates everything I do regardless, so like, might as well lean the whole way in, you know?”

“You should send the picture to your dad.”

“Nah, I don’t really… I don’t, like, text him… or anything like that.”

“Never?”

“Nah. He wouldn’t respond, anyway. It’s better to get a reaction from my mom.”

He hesitates, getting ready to attempt some conversation, no doubt, that I haven’t much interest in having. I feel my defences rise before he opens his mouth. A blanket of emotional exhaustion settling over me. “You haven’t spoken too much about your father before,” he says. “I assumed you are not close, but—” 

“Please,” I say. “Let’s not.”

“But I am just thinking about how—”

“Jonas, it really doesn’t have to be like this. It’s really not a fun conversation to have.”

“Right. It’s just that you’ve even had dinner with my stepfather when he came to visit, and you know all about my father and my half brother and–”

“Yeah, I know. Max was a nice man. It was a nice dinner, but just because you’ve shared stuff with me doesn’t mean I have to share back.”

“But don’t you think since we’ve known each other for months now, and we are friends, that you should tell me something about your family?”

“You telling me personal things doesn’t make you entitled to know things about me.”

“Yes, but just some basic facts. What is your father’s name?” 

“Chris.”

“Christian?”

“Topher. Christopher.”

“And he is American.”

“Yes.”

Jonas leaves space for me to elaborate, and I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. How old I do feel when people ask me about my dad? Twelve, every single time. Twelve, and destroying his stupid rare collector’s book purely for attention. He lost his mind and whacked my face with the back of his hand. Wedding ring rapped across a cheekbone. Was exhilarating to see him display an emotion. I remember laughing on the floor with hysterical glee among the shredded pages. A vindictive little winner. 

“He was born in California. He has four brothers. He studied dental medicine at the University of New Mexico, then he got my mom pregnant and married her.”

Another pause. “I see it was difficult for you to say that.”

“It was fine.”

“He was in university when you were born?”

“Yeah. He was twenty-one.”

“And your mother?”

“Nineteen.” 

“Your age.”

“Yes, my age. Terrible for her, I suppose. I don’t know. She’s fine. They’re both fine.”

He nods. “So you are determined to remain a mystery.”

“I’m determined to enjoy my trip, to be honest.”

“Well, thank you for sharing facts about your father.”

My arm is already sweating under the layers of plastic, beaten by the sun. Kwan said I shouldn’t expose the tattoo to sunlight. Then why did I get this thing? On holidays by the beach, about to spend another two weeks island hopping, and how hot is it? Thirty-seven? Forty? Sometimes my own reasonings are mysterious to me. 

“Let’s do something else,” I say, agitated by myself and everything around me. “What’s next?”

“You just got a tattoo, and now you are already looking for more excitement?”

“Yes, come on, I’m bored.”

“Okay, okay, let’s think of something.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 13/?

Prev | Next

Damian was wired up. He would be fidgeting if it weren’t for his years of training. He was worried for Danyal. The blast and the fight knocked him out cold, and Damian could do nothing. He could still see the smoke smoldering from his twin’s body.

Jasmine hummed as she brought out some coffee and tea leaves.

“What do you guys prefer?”

“We’re fine,” Richard said in a tight voice.

“Nothing for me,” Father said.  

“Hmm, if you say so. I think I’ll make some tea. Damian, do you want any?”

Damian couldn’t take her nonchalant attitude anymore. He brought his fist down to the table, making the few dishes rattle.

“How can you be blasé about things when Danyal is hurt? You say you’re his older sister, yet here you are, worried about drinking tea instead of him!”

Jazz didn’t have the decency to react to Damian’s outburst. She continued making her tea calmly.

“Okay, then, no tea for you.”

She sat down on the table and sipped her tea.

“I’m not worried because I know Danny. He’s been through worse and has come through the other side. He’s strong. Besides, I gave him a shot of ecto-dejected; that’s the green goo injection. It’ll jump-start his advanced healing and make him come back quicker. He needs rest right now; there’s nothing more I can do than wait now.”

Jasmine put down her tea.

“Besides, the way you’re judging me is rich coming from you, don’t you think ibn al Xu'ffasch?”

Jasmine continued drinking her tea as everyone else at the table tensed. She knew—she knew about their nightlife. Danyal must’ve told her.

“What do you mean by saying that name,” father asked.

“I think you know exactly what it means.” 

“He told you,” Richard accused.

“Don’t be so surprised. Danny eventually tends to tell me all his secrets. He trusts me. I know everything about his past—about how his so-called family treated him,” Jasmine looked straight at Damian while she said that.

“That’s not fair. Damian didn’t know any better; he was raised by bad people.”

“I suppose you’re right, but he’s out of that environment now and still trying to impose his will on Danny. He doesn’t want to leave us, yet you’re trying to take away his right to choose and make him go with you and your family.”

“It’s not just my family. It’s Danyal’s, too. What claim do you have on my brother? None.”

“Damian,” father said his name as a warning.

“No, we’re his blood family. That has to mean more than a family who has been following him around to kill him.”

“Blood meant nothing when he was kicked out of the only life he has ever known. We took him in and loved him. Are you saying that chosen family isn’t as strong or stronger than blood relations,” she asked while looking at Richard.

“That’s not fair! Leave my family out of this,” Damian said.

“Hypocrite,” Jasmine said.

“What,” Damian asked while taking out one of his knives, “did you say?”

“Hypocrite,” she repeated while finishing her tea. She got up and had the gall to turn her back to Damian.

“Danny is going to wake up soon,” she said with certainty, “I say we go back.”

She paused for a moment.

“I’ll let you guys decide what to tell my parents, but don’t treat them like idiots. If you don’t want to tell them about your nightlife, that is your right. Tell them there are things you can’t tell them but don’t lie and don’t twist the truth, or I will butt in, got it?”

She left them in the kitchen. Damian would admit it to himself only, but she was right. He was a hypocrite. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t bring his twin home.

____

Danny was floating. He was in a dark, warm space with twinkling lights resembling stars above him. He didn’t want to leave. He knew he would have to face…something when he woke up. He didn’t know what, but Danny knew it would be bad.

Danny could feel his surroundings melting away, leaving reality behind. He tried to hold on to his dark blanket as long as he could, but, unfortunately, it ended. Danny opened his eyes and saw two pairs of worried eyes.

His parents.

His parents who hated ghosts.

His parents who now knew his deepest secret.

He was Phantom, their enemy.

Danny was about to beg for forgiveness when he felt his parents’ arms around him.

“Oh, honey buns, we are so sorry,” his mom whispered.

“Dann-o, no words will ever be enough to express how sorry I am,” his dad said.

Danny scrunched his eyebrows, confused.

“Mom, dad, what—what are you doing?”

“What does it look like? We’re asking for forgiveness,” mom said, his dad nodding his head vigorously.

“Yeah, no amount of apologizing will ever erase the pain we caused you, Danny, but your mother and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us.”

“But I lied to you multiple times, too! I hid the fact that I’m part ghost! How can you not hate me? How can you love something like me?”

His dad picked him up and squeezed him into a hug.

“Oh, Dann-o, you’re our son. We love you whether you are a boy, ghost, or something in between. Always.”

Danny’s vision got blurry with tears.

“Mom, dad, I’m so sorry,” he said, throwing himself into his parents’ arms.

“No, baby boy, we’re sorry,” his mother whispered into his ears. Ancients, he never wanted the moment to end. His parents accepted him and still loved him.

Far too soon, his parents let him go.

“There’s something else; Danny, Bruce Wayne, Damian, and Dick are in the kitchen. They say they’ll explain certain things to us.”

His mom sounded angry.

“Oh,” he said weakly. He didn’t know what else to do. He had to say so much more, but having the Waynes in his house complicated things. He couldn’t openly tell them all his secrets, or the Waynes would butt in.

At that moment, Jazz walked into the living room with the Waynes following her.

Dammit, he was out of time. Danny got off his parents’ lap and stood up. It was time to deal with the Waynes.

____

John, Deadman, and Zatanna were, for once, in agreement.

They had to call for an emergency meeting between the Justice League and Justice League Dark to find a way to revoke these laws as soon as possible.

The only reason there hadn’t been an out war was because a ghost hero named Phantom kept a fragile peace between humans and ghosts in Amity Park. That peace would not last if they didn’t do something to change the laws, though.

“We can always call the Ghost King for help, too,” Deadman said.

“You want to call Pariah Dark,” Constantine asked in disbelief. He had found out about the Ghost King during his research. The guy was a tyrant who hated both ghosts and humans.

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that another ghost defeated him. The new king is benevolent and has tried his best to fix what the old tyrant had destroyed.”

“You’re sure about this,” Zatanna asked.

“Yes.”

“What do you think?”

Constantine took a puff of smoke.

“We’ll leave it for a vote. The League and Dark will have to talk about it. We can’t decide by ourselves this time. It has more than to do with magic; laws are in place.”

Zatanna and Deadman nodded, “Fine, time to call for an emergency meeting.”

“Let’s call the Bats and his brood. They found out about this, so they should be there, too.”

Constantine sent out the message. The response was immediate. They would meet in a few hours.

He took a swig of whiskey. Hopefully, this clusterfuck will be fixed soon.

[igotanidea]

(7) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1/ part 2 / part 3 / part 4/ part 5 / part 6

A/N: ladies and gentlemen I give you : THE FINALE! happy early b-day @pookieisme4life 🎁🎁 (I was about to wait till 24th but it turned out impossible I am so excited to post it!!!)

***

„Who the hell are you?”

Honestly, he could care less about the ID of the mystery person, nor he hoped for the actual answer, but the initial shock did just that.

They were driving towards some unknown destination that was allegedly the location of the place Y/N was taken to.

“Nice try, Nightwing. Keep dreaming” the person, who was already deemed as a woman, laughed, swirling abruptly yet skillfully.

“Seriously you can’t just expect me to address you in a hey, you way.”

“Valid point. For the sake of it, let’s settle on calling me Shadow.”

“Fine. Whatever. Now why are you helping me?”

“I did some bad things In my life. Maybe this is my way of making up for them.”

“Huh. Seeking redemption?”

“Pretty nice trope, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was actually pretty nice to be able to use humor even in dire situations. “I was always a sucker for the character who wants to do better in their life.”

“Yeah. At least you chose a better way to do so than my brother.”

“You mean Red Hood?”

“For someone I don’t know shit about, you seem awfully knowledgeable about my family ties.”

“Intel is everything, Nightwing. And yes, I know what your other brother, Red Robin, might say.”

“Who the hell are you?!” At this point Dick was really getting curious.

“A friend.” She responded, looking right at him, her eyes shining from behind the mask.

***

“Let me go!!”

“Easy princess. Behave or this might actually get worse for you.”

“LET ME GO!!” she struggled against the binding on her wrist and the sack put on her head.

“What did I tell you, you bitch!?” She was abruptly pulled out of the car and thrown onto the ground. “Do you have a death wish?!”

“Fuck you!”

“If I were you, I’d cooperate, you little slut. Otherwise we might have to scar that pretty face of yours more than it’s necessary.”

With a sharp movement the sack was torn off her head and she had to squint her eyes from the light that hit her eyes with excessive force, reinforced by the fact she had just spent god knows how much time in a dark car with eyes covered.

“Shit…” there was no possibility to hold back the hiss and a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Yes. Yes sunshine, you’re in deep shit.” The kidnapper kneeled to her level and caressed her cheek in a condescending gesture, obviously misreading her tears as a sign of fear and submission. “So pretty…”

“Piss off!” she acted instinctively, ending up with a slap on the cheek and stinging sensation that only added to her anger.

“Didn’t I tell you to behave?”

“I had a stinking sack on my head, maybe there was something wrong with my hearing at the time and – “ her head spun to the side as another slap, this time far harder landed on her cheek.

“Well you definitely heard me now. And if you didn’t I won’t hesitate to remind you again. Now get up, we’re taking you to the boss.”

Great.

She was in a freaking video game, when two brainless thugs captured her for a reason that was still a mystery to her and was now taking her to the den of a final boss on the level.

***

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

Should she even be surprised that said den had a design of a video game? Dark, cold, adjourned with different kinds of weapons scattered here and there, huge desk in the middle and three monitors that took up the entire wall?

Almost grotesque.

But hey, who was she to judge the taste of Gotham’s criminals, right?

She probably should have been terrified, praying to every higher power to be saved by Batman, Red Hood, Robin or – damn – even Poison Ivy in the worst case, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to that particular emotion. It was like her brain refused to anchor in reality and everything turned into a freaking dream she was sure to wake up from any second now.

Though maybe getting back to reality in which Dick was still with Sienna and she was brokenhearted wasn’t really a good alternative.

Right. Dick.

Did he even notice her gone? Or was he too busy patching things up with his girlfriend, already forgetting about Y/N? The girl he claimed to love?

A kick in the back of the knees that send her to the floor (again) made her realize that while getting lost in her thoughts she missed the obviously very important and very detailed speech of the villain who was describing his wicked plan to take over the world and –

“Ouch!”

“Stupid bitch.”

“It hurts!” she tried to squirm away from the kicking but it was immensely hard with her hands still bound.

“Hold the fire, boys. Easy. The lady is our guest after all and this is not how we treat guests, is it?” The goons chuckled darkly, because clearly guests were deserving of a far more cruel and brutal treatment. “Now, now, don’t be scared little one. We won’t hurt you. Much. At least not until you give us what we want.”

The owner of a deep, husky voice, who clearly was the host of the party finally decided to step forward and show his face.

Well.

Not exactly showing his face.

***

 “Could you at least tell me who we’re dealing with here?!” Dick muttered, keeping his voice low as he and Shadow pulled at the abandoned building on the outskirts of Gotham. “Do you even know?”

“Why? Does it matter?” Shadow joked “Would you use a different contingency plan for Riddler and another one for Two Face?”

“Could you please stop joking about it? This is my girlfriend we’re talking about!”

The emotions started to come to the surface, and Nightwing started becoming uncharacteristically scatter-brained.

“Idiot. Keep it down!” Shadow hissed, pulling him behind the corridor crease, miraculously avoiding the watchful gaze of the guardian. “Here’s what I get for putting myself at risk. Nightwing announcing his presence to the entire compound filled with criminals. Get yourself together. Or is it too hard for you?!”

Dick grimaced. He hated himself at the moment. For both losing his cool, especially in front of someone who could hold it against him and for missing on precious time since every second counted.

“Y/N. Think about Y/N.” he muttered to himself “She needs your help. Now more than ever.”

He took a few deep breaths, calming down the storm inside him to the point where he was actually in control and capable of turning the fear and concern into anger.

If anyone touched his Y/N….

“You back?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m back.” He opened his eyes, completely focused, eyes sharp, instincts on high alert. “Tell me who’s the fucker who dared to take her.”

“Black Mask.”

“Fucker.” The word left Dick’s lips without the involvement of his brain. That was how much he loved her. The golden boy, teasing, joking and playful nightwing turned into a machine, swearing and ready to freaking kill, almost Red Hood like.

“So? Ready to kick some asses?”

“After you.” The predatory smirk blooming on his face was a sign of incoming violence and spilling blood.

***

Her screams mixed with the ones coming from the corridor in a beautiful, gory cacophony of sounds. An ode painted with blood and pain. Maybe that was why for a longer moment no one in the room actually paid attention nor was willing to try and differentiate the sources of notes in the song.

 Or maybe it was the fact that the goons’ cries were extremely high-pitched, almost reaching the same key as the yelling of a woman trapped in the torture machine, losing strength with every passing second.

“Oh no, no, no, no.” Black Mask laughed cruelly “you don’t get to pass out on me yet. Info first.” The iron grip on her wrist tightened even more, as if that was even possible, cutting into skin and muscle, amplifying the blood loss.

For the last whatever-time-passed she was kept on the edge of consciousness as if Black Mask was hoping that choking, hurting and injecting with some substance would cause her to lose inhibitions and finally blurt out the information he was so dead set on getting.

Who is Nightwing.

Who is Batman.

Any piece of information would turn out to be useful, but since the beginning of the questioning it became painfully clear that that stupid girl was either too weak or too strong to answer.

Too weak because it seemed that even the slightest amount of pain made her repeatedly pass out and too strong because on those intermittent periods where she actually was conscious and aware of the surroundings enough to talk was the one making her extremely stubborn and uncooperative.

And Black Mask was losing his patience.

Here he was, gracing that little scum with his presence instead of submitting her to the treatment of his lower men, with less than gracious methods and she had the audacity to be bratty.

A vicious circle in which he was using the moments to get information only to be refused, beating her again and ending up with a thoughtless body, achieving nothing, over and over again.  

He should have just stuck to using his rat, skillfully planted in Gotham.  

“Fuck!” he yelled seeing as once again she went limp on the chair only because he pulled her nail. “Stupid bitch!”

“Mmmmm…” Y/N muttered and for a moment the room was completely quiet save from her little whimpering.

And then –

“OUCH!”

“FUCK!”

“RETREAT!”

“The hell?” Black Mask walked to the door and looked through the peephole. “Fuck!” Seeing his guards and men being thrown in different directions, sounds of yelling and snapping bones alongside with blood streaming on the floor was not the best view before 7 p.m. and definitely not the best without his favorite drink. Under any other circumstances he would be giving zero fucks about the violence outside the safe door, but now – he had a plan to complete and no one, fucking no one would prevent him from succeeding.

The loud sound of a door’s guard crashing with the metal surface and pictorially sliding down with crushed skull caused Sionis to quickly recalibrate his plan.

Seemed like Red Hood was in the house. And not that Sionis was scared, but-

“Hold them back!” he yelled, grabbing the limp body of Y/N and rushing towards the safety exit, to the roof where his private jet was landed just in case of emergencies.

And this was clearly an emergency.

***

The door broke about 30 seconds after Black Mask rushed to the passage.

“You carry explosives with you everywhere?” Dick muttered, equally impressed and shocked.

“What? It comes in handy and -”

“AAAAH!” Both goons rushed at the two vigilantes before Shadow could finish a sentence, but their brave loud cries quickly turned to quiet, broken sobbing as they were laid down.

“Be a sweetheart and tell me where he went?” Nightwing leaned over the goon with an almost soft smile.

“mhm…” inert waving towards the passage was enough of an answer.

“Good boy. Thanks.”

***

“NO!!” she yelled as Black Mask was dragging her through the roof. Sudden realization of all the things that could go wrong making her much more valiant and strong. As long as she was still in Gotham and not exported to another city or – god forbid – country – could result in being deemed as another missing-without-trail- person.

That is – if someone was even looking for her in the first place.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes at the thought that she could be so easily forgotten.

And the terror she was holding back for so long, since the moment of being dragged into that black SUV, finally found a way out…

“NIGHTWING!!!”

***

“Y/N!!”

A dead man would hear that cry and even a dead man would rise from the dead at the sheer desperation beaming from the voice.

“Y/N!!! I’m coming!”

***

“You’re becoming a trouble!” Black Mask hissed, slapping her repeatedly, drawing another stream of blood this time from the broken lip.

“I – “

“I’m so done with you. Should have just killed you the second you turned out to be of zero significance to the cause. Now come here you little bitch-“

“No!!”

She blindly started to run away, only to trip (obviously) and ending up back in Sionis’ grip.

“NO!!”

He was too strong and she was too scared and stiff to fight anymore. Digging heels into the ground did no harm and was definitely no hindrance in being pulled towards the ledge of the 10-stories building.

“NO!!!!”

“Y/N!!”

Both the girl and Sionis froze for a moment as another male voice cut into the screaming match.

But it was too late.

***

“Go!” Shadow was probably the only one who didn’t lose cold blood.  “GO!”

***

She was falling.

And it was beautiful.

Knowing that she would finally be free of all the pain, of all the heartbreak, of the guilt coming with betraying another girl by sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend. Liberated from being stuck in the memories of the past when she was actually happy, before everything went to shit.

“I love you Dick…” she whispered, finally crashing to the ground.

***

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Oh, come on, not this again!” Shadow hissed, extremely dissatisfied with the fact that everyone she encountered was far more interested in getting to know her personality, rather than fearing her killer skills.

For Black Mask it took a record time of ten minutes before calling defeat and ending up bound and being taken by the GCPD.

***

“Y/N.”

She opened one eye and much to her surprise found out that she was not a celestial body looking at her bloodied pulp of a body on the pavement.

“I love you too…” the warm embrace around her was welcomed but in time started to become a little suffocating and her battered body refused to be squeezed.

“Dickie…”

“Shh… shh, I got you.” He whispered again, caressing her hair, kissing her forehead, doing everything to assure both her and himself that it was all over and that he got her, that she was safe and he would never let it happen again. Never.

“H-How? W-what happened-? I – I thought-“

“You thought so little of me, didn’t you?”

“Idiot.”

“Hey!”

“Fucking prick! I swear if it wasn’t for this – “ she swung her injured arm in the air “I’d slap the hell out of you!”

“I saved you!”

“I almost died and you’re making jokes!”

Oh. Right. Maybe, just maybe given the circumstances it was slightly inappropriate.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. You better.” She pouted, but he knew better, wiping the unshed tears. “It’s over.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“What happened?”

“I’m an acrobat, remember? I jumped. And damn, I wish someone had that on video because it was really one of my best – Ouch! Ouch! Ok, ok! Stop it! Point taken!”

***

“How are we doing here?”

Once Sionis was seated in the back of a police car, hands were shaken and words of gratitude exchanged Shadow walked towards Dick and Y/n.

“I think she’ll live.” Dick teased with a smirk, predictably moving a safe distance away from his -- .

Right.

Maybe there was no happy ending after all with that messed up relationship thing hanging over their heads like a freaking axe.

“Can’t say the same about Nightwing though” Y/N pushed the thought away, settling on sending him a death stare for making fun of her again.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I think you made up for whatever crime you were trying to redeem, Shadow. Thank you. I owe you. You saved my –“

“Girlfriend?” Shadow prompted, looking between Y/N and Dick, making them both blush in a bit of embarrassment.

“It’s complicated-“ they both said at the same time.

“Oh, trust me, it’s not complicated at all!” Shadow laughed

“What do you mean? You don’t know-“

“I know more than you think. Haven’t I proved that already?” Shadow turned around, making sure no one was watching and slowly took of her mask.

***

Fast forward. One week later.

Y/N was walking out of the hospital. It seemed like her arm was healing nicely and there were no complications, though her doctor was very stern while telling her she was supposed to rest and not get herself involved in any form of physical activity.

If he only knew that she was in a relationship with Gotham’s and Bludhaven vigilante.

“Y/N!”

Speaking of which, said vigilante was now honking at her from his Porsche.

“Showoff!”

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!

She laughed and jumped inside the vehicle.

“You’re supposed to hold the doors open for me!”

“Mh. Missed you too, sunshine.” He leaned over the gearbox kissing her with a cheeky grin. “How’s the hand?”

“She’ll live.”

“Quoting me already, princess? Careful, I might think you consider me a superstar or something.”

“Idiot!”

“Ouch! You’re hurting me. But I’m willing to forgive you, giving the circumstances of late.”

He started the engine and took the way to the city.

“Yeah. Crazy, right?” her head fell onto the car’s headrest and she sighed heavily. “I mean – who would have thought…”

***

Flashback

“S-Sienna!?”

“Hey you two.”

“h-hey? What do you mean “hey”?! What is this?! Some sick joke?!”

In her stupor Y/N missed the fact that Dick was as shocked (if not more) as her. Hence it couldn’t have been any conspiracy against Y/N’s mental health.

“Whoa! Whoa! Relax!” Shadow Sienna raised her hands in surrender “Dick-“

“The hell?! How do you know? Damn it-!” he forgot about all the rules of safety and tore off his mask. Getting to the bottom of this shit was far more important.

“- I meant what I said. Really! About that redemption arc! Just – just listen to me!”

“Five minutes.”

“It was all a scheme-“

“Well let me tell you, your explanation is starting off the wrong foot” Dick groaned, pulling Y/N to his side to strengthen her mentally.

“I am Black Mask’s niece in the second line!” Sienna explained dramatically “wait-! Wait-! I have no loyalty to him! Not anymore!”

“One minute left.” Dick hissed

“It was all a plan. He had some vague idea about the ties between the one Dick Grayson and Batman and Y/N and wanted to use all of you against each other.”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Yes, fine! I was his spy for a moment, but then you two-. God! You love each other! And I just couldn’t- I couldn’t-“

Y/N wriggled out of Dick’s embrace and walked to Sienna, grabbing both her hands in her healthy one.

“Thank you.”

End of flashback

***

 “I really hope you took your golden visa with you, cause I am about to go crazy with this shopping spree.”

“Hey. No limits on Bruce’s cards. He won’t even notice the loss of a couple thousands and I got my girl back, so-“

“I think we should send-“

“I already took care of that.”

After all the trouble and drama they got their happy ending.

***

In another part of town a certain girl found a fruit and sweet basket on her doorstep. With a little, but meaningful card.

It seemed like she found her happy ending too.

One in which she was no longer used by anyone and treated as a villain.

With the view for a future of freedom.

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p @madness1999sworld

@leovergurl

[twddixonn]

Stay

Daryl Dixon x Reader one shot

desc: If I had asked you to stay, would you have?

wc: 3.074k

warnings/tags: not proof read!!! (I’m so sorry I never have the patience to re-read) very slight swearing, slight(?)angst

‘Everything changed that day.

The day Rick blew up the bridge to save his family, his friends - the other community’s.

We all mourned; for a man that might not even be dead.

The changes were slow at first, no one knew what to do.

I thought our family broke the day we lost Glenn and Abraham, the day we could have lost Daryl. The day that could have been our last.

The day we lost Carl.

But then we lost rick.

Dead or alive.

We lost him.

Michonnes screams still ring in my ears at times, the kind of times where everything gets to quiet and there’s no escape from it.

The expressions that glued on to everyone’s faces like a still image at the front of my mind when I try to sleep.

And then it was over.’

Slamming your diary shut, chucking it in some random drawer on your desk: you leaned back on your chair blowing a stray hair out of your face, staring at a drawing Judith and Rj did of you and uncle Daryl.

Over time, you slowly withdrew yourself from the others.

Nothing was the same anymore, Rick wasn’t around to keep everything in check and keep everyone together and gradually - everyone split for the most part.

Maggie left, leaving with Georgie in hopes of building a new community.

Michonne was mourning the love of her life, whilst bringing up Judith and Rj; the son Rick never got the chance to know about.

Carol and Ezekiel ruled over the kingdom.

Daryl left to go find his brother.

So you kept to yourself and mourned not only Rick, but your family too.

Three knocks sounded outside your room alerting your attention and snapping you back into reality yet again.

“Coming.” You acknowledged whoever was standing on the other side of that door.

Sighing you stood up and walked over taking a grip on the door handle before pulling it open, “What?” You snapped.

Carols eyes gleamed at you as she spoke with a small smile on her lips, “Hm, pleased to see you too Y/N”

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t know it was you.” You gave a thin lipped smile back to her.

“It’s fine. Come with me.” Before you could protest she grabbed your wrist and begun to drag you downstairs, heading straight to the front door and grabbing a backpack on the way.

“What are you doing? Are you going somewhere?” Why did she drag you down and out the house if she was just going to be leaving so quick?

“No.” She stated.

“No?”

“No, I’m not going somewhere. We are. Grab your stuff. Let’s go” Carols little grin never leaving her face.

You’d like to say you’re surprised at her bluntness and secrecy but she’s always had this side to her, she just knows how and when to play it.

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You’d been walking for a while, thoughts racing through your mind on what Carol could be up too: what little plan she’s concocted this time round.

You can’t remember the last time you actually saw her. It was rare for her to visit Alexandria and when she did you were always cooped up in your room or out helping with whatever was asked of you.

She never came to Alexandria unless she was-

“Stop.” You tried to assert dominance in your voice, yet the slight crack as you spoke didn’t seem very convincing.

“Stop walking Carol. I know what we’re doing out here. I need you to tell me why.” It was more of a statement than a question at this point.

She halted the second time round you spoke, muttering something to herself along the lines of ‘shit’ before turning and giving a smile, although it shared more resemblance to a grimace.

The kind of look a child gives to their parent after they’ve been caught doing something they definitely shouldnt be doing.

“Y/N.. I had to do something. You need to see him” She sounded exasperated.

“I had to do something because you haven’t. After everything we all went through.

You shut down on us.

You wouldn’t come out your room unless someone asked you for help with something.

You barely speak.

You just hide away, not letting anyone even attempt to get back in.

You let Daryl leave. You didn’t even try to stop him! You let him continue with these.. these sick delusions that Rick is still out there somewhere. You love him, and you still let him leave.”

Carols never been one to be afraid to say what she thinks: although never with you.

“You think I wanted things to be this way? I shut myself away because you left.

Maggie left. Michonne lost herself. I stepped back because it was the right thing to do at the time, furthermore it was still the right thing to do after the time passed.” Drawing in an uneven breath, you continued -

“I also didn’t let Daryl leave. He left because it’s what he wanted. You know as well as I do, had I of tried to convince him to stay, it would have been pointless. He believes his brothers out there so he went looking for him! Just like you believed Sophia was out there and we went looking for her!” Panic struck you as you realised what you had said in your last sentence, how could you be so cruel to bring up a woman’s dead daughter?

Carol let out a puff of air before placing her hand on your forearm and then dragging you into her arms, almost cradling you.

“I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay. But we’re going to see Daryl and that’s final.” She backed up slightly, a hand cupping your jaw as she whispered, “You don’t deserve to lose the man you love, not in a world like this.”

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Anxiety.

It’s the only thing you could feel as you neared closer to the river Carol was due to meet Daryl at. You hadn’t seen him in.. you couldn’t even remember how long it had truly been.

All you remember was the day he packed his bag and announced he was heading out to look for Rick, entire belief filled with Rick being alive.

He came to see you before he left.

Explained why he was going: not saying how long he’d be gone.

You can still remember the feeling of his hands on your waist as he pulled you into his body, his head in the crook of your neck as tears lined up on your waterline; you remember making sure he didn’t see them fall.

You remember the way he leaned back to look at you, one hand still on your waist with the other trailing up to the back of your head as his eyes bored into yours before eventually looking all over your face- avoiding your eyes the second time round.

The way his intense stare ended up on your lips for just maybe a couple of seconds too long for this to be considered only a friendship.

You can remember his face inching closer almost as if he was going to stop fighting the thoughts in his head and finally kiss you; but it never came.

His hands left your head, left your waist.

Then he was gone.

That was the last time you saw Daryl.

Carol stopped walking and glanced back at you, noticing the distant stare and she could tell you were deep in thought, thinking of him.

“Why are you stopping? Come on! We’re pretty much here.”

A few more steps forward with your head bowed down, you saw the river edge right before your feet.

Bracing yourself to hear his voice.

It never came.

“Let’s go. He’s not here but he has to be around somewhere, his stuff’s still lying about.” Before you could complain and make the suggestion of heading back, Carols hand had yet again found its way to your wrist and she was dragging you behind her, determined to find him.

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“Hands up. Who are you and what are you doing on my property?”

Carol came to a quick halt, you bumping into her back as she dropped your wrist and slowly raised her hands, glancing at you with her eyes telling you to follow her actions.

You raised your hands right as the woman repeated her earlier questions.

You could practically hear the cogs turning in Carols brain before she decided to take on a familiar role, the role of the innocent helpless lady she’s played many times before -

“Pl- please don’t.. don’t shoot us. We don’t have anything on us. J-just trying to find a friend. We’ll leave, right now.. we’ll go. Just please.. d-don’t hurt us.”

You fought hard to not chuckle at her.

How couldn’t you?

She plays it so well.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Anything that was going to come out of your mouth, whether it be words or just air; got stuck.

He’s here.

He’s safe.

He looks healthy.

He looks.. happier.

“Y/N? Carol?” Daryl couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d seen Carol on and off since he left Alexandria, of course he had; she’s his best friend. Who else would care more than his best friend to keep bringing him supplies?

Seeing Y/N however, had him dumbfounded.

The look of rage the lady holding the shotgun at you and Carol had, never seem to let up before she spoke again.

“You know these people?”

“Yeah, s’my family.” He muttered to her.

Maybe this really was a mistake.

You shouldn’t have come.

Raising an eyebrow at you both, the woman whispered to Daryl then turned her back and headed inside, not without shooting you and Carol one last glare.

“Who’s ‘little miss I’m gonna shove a gun in random people’s faces and give relentless attitude until they tell me what I demand to know from them’?” Carols voice taking on a higher pitch as she mimicked the stranger.

This time you couldn’t hold back on the chuckle that left your lips.

Daryl’s eyes shot over to you, making you put your head back down and shove Carol slightly to make her talk as you hoped to just blend into the background again.

“Came to bring you stuff.” She chucked the bag at his feet before continuing on, “You were supposed to be at the river but obviously you had.. better plans. So we just followed the paths that looked most used and here we are. Surprise! Excited?” Sarcasm dripping from her voice the longer she spoke to him.

No one made any attempt to move or speak, so Carol spoke up again,

“I need to go for a pee. I’ll be back.” Her hand landing on your shoulder, her eyes looking into yours practically begging you to at least try and talk to him.

“How-“

“Is-“

You both began to speak at the same time.

You took this as the opportunity to quickly spit out some words, make him talk first to ease the tension.

“Sorry. You first.”

“How’re yer doin’?” It was a murmur, but it was something from him.

“I’m-“ taking a slight pause, debating between telling him the absolute truth or just making up a load of bullshit, the latter being more appealing.

“I’m good. Thanks. How about you?”

“Good. I’m a’right. I’m still searching. I ain’t givin’ up. Not till I find ‘im” Daryl was fiddling with his fingers, a telltale sign to you that he was just as nervous as you were.

He nodded his head towards a little bench, signalling you to sit with him.

Your mind is telling you to run as fast as you can, escape this situation before it’s too late.

Your feet move before you can take notice of your mind.

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The silence was beginning to grow deafening. Carol was yet to return, you knew she wasn’t going to though.

Not until you and Daryl had a somewhat decent, somewhat truthful conversation.

She was probably crouched down in one of the many bushes surrounding you, eavesdropping on everything you’re yet to say to one another.

“Are you any closer? To finding him? Finding anything?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.

Truth is, you weren’t certain you wanted to know.

Either way it would end in shit creek somehow.

A grunt left Daryl, “Nah. I ain’t gonna stop till I do tho.”

All you could do was nod in acknowledgment to him.

“How’s Alexandria? Michonne ‘n the kids? Yerself?.”

How were you expected to answer this?

He’d already asked you about yourself before, why again?

You stammered over your words before sighing and deciding you may as well be honest,

“It’s fine.. I guess. I don’t really see Michonne much nowadays. The kids are great, they come see me every so often usually with a new drawing or some fun new fact Judith read in one of her homework books. Sometimes they come to see me just to see if I’m okay.” You couldn’t help but sign again.

“Tha’s good. Least the kids are okay. Y’self? Y’never answered me.”

Daryl adored those kids so much. You could only imagine how much he must miss them. Miss his home, though you’re certain he doesn’t class it as that anymore.

“Fine.” What else could you say?

“Jus’ fine?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I? That classes as fine in my books.”

“Missed yer sarcasm, missed ya.”

Daryl’s confession of missing you made your heart thump the strongest it has in a long time, before it plummeted to your stomach and presented itself as a nauseous feeling.

“You seem like you’re doing well. Got a hot new girlfriend huh?” God, you tried to crack a smile and seem like you were happy for him but the words seemed to burn your throat as they rose up and scorched your lips the minute they left.

Daryl instantly noticed the disdain you had to the words that came from your own mouth.“Nah, s’not like tha’.”

His accent came out thicker in just that short sentence. Was he lying to you, to reserve your own feelings from getting hurt? To stop you getting upset with him?

“Oh. Keeping your bed warm then.”

Once those words left your mouth you began to doubt yourself.

Perhaps you should have adjusted your tone as you spoke; made it more of a question.

“No. It’s.. s’complicated s’all.”

Daryl found his mind wandering, stirring up all the things he wishes to say.

He used to see you every morning, go on a run for supplies and come back with numerous different stories to tell you.

Even made some of them up just to have an excuse to talk to you for longer.

Now he hasn’t seen you in so so long and he’s completely jammed up. Can’t find anything to say that will make this situation better.

“Can I ask you something?” It was now or never for you. You knew you’d most likely not see him again for an incredibly long time, if at all. So it seemed like the right time to ask him what’s been playing on your mind.

He hummed at you, edging you to continue with whatever you wanted to ask me.

You were so sure of what you were about to say, but hesitation still snuck in on you from every angle.

“The day you left. When.. when you held me at my door. Did.. were..” you trailed off, you felt so fucking stupid asking him, regret for even bringing it up.

“G’on”

Now or never. “Were you going to kiss me?”

He stayed silent. Just like that day, his eyes went everywhere but your eyes.

Fidgeting with his hands again, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

“I thought ‘bout it.” He thought about it every minute he was with you; every minute he wasn’t with you.

“Wanted to.” Wanted it like nothing else.

“I ain’t think it was the right thing to do.”

It was the right thing. He knows that.

“Why?” It’s all you could manage. You were so thankful to be sat, your knees felt weak and you’re half convinced your legs turned into literal jelly.

“Knew ya’d follow me. Couldn’t have you out ‘ere. S’not safe, ain’t wanna risk yer safety.”

“Oh.” It was all you could manage. You should have said more, you *know* you should have.

And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Makes sense. At least I know now.” You couldn’t add anything further at this point.

You wanted the conversation about this over with.

You wanted him to kiss you now to make up for it. For him to come back with you. Despite you knowing it would never happen.

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“Phew. Such a long journey for such a short toilet trip.” Carols way of announcing she was back - she had never left - broke you and Daryl out of what ever trance you were in.

“What did I miss?”

You stood up abruptly, losing your balance slightly as you did so. Daryl’s hand made its way to your waist to steady you, just like it did the day he left.

“We need to go. It was good to see you.”

You pulled away from him, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder.

Carol raises a brow at you before saying a short goodbye to Daryl and giving him a hug, telling him when she’d roughly be back with more supplies.

You began to walk off, wanting nothing more than to get back to your own personal safe haven in Alexandria.

Also before you opened your mouth and blurted something out yet again.

“Y/N”

Turning around, Daryl took a couple steps closer to you, pulling you in for a hug.

Head in the crook of your neck, you could have sworn he inhaled the scent of your hair, your skin; something.

“Be safe m’kay? Y’can come whenever ya wanna.”

Your heart throbbed. You nodded at him, despite knowing the truth yourself; you wouldn’t be back.

You both stepped back, maybe it was more on your part because you needed to escape this situation.

Carol walked ahead. You went to follow in pursuit.

“Daryl?”

“Mhm?”

“Back then. If I had asked you to stay, would you have?”

“Y’never asked. Guess we ain’t ever gonna know.”

He knows.

He would have stayed.

Times like these he thinks he should have.

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authors note!: hi! If you made it this far I hope you enjoyed it!:) I got more into this one compared to the first fic I posted (hence why there’s a bit more effort with a banner photo and such!) feedback is welcome, I’m always looking for ways to improve! Thank you all :-)

[sereinreality]

making a luis lives au and having it lead up to re6 so i just want to write down my ideas so far

- ada saves him without a shadow of a doubt. somehow, someway, she gets him off the island and takes him to a hospital to heal while she spends those next couple of months making plans. when luis is properly healed, she would offer one of two options; either work with her or she’ll leave him some things but they have to keep little to no contact. luis obviously goes for the first choice.

- they definitely bond over the course of time they work together from re5 to re6. i like to think their similar backgrounds, history, and goals bring them closer together. luis would always try to find a reason to throw festivities, he’s very insistent on celebrating ada’s birthday or any holiday.

- they do a lot of moving around which means time to kill and lots of stories. luis likes to play a game where he tells a story and ada has to guess wether it actually happened or he just made it up. most of the time he’s lying but argues “you never know! maybe someday it will be true!” it makes ada smile. luis tries to make her smile as often as he can.

- luis didn’t change in terms of making jokes. he figures there’s no point in falling to despair when you’ve been given your last chance so he makes the most of it. it annoyed ada at first, thinking that luis wasn’t taking this seriously but upon closer inspection, she realized he’s grown way more cautious than before. she excused some of the teasing after that but never backed down from some back and forth

- ada and luis are like soulmates in the way that they are two sides of the same coin. where there’s one, you’ll find the other. they are connected by coincidence but they treasure it. more than anything, it’s a deep understanding between them. everything they did to survive, to get out of their respective situations, the choices they made, and the loneliness they felt. luis swears that as long as he lives, ada will never feel alone again. ada says likewise. both of them mean it with their whole heart.

- under NO circumstances can leon learn that luis survived. it’s a depressing truth they both understand that if leon got the smallest hint of luis’s survival that he would begin a manhunt to find him. they have too much work being carried out that cannot be compromised. that doesn’t stop luis from searching for leon’s name in government files or papers, he keeps up to date with anything where he’s involved. what can he say? the knight misses his prince.

- that being said leon does not handle post valdelobos very well. he still has luis’s lab key which he keeps in a box tucked away somewhere. sometimes the smell of smoke brings him back to spain and the mines where he lost someone he’s grown so close to in just a small amount of time. it shouldn’t break him as much as it does but it’s something that stays in the back of his mind. leon feels like he missed something. that there was an opportunity open to him that he failed to see, it could have been something but now he’ll never know. the door shut in his face just when leon realized what was being offered to him.

- once he saw don quixote displayed on a bookstore window with a lovely red cover and bought it immediately. it sits on his shelf collecting dust, leon hasn’t had time to read it or so he says.

- the trio do reunite in re6 but more importantly, luis catches wind of some of the stunts leon had been pulling and their first interaction after years was luis marching up to leon as he backs into a wall. luis is shouting in spanish, probably complaining about leon not prioritizing his own safety, then switching to english so he can yell in a language leon understands. it was here that he catches leon’s face. he’s so much older now, worn out like leather. leon looked exhausted but he also seemed so amazed? confused? whatever it was, he looked softer now and his eyes widen a little. he simply says, “you’re alive?”

[pricegouge]

how we feel about call of duty kaiju horror?

(I’m watching a Godzilla movie tonight so✨)

-🫀

it's the fact that you knew exactly what you were doing with each keystroke that's killing me here

vibrating at a speed imperceptible to the human eye: i feel pretty normal about it.

okay i'm at a low point mental-health-slash-hope-in-the-world wise rn which means ofc i've been thinking about my sweet baby puppy, godzilla, a lot recently. just something about a larger than life monster of our own making come to visit hell upon us that's rather apt, you know?

so originally i was just gonna ramble about that as a response to this - and how easily you could plug an elite squad of soldiers into that formula, make them the focus as they fight back against the kaiju. do it kinda like shin godzilla, maybe, where it's more a procedural than anything to highlight the incompetence of their orders - the us versus them, versus it; where the pieces are government/military officials, civilians, and of course the kaiju. and then bring it back around to what they have to resort to to actually get the job done. trusting the people most effected by the actions of their overhead, and all that. which i'm super into, but knew wouldn't necessarily have made for a good fic. and then beloved @stellewriites did what she does best and seduced me into writing a little snippet after suggesting the focus be more on the after-effects, like a cloverfield situation.

and she was fucking right, but unfortunately that's not what i ended up doing here because i saw kaiju horror and blanked out a bit writing an action scene lmao.

shelling, active fire, hand to hand combat. nothing prepares you for something like this.

hell, even falling out of a hele hadn't been this bad - hadn't instilled within him this fear, just before drop, all kitted out and ready for action. as if anything on their persons could actually defend them from the screeching behemoth below. offense had been unofficially deemed hopeless. not even the stealth bombers had done any good, their blast zones only succeeding in creating more debris, more shrapnel. more rubble to bury the first wave of casualties.

they'd been assured there wouldn't be any more bombing, not while there were boots on the ground trying to minimize the growing death toll, guiding the frantic packs of terrified civilians looking for refuge.

gaz was fairly sure they had told the first deployment the same thing.

it's a struggle not to assess his team, so he doesn't fight it. takes in their expressions as they hang out the open side of the blackhawk, faces underlit by flame and heat. they look grim, worse than he's ever seen them. but cap's voice is still his standard surly growl over the comms when he tells nik to bring them closer to the… thing.

ghost is the only one brave enough to question him. "price?"

"just want a better look," the captain grumbles, as if the scale of it could even allow for some sort of misunderstanding.

"it's a big ass lizard, cap," gaz supplies, unable to hold his tongue as the creature looms closer, nik's steady hand bringing the hele up and over its head, outside of the range of its relatively short arms. "what more do you need to see?"

price eyes him, chill of his gaze turned gunmetal in the thin light. a warning. "don't know enough about it to be fightin' it."

"are we fightin' it then, cap?" soap, borderline hopeful. like he thinks he can save the world with a well-placed sticky bomb, even after everything he's seen.

"you saw what it did in pari -!"

price cuts him off. "might have to. should know more about it."

like it's got an achilles' heel they'll be able to spot while dropping, their flare lights casting a grim red glow over the mountainous mass of plates and scales. they ring it as best they can - a valiant effort to keep their paracords untangled. from each other, from the mess of wires clinging to the skeleton frames still standing. from it. gaz lucks out, manages to draw its head. his flare light casts eerie shadows on the smoke behind it, jagged cuts of spiny bone that reach like fingers skyward, as if to pluck the circling hele from the air like no more than a noisome fly hanging over head. there's a gradual slope across a heavy brow, its face wide-set and surprisingly flat, as if evolution knew it wouldn't be snuffling around in the dirt for food no matter what hellish recesses of the earth it had crawled out of. he sees the teeth first, blanched and deadly in a mouth that gapes slightly, soft pink tissue glinting with drool in the wan, flickering light. the shape of it seems to shift in the smoke, disorienting in its incomprehensibility. gaz tracks the nose - up, in, across -

the eye rolls, a ring of sclera giving it an unexpected humanity. it's beady, the iris the same dark, muddy sort of gray that blends with the rest of its plating. defensive evolutionary traits. against what, gaz did not want to know. it flickers red and orange in the light. alive, wary. a thick nictitating membrane draws back, reveals a depth of color which can't quite hide the pupil - nor the way it dilates, trained on him.

it ducks his head as he falls, assessing just as much as gaz is. he reaches for his gun, automatic, and the ridge of brow above its eyes twitches, lowers. there's a series of pops, loud enough to hear even above the thunder of air in his ears, and then a light flickers to life in its gullet, electric blue and feeble in its infancy.

debrief hadn't mentioned bioluminescence. he decides he does not want to be the first one to find out what that's about.

tipping himself forward, he propels himself faster. his angle widens, brings him around the creature's side a bit, out of its field of view. he follows along its broad flank, dipping past huge, clawed hands which curl as if in disgust as he passes. he pulls his chute somewhere around its hip, tries to plot his land despite his general lack of visibility. he's just settled on a gap in the buildings up ahead when the air stirs, a quick updraft that rocks him where he hangs, sending smoke swirling as something slices through it, maybe twenty meters above the ground. he keeps his eyes peeled for another jumper, cautious about mixed lines even though he should still be well away from soap's position.

but it's not another jumper. he sees it first in the reflection of a busted window, shatter-proof glass left hanging concave in its frame. light catches in it, a sporadic wisp refracting through the crumple points, pulsing with movement. electric blue.

he casts about for its source, finds it off to his right. it slips through the air like a knife, smooth and deadly enough to have him running through a list possible drone types he may have run afoul of. he comes up short, though he wouldn't be surprised to learn they'd resorted to test tech. last thing he needs, though he doesn't start to seriously worry until another one appears, just slightly larger, moving in sync with the first. they arch out and around to his left just as another flickers to light directly before them. again, slightly larger than the last - though maybe a little bit closer to it as well.

the next one is heralded by a quiet humming, low enough he thinks he's imagining things until his feed starts crackling with static. he pulls his cords so he can face it more fully, and the chain of lights whip away from him, circle back behind the creature with enough force to shift the air again, unexpected draft pulling him up, up.

the beast faces him, turned fully with a deadly kind of silence kyle hadn't expected. its mouth hangs agape, faint blue light leaking from between its teeth, painting the surrounding smoke blue until it looks like xenon breath, just as fatal. the aura seems to build around it, and it takes gaz much too long to realize its being backlit, the strange lights gathering behind it until the smoke all around glows blue and white and it bows, sinks to his level with an open maw. the light in its throat crystallizes into a cold white while building in intensity, lock step with the intimidation display climbing over its shoulders, the massive plates there flickering to life, veined with phosphorescence.

he'd be nowhere in life if he hadn't learned to listen - when needed, at least.

suspended as he is, his options are limited. he yanks at cords that do nothing, the air gone so still in the creature's deadly silence that it won't even let him fall. like a vacuum, just waiting for the collapse.

"fuck. shit," he hisses, panic building.

the thing shakes its head, an audible rumble building alongside the deafening hum of static. gaz pulls his emergency release and feels his stomach fall before he does, tumbling away after it with flailing limbs, unable to even right himself into a controlled dive before he's catching his full weight on his shoulder, the composite hull of a hele groaning under his mass before the world tilts sideways once more, flops him onto his stomach where his cheek grinds into dirt and metal runners.

"flare!" a thick accent calls from over head, and kyle has just enough wits about him to recognize that the thick trail of red crawling along the floor of the hele is coming from him. he draws a knee up, hands swatting uselessly at himself in search of the strap that keeps the flare tied to his ankle, smoke filtering through his mask until he's -

it's hard to tell what happens first, the blinding light or the g-force which crashes into the hele from above - pushes it down even as he stays in place, colliding with the ceiling hard enough to knock the remaining wind out of him. alarms erupt all over the dash, the noise of them blotted out by a stillness in his ears, as if they'd been submerged - an immense pressure against his eardrum which stifles even his own pulse.

until it didn't, sound rushing back in a cacophony of sirens and shrieking metal, the creature's roar only drown out by the dull sound of impact and the sudden build of force that follows, glass shattering as buildings shook and crumbled. nik curses, something in russian. flare smoke builds in the cab but it doesn't even matter, not when the debris outside the windshield is so thick nik can't even see the approaching church until he's almost gone through the belfry. he banks right, hard, and gaz has a panicked moment of free fall as the open door he'd already fallen through twice today rolls to meet him and he slips through it once more, fingers barely even managing to catch on the frame before he's falling again, a two story drop into the blessedly bare church courtyard with a winded huff, vision tunneling as he stares up uncomprehendingly at the streak of light that's pierced the sky, the burning after-image of a gale force he simply has no framework for.

when he wakes up, it's to a world on fire.

if anyone is interested in that kinda post apocalyptic world, lmk. i don't wanna do any sort of series here but kaiju are my lifelong hyperfixation so i'm always happy to ramble about this sort of setting :)

[iersei]

all the things left unsaid

~

alternate caption: hello i just caught up to dndads and

WHAT THE FUCK

[fischiee]

i was watching the end of s9 for reasons and honestly it really gets me how tex is literally BEGGING church not to say goodbye!!

i mean!!!

like this is not her sounding composed or put together or flippant like we get a lot from her, she is genuinely distressed at the idea that church might be trying to sever their ties in that way

she’s panicked at the idea that they’re about to die and her last moments with him will be him disrespecting everything that he made her to be that she is

she may have loved him but she knew deep down that she couldn’t trust him, not after he was the one to bring her back and force her to live her cursed half life

[leori-the-unlearned]

the way digimon does conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: chef’s kiss <3

the way sonic idw handles creating conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: *wilting flower*

[kittlyns]

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