#and this is nothing like what I planned and I love it even more

[muffinpink02]

Hands

To celebrate the girls winning the Champions League and Alexia's beautiful goal, I thought I’d treat the kids (adult kids) to a little one shot. Enjoy!

another thank you to @lucyandalexiafan for showing me how so save a gif.... 👵

Warning - smut 18

You loved days like these, they were rare and far between. Just you and Alexia spending time together. There wasn’t a match on, no training, no interviews or social media days and no meetings. Just you and her, laying on the sofa watching some kind of animal documentary that you agreed to watch. But you had zoned out about five minutes ago, you had much more interesting things to concentrate on. 

Like always, you were playing with Alexia’s hands, you always did whenever you were close to her. You played with the tips of her fingers, studying them, running your own fingers along her long digits. Most of the time you didn’t even realise you were doing it, her hands would end up in yours as soon as you were able to hold them. You just needed to feel them, feel her skin on yours, have her fingers intertwined with your own. 

If someone was to ask what your favourite thing about Alexia was, it would be her hands. Always.

Everyone knew Alexia was talented with her feet, but only you knew how talented she was with her hands. 

Those hands could do anything.

They brought you comfort when you were sick. Alexia would stroke your clammy head until you would fall asleep on her lap to the gentle strokes of her fingers in your hair. You would watch as she made you vegetable soup to make you feel better, her skilful hands chopping up carrots like she was a Michelin star chef. 

Those hands made you feel safe, if you had a bad day at training or maybe a match that didn’t go to plan. Those hands held you tightly, they held your face, and wiped your tears away. They made you feel completely at ease, she made you feel like nothing could hurt you. 

Those hands also did other things. Those hands could make you forget your own name, they brought you pleasure to no end. When Alexia put her hands on you or in you, you would simply melt into her touch. You would do and say anything for her if it meant her hands were involved.

And she knew it. She knew what her hands did to you. She had never understood why, she didn’t see them as anything special but she liked the idea that it was something you loved of hers. And of course she used it to her advantage. 

Only four days ago Alexia had used her hands to rile you up. The blonde had an interview to attend, so when she asked you to join her you of course said yes. 

You were in the passenger seat while Alexia drove to the destination. She had her free hand mindlessly stroking your bare thigh and the other hand on the wheel, she wasn’t looking at you, it was normal for her to touch you like this. Like you, she found it hard to keep her hands off of you, but after a while you could tell she was stroking your skin with a little more intensity to it. You tried to not let her get to you, wanting to try and keep some dignity for yourself, while your underwear started to dampen.

She crept her hand higher and higher, you watched as she slipped her fingers past your shorts, edging her fingers to where your thigh met your underwear. You couldn’t hold the small whimper that escaped your lips, giving her exactly what she wanted to hear. She still hadn’t looked at you, a calm expression fixed on her face, as if she wasn’t even aware of what she was doing.  She slipped her fingers past the fabric and straight to your lips, instantly feeling how wet you were. 

That's when a devilish smile crept on her face. 

She pulled her fingers back and with ease popped open the button on your shorts, all with her eyes still on the road in front. You looked over at your girlfriend, her beautiful face still not looking at you. She slid her hand painfully slow down your front and into the now very wet fabric. She went straight past your clit and straight to your cunt, gathering your juices. You couldn’t hold the moan that escaped your lips, you heard her own small pleased hum, having felt you so wet for her already. She slowly coaxed her fingers through your lips, just barely touching your clit. 

You let out a groan. “Please Ale, don’t tease.” 

Alexia finally looked at you, a small smile on her lips. “You’re so wet already baby. Is someone a little needy?” 

You nodded your head, you moved your hips upwards, hoping the blonde would give you some more friction. And to your surprise she did, she started to circle your clit with her fingers, touching you exactly how you wanted her too. She then dipped a single finger in your core, just slightly, it was a little awkward for her arm but she still made it look effortlessly easy. 

You moaned a little louder as the length of her long finger finally pushed inside, your hips jerked up trying to get her finger deeper. But she moved her fingers up again, meeting your swollen clit. She loved teasing you, she would do it whenever she could, so you weren't too shocked when she did. 

“Alexia.” You whispered. 

“You like that, baby?” She rubbed at your clit like it was her own, knowing exactly what you liked. 

You nodded, your eyes closed. You were so desperate for her touch, you groaned as she moved her fingers faster, you could feel your juices starting to drip. But just as your body started to relax to her touch, her hand was gone. Your eyes popped open in shock from the sudden loss of her. 

“Sorry baby, we’re here.” She pulled the car up to a parking garage. “We’ll have to finish this off later. Come on, I don’t want to be late.” She parked up the car, looking over at you with a sadistic smile on her face, indicating she knew what she was doing to you. You watched as she raised her fingers to her lips and sucked off any juices that stuck to her fingers. Humming softly.

You whimpered, your thighs automatically rubbed together, trying to replace the feeling of Alexia’s hands, but of course it was no use. “Ale, no! Please. You can’t leave me like this.”

That's when you got the look. Those hazel eyes that always looked at you with nothing but love and adoration, changed dangerous. Sending shivers over your skin, you kept quiet, you knew better really. From the start of your relationship Alexia had taken on a very dominant role and you loved it. You loved submitting to her, you craved someone like Alexia. She knew your body better than you did, she understood what you wanted and she was more than happy to give it. You had made an incredible, trusting bond between you, you trusted her with your body as she trusted you with hers. 

Those hazel eyes looked at your own, her face softened, she stroked your cheek gently, bringing her thumb to your lip dragging it down. She leaned in for a gentle kiss to your lips. “You can beg for me later.” 

During the whole interview you couldn’t help but squirm in your seat. She of course could tell just how worked up you were, sending you a knowing smile every now and then. Alexia  liked to do that, knowing you wouldn’t be able to have her for a while after. You didn’t make it home quick enough before she fucked you in the back seat of her car. 

But now, you laid with your back to her front of the sofa between Alexia’s legs. During your day dream you didn’t realise you had brought Alexia’s hands to your mouth, gently stroking her knuckles on your lips, kissing her skin softly. You squirmed at the dirty memories on your mind, feeling your body heat up. 

Alexia could read your mind, like she could read your body. She smiled down at you as she watched your lips gently kiss at her knuckles, she felt her core tighten from the touch, loving the attention you gave her. 

“You okay my love? Are you not enjoying the show?” She moved her hands from yours to guide up your arms, heer finger tips tracing your skin.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m watching it.” You shivered as she brought her hands up to your face, stroking your cheeks. You closed your eyes at the delicate touch. 

“Hmm don’t lie to me bebé. I think you’re distracted.” 

You felt your body heat up, you could tell by Alexia’s sweet tone she was also done with the tv show. 

“No, I’m watching.” You squeezed your legs as you felt her hands glide into your hair. She tugged at your roots causing you to gasp quietly. 

“Turn around.” Just by her tone alone you felt your pussy clench. You turned your body as much as you could, as her hands still had a tight hold on your hair. You were between her legs, your face close to her core. Once you saw her hazel eyes you knew she was just as turned on as you. 

“You can’t go a day without my hands can you?” She stared down at you. 

You shook your head, you whispered your next words. “No.”

She smiled playfully at you. “Open your mouth, bebé.” 

Your mouth was open in a heartbeat, she slowly guided her pointer finger into your mouth, moaning as she felt your tongue. With the way you were lying between Alexia’s legs it was like you were sucking her dick, which you had done plenty of times in this position. She gripped at your hair, guiding your head up and down on her finger. 

“You look so pretty like this my love.” Alexia tilted her head to the side, watching your lips in awe.

The blonde pulled your head slightly back, pushing her middle finger through your lips. She pushed herself deeper into your throat, moaning softly as she did it. You almost gagged as her thick fingers forced your mouth to take more, but it was nothing compared to how she would fuck your throat with her strap. 

“You’re so good for me.“ 

You hummed at her words, loving the way she used your mouth. You sucked and licked at her fingers, making sure to show off, knowing she loved having you like this. Your pussy throbbed, you could feel your underwear was completely soaked now, wanting nothing more than to have her fingers in a whole other hole. 

She finally pulled her fingers out of your mouth, making sure to drag your bottom lip, your spit gathered on her fingers. The Spaniard guided you gently up to her lips, making you sit in her lap as she kissed you hard. She removed your T-shirt with quick movements, revealing your naked torso, your breast on full display for the Spaniard. She kissed your heated skin, pushing your body closer to hers, running her tongue over your perked nipples. Your body was on overdrive, her mouth on your skin like this always made your head dizzy.

“Do you want my fingers baby?” 

“Please.” You whimpered. 

She pulled your hair back, almost painfully but of course it only made you wetter. 

She tutted “That's not good enough. I don’t think you want them that much. Beg me.” Her mouth was inches from your own now. 

You groaned. “Please, Ale. I ne- I need your fingers in me, in any way you want. Please.” 

The smile on her face was dangerous. She pressed light kisses on your neck, making you moan.

“Anywhere? But baby, don’t you think I know I can put my fingers anywhere I want? In any way I want?” She teased. 

You nodded. “Sorry.” Your words were just above a whisper, your eyes were closed, your breathing erratic.

“Do I have to remind you who you belong to? Who this pussy belongs to?” 

She didn’t wait for a response, she didn’t need to. She began to push her free hand down the front of your pants. Her long fingers pushing into your underwear and between your lips. 

She groaned even louder than you. 

“Merda. You’re so wet. This is all for me.” She wasn’t asking you, she was telling you. 

She looked at you with so much pride, her hazel eyes burning into your own. You felt your cheeks blush at her reaction, feeling a little self conscious, but that didn’t last long. She kissed you with so much passion, like she wanted you to know how proud she was of you, from how your body reacted to her. 

Alexia knew she turned you on, she knew you both were completely and utterly attracted to each other. But feeling just how your body had reacted to her made her heart swell and of course, her clit. 

She didn’t wait around, she pushed two fingers straight into your core, making you gasp from the sudden intrusion. Her eyes closed as she felt your soft walls around her fingers, letting out a content sigh. 

“Fuck. You love these hands, don’t you cariño?”

“Yes, so much.” You groaned, your pussy fluttered, finally having Alexia’s fingers where you needed them most. She wasn’t slow, she pushed hard and fast inside, watching your face as you took what she gave you. 

“You’re so pretty baby, you make the prettiest faces when I’m inside you.” 

Alexia’s words were making your head dizzy, her fingers were relentless, she fucked you hard, hitting that beautiful spot inside you, making you moan louder. You could hear just how wet you were and you knew that meant she could hear it too. 

The hand in your hair was loose now, just guiding your face close to her mouth but never kissing you. You opened your eyes to see her watching you intensely, she pressed her forhead to your own, she looked just as fucked as you. 

“Fuck, Ale. I’m close.”

She kept up her movements, her skilful fingers coaxing you closer to your peak. 

“Not yet, baby. Take a little more I know you can.” She suckled softly at your perked nipples to sweeten the torture. 

Her muscles flexed with each thrust, making it look so easy. Alexia was strong, you loved watching her work out, you would watch her strong hands grip the bar bells, lifting weight heavier than yourself over her head. So you knew she could keep this pace up, but fuck, you needed to come.

You concentrated on nothing and everything, you knew you couldn’t come, not without Alexia’s permission. You had done that once before, and Alexia didn’t touch you for three weeks. She was serious when it came to your orgasm’s, she had the last say on when you could come. When she finally did touch you again she tied you down and ate you out for over an hour. Not once was you allowed to come while she was in between your legs, but when you were allowed to come it ended up being one of best orgasms you’d ever had. 

You started to shake, your thighs clamped on her own, your hips moving harder and your stomach started to tighten. 

“Please, Ale. I-I can’t hold it.” 

“Hmm, tell me. Whose pussy is this?” 

“Yours. Only yours.” You groaned.

“Who makes you this wet?” 

“Y-you.” 

“You feel so cute, I can feel you clenching around my fingers.” 

Your moan broke into a whimper as you struggled to hold back your orgasm.

“God you’re perfect. Come for me.” 

She circled your swollen clit with her thumb, pushing you completely over that sweet edge you had been holding onto for dear life. Your body shook hard, the moan you let out was loud, but Alexia was quick to have your lips on hers, swallowing your cries. She traced her kisses down your neck as you rode out your high, her thumb kept its pace on your clit. 

“That’s it. You were so good, bebé.” 

Your hips came to a stop, you hid your face in Alexia’s neck, peppering kisses on her skin. You breathed out and smiled lovingly at her, you could feel your body relax as her fingers tickled your back, slowly tracing mindless patterns on your skin. 

“I love your hands.” You chuckled breathlessly. 

She smirked playfully at you. “I love your mouth.” 

She guided her wet fingers to your lips. You stuck your tongue out ready to taste your own juices. She groaned as you wrapped your kissed swollen lips around her fingers, dripping with your essence. Her hazel eyes widened as you easily cleaned her fingers. No matter how many times you did that exact act, it always drove the blonde crazy. And you knew it. 

You were suddenly being pushed back, then strong hands lifted you easily to your feet. Alexia’s mouth was on yours, her tongue caressing your own. She pulled back, her eyes were glued to your lips.

“Let's put my favourite thing to work then.” She husked, before pulling you into the bedroom.

#woso soccer #women’s football #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso smut #alexia putellas x imagine #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #fcb femení #fc barcelona

[florencemtrash]

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 

But that was his own fault. 

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 

No.

  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look. 

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 

“I have more just like them.” 

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.” 

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 

“Yes… I know.” 

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong. 

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.” 

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 

“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!” 

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics. 

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 

“Well?” You snapped. 

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 

But his hands. 

His hands. 

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 

“I’m so sorry—” 

“Azriel, it’s ok.” 

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

He started laughing too. 

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.” 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader angst

[fcthots]

I log onto tumblr sometimes just to see your posts lol, and I love all the smut content, but I was wondering of you’d write something for a reader who isn’t feeling up to having sex one night, and they’re worried about how Jason will react but instead of being pushy about it Jason just cuddles the reader and affirms that they’re valid?

(I might be going through it a bit and feel this would be nice to read)

Thank you!! Also I think I needed this too lol

He was running on that post patrol adrenaline rush that leaves him looking for any outlet of release. Usually one in particular. You. He comes in through the window of the living room and lets his boots thudding on the ground be your warning. Before he even closes the window, his helmet is taken off his head and dropped to the carpet. He’s usually so careful about his precious equipment but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The clatter of his helmet is loud, much louder than his boots. You can hear it from under the water of your bath. You lift your head above water, and by the time you clear the water from your eyes, he’s standing in the doorway. His chest is heaving. You can see the tight coils of his fists, the lines of tension in the shoulders, the clench of his jaw. You know what he’s looking for.

But tonight isn’t the night for that.

You don’t stop him when he kneels on the ground by the tub and takes your drilling face between his hands, or when he kisses you with the enthusiasm of a starved man. His hands trail from your face to your neck and then trail down your collarbones, and down more. You pull away.

His hands stop. His face tilts like a confused puppy. There is a slight worry in his eyes, and unspoken what happened.

The words are hard to find. “I don’t um. I don’t think we should-. Maybe it would be-.” His hands trail down to yours. He hold them in his and gives a light squeeze, an encouragement, a go on. “I just don’t quite feel up to it tonight.”

He gives you a small smile reserved for you and you only. He gives your hand a gentle kiss, and then your cheek. “Ok. That’s alright. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

You search his eyes for any sign that he might be lying. You can’t find any but just to be safe, you ask, “are you sure?”

He tilts his head again and smiles. “Of course I’m sure.” He moves his body to make himself more comfortable sitting on the ground. He brings his elbow to the lip of the tub and rests his chin on his hand. “So what have you been up to while I was gone?” The easiness of the question makes you feel a little warm and fuzzy. There’s just something about the casual tone in which he says it, like he wasn’t planning to fuck you not even five minutes ago.

“I’ve just been in the bath.” You swirl some of the water around for emphasis. His nose scrunches when a few droplets of water hit his face. You try to hide your laugh.

“The whole time?” You were hoping he wouldn’t ask. You’ve had to rerun the water a few times after it got cold. You just couldn’t get yourself to get started for some reason.

“Yeah.” You watch the calculating and searching look in his eyes. He doesn’t ask why. You don’t want to explain, not right now.

“Do you want me to wash you? I don’t mind. If you’re ok with it that is.” He moves to sit on the lip of the tub. You just watch him.

“You wouldn’t mind?” He’s already answered the question, but doubt lingers in the back of your mind.

“I’d be happy to. My hands really need something to do right now. Washing your hair would help.”

You smile and nod as you bring your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around them and drop your head down to watch him reach for the shampoo. Maybe it was something in his training, but that man is incredible at scalp massages.

#saph’s love letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #saph’s thots #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x you #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

Could you do some ashley sanchez fluff please

craving your warmth | a.sanchez x reader

prompt: ashley just really loves your hands.

author notes: here is a fic for one of my fave white girlies 💗 i was supposed to have been wrote smt for this request but i get so sidetracked so mb gang. hopefully this is to your tastes tho!

contains: ncc!ashley sanchez x goalkeeper!reader, pure fluff like sickening type fluff, implied masc reader but nothing crazy

the sun is starting to come through the blinds as it rises. it's early, way too early for ashley to be awake but her body disagrees with her so here she is; awake on a saturday morning at six am. there is an upside to this annoying situation through. ashley can admire you sleeping so peacefully.

usually when you feel her eyes on you, it's not long until you get all shy and tell her to look away. most of the time instead of looking away, the blonde kisses you to distract but now with you in deep sleep, she can happily stare.

she shifts closer so that her hand can trace over your features. first, pushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over your face. she's close enough that she can smell your shampoo. the smell can't exactly be described but all ashley can call it is soft. very soft. then she moves on to your eyebrows then your eyes then your nose. finally her hand lands on your lips. again all ashley can describe them as is soft.

they're soft to touch and even softer to kiss. she really loves your lips. if someone asked her what is her favorite feature of yours it would have been your lips one hundred percent.

would have.

however, lately she's been falling in love with a different feature of yours. one that's not even on your face; your hands. it wasn't until recently that the blonde really started to pay attention to your hands. of course it wasn't like she just didn't notice them before, but she was too focused on your lips and gorgeous eyes and soft hair so yeah your hands weren't her main obsession.

your hands are slightly rough. mostly from wearing your goalkeeper gloves for hours each week and your workout regimen. they're bigger than ashley's as well. big enough that you can hold her wrists in one hand effortlessly. and with how warm your body is all the time, your hands are like her personal gloves.

ashley moves her hand down to where yours are on the pillow. you're resting your face against it, making your cheek squished in such a cute way it makes ashley smile. she starts to trace over your fingers. avoiding your face to not disturb you, but apparently that wasn't good enough as you start to shift and grumble in your sleep. probably due to how her light touches feel sorta ticklish.

"babe..?" you mumble out. your eyes are still closed, but you move your hand to hold onto hers.

"yeah?" the soccer player accepts your embrace easily. letting out a soft hum of content.

you don't reply to her for a few minutes. obviously slowly dozing right back off. you two didn't have anything planned for today. no practice or games or promotional shoots to get to, so today is a completely free day. a day just for you and ashley to laze around.

finally you speak, saying, "let's sleep in?"

the way your sleepy voice sounds almost makes ashley's heart burst. it's raspier then your voice usually is and a little whiny. a perfect mix.

"mhm, let's sleep in," she agrees. when she confirms what you already knew she would say yes to, you move to pull her close (well, closer) by her waist. your hand covering a good amount of the skin there. as you pull her into your arms, ashley feels grounded like how she always does when she's in your arms.

you pull her right into your chest. basically laying half of your body over her. ashley is definitely going to tease you about this later even though she enjoys the weight in reality.

the blonde whispers out a sleep well, feeling herself already getting sleepy. however you were already asleep again. way more tired than she was.

ashley absolutely hates being injured. it wasn't anything major, just a sprained ankle, but still she couldn't play or even train yet. all the blonde can do is sit on the sidelines at practice with a pout on her lips. one that you found really adorable, but at the same time made your heart break. knowing how badly ashley wanted to get out on the field.

the good thing about being essentially a bench warmer at practice was that she could check you out freely. if one of your other teammates pointed it out, ashley would just yell at them to focus on their exercises instead of what her eyes are looking at.

you obviously noticed how the blonde has been staring at you every single day she's been out and sitting in the empty stands at practice. maybe you have been going a little harder in training just to impress her. it wasn't like she didn't enjoy it. instead she awarded your efforts with that dazzling smile of hers and many, many kisses once you two got to the car.

she loved when you ran suicides. how good your calves and thighs look as you run could be plastered across a build board somewhere in ashley's opinion. when you save a goal and have that smug smile on your face afterwards will always do something to her. however, her favorite part of everything is after you save a goal and proceed to throw the ball back to whatever striker you were practicing with.

the way you always smile before doing that, the pure force you put behind the throw. ashley knows from personal experience strength is behind those hands and arms of yours.

she can't take her eyes off of you when you throw the ball back, she just can't. seeing the way your hand grips onto the ball reminds her of how you hold onto her. she's so focused on you that she doesn't realize that a soccer ball is flying at her.

"look around instead of checking out your girlfriend!" feli shouts, laughing loudly once ashley throws the ball back. obviously the german dodges it. sticking her tongue out after grabbing the ball and starting to move away to get back to practice.

the commotion is able to grab your attention. a teasing smile sits on your lips as you walk over to where ashley is sitting. she lets out a soft groan at seeing your approaching figure. already knowing what you are about to say.

"so you were checking me out, huh?"

most people wouldn't think that ashley's love language is physical touch. she seems like someone who would enjoy acts of services or affirmations, which she does, but not as much as she enjoys physical touch. in her last relationship, she didn't care for it much but that changed with you.

you didn't exactly push her into it but with how affectionate you are, naturally she started to crave it.

ashley's favorite type of affectionate lately is hand holding. no surprise to you with how fixated she is on that part of your body currently. you caught her on enough occasions looking at your hands to get an idea of how much she likes them.

right now, she's pulling you along as you two walk around in sephora. ashley is trying to convince you to let her do your makeup and you aren't as keen on that as she is.

"babe, everyone does it at least once. i seen it all over tiktok," she half reasons, half whines as you two stop infront of the lipsticks.

"that's cute, really, but babe.. i just don't think it's for me," you argue back. barely as you see how her eyes light up seeing the different shades of lipstick sitting on the shelves. okay, maybe you can try it just this once.

when ashley starts one of her rambles about how you would look adorable in makeup, you let go of her hand to look more closely at the different lipsticks. while you are busy looking at what shade you want, ashley slowly realizing she doesn't have the warmth of your hand on hers.

she blinks and realizes that wait, you aren't holding her hand.

"babeee," the blonde frowns at you. holding her hand out at you. a giggle leaves you as you turn to see her hand just out, waiting for yours. the urge in you to tease her is strong but instead you stand. interlocking your hand with hers.

"happy now?" you say playfully. pecking her forehead. the blonde accepts your affection happily, pulling you closer so that you two can look at the lipsticks together.

she picks up a pink lipstick before smiling at you, "ecstatic."

author notes: and finally i have a request done, yippie for me. this is really cute like im about to throw up but i love it 🩷

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

#ashley sanchez x reader #ashley sanchez #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso fluff #woso fanfics

[li0nn3stuff]

Kiddo

Chapter six

Kiddo masterlist

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader

•Chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, talking of bullying, fingering•

“Have you seen him?” The girl says excitedly to her friend, looking at the new year boy.

“Yes! What do you think happened to his eye?” She responded giggling.

“I don’t know, but whatever it was, if it left such a scar, it must have been really bad.”

“I kinda like the eyepatch though, it makes him sexy…” The girl smirked as she looked intently at the boy with silver hair passing by the hallway.

“Oh, he’s hot. I would totally fuck him.”  The girl smirked in return.

“I’d rather have him fuck me. I have a feeling that he is crazy good.”

Two months after the encounter.

Aemond smirked, looking at his phone, his girl had been texting a lot, since they’ve been friends.

Surely, it’s not how he would have liked to have her, but if nothing, Aemond was patient.

He had his own plan to get his girl only to himself.

On his side, he had his advantage.

She kept texting him about douchebags making fun of her at school.

Some, that he would have loved to rip apart with his bare hands.

Like the guy that was on a date with her, or the girls she was with the day he first saw her. They just wanted to humiliate her somehow. He reassured her with his own stories, advising her how to act on those occasions.

All lies.

He was the popular boy when he was young, despite what he feared as a child, when his scar was still fresh, his marked face brought him nothing but popularity and girls.

Boy’s feared him, the mix of his stoic face, scar, and powerful family apparently intimidated the others.

He lost his virginity pretty soon, and he never stopped fucking ever since, his last year in high school he even fucked in the teacher room, without getting caught.

He fucked a teacher once.

He was a fucking king in in school. He was the one humiliating others whenever he wanted to.

But she didn’t need to know that, did she?

He was only doing her a favor, offering er his comprehension, his help.

There was no way she could find that out anyway.

-I could come to visit you at work?-

He  smiled at the new text on his phone. God, she was just perfect. 

Aemond was her only friend, and that always made her so eager.

She texted him a lot, day and night, she asked to see him more than one time a day, and if he couldn’t, she then asked if she could facetime him, or at least call him.

He liked the calls, he had the freedom to be hard rock or even fisting his cock as she spoke. He rarely accepted video calls, but sometimes he took the risk, she was just so innocent, he could do everything anyway.

“There were a few tomatoes.” She smiles happily as she turn her phone to show him her little garden, bending down to get at the same level of the plant, making the cleavage her large chemise more evident, he caught a glimpse of her bra, holding those breasts he would want to squeeze in his hands, as he slipped his cock between–

“Can you see?” She asked excitedly. He cleared his throat and nodded, as he brushed his cock with his hand.

“Yes, I can see.” He answered. She smiled even more and stood back up. 

“Rory says he wants a salad with my tomatoes.” She says as she looks down to walk without stepping on any plant. Rory was one of her foster brothers, he was five, and greedy.

“Of course he does.” He answered as he carefully unbuttoned his pants, drawing down the fly. He sighed silently, when he didn’t have his breeches restrain his cock.

She chuckled at his remark, looking up at the phone, at him. He felt a rush of adrenaline, lust, going up his spine then straight to his cock, at her looking at him, oblivious of his actions.

“I could bring you some salad at work for lunch, if you want to.” She proposed.

“Mh… What are you wearing, you could get your clothes dirty in the garden.” He slipped his hand in his boxers, caressing directly his cock, letting out a small groan.

“Don’t worry, today I just came to check.” She raised her phone up her head, so her entire figure would be visible on the screen. She was wearing a big white men's button down shirt, and a long wavy white skirt. Her hair was loose and wavy due to the braids she kept during the night.

“So what do you say?” She asked again. Looking at him.

“Another time, kiddo. Tell me about your day.” He leaned back in his chair, his office door was locked, but it was early anyway, so he tugged his boxers down as she started speaking.

-You want so much to see me at work?-

He texted back, smirking to himself. He would have loved to show her around, his pretty girl, have her watching him while he works.

Smell her scent in his office, her real scent, not that vanilla shit he bought.

-You say you work in a high lever of one of the skyscapes, I want to see it! :) -

She texted quickly back, and he chuckled, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment. Did she light the height? He could have brought her to the heavens, if she would just ask him.

-You’re supposed to be at school, kiddo, why are you texting me?-

-Texting you is funnier.-

He groaned as he saw her text, putting aside his phone, and trying to force himself to ignore the urge to go to her school, find her class and fuck her on her table with the whole class looking at them.

He could picture it so well.

How she would ask him to go somewhere else because she’s shy about her body, and mostly because she doesn’t want to be seen or heard.

She would beg him so sweetly, looking at him with her eyes, glossy from tears. And how could he have stopped at such a sight? 

-So? Can I come visit you?- 

His phone turned on at her text. He looked at it for a while, then he decided to finally text it to her.

-My place is at a higher level. You want to come there?-

He could feel his heart in his throat as he stared at his phone screen. When she started typing, he felt like fainting.

-Deal, time?-

He wanted to jump from his chair and scream. He had her.

He was going to have her in his apartment.

He chuckled, thinking of how he could turn this story into some kind of Raperonzolo’s story, lock her in his apartment, maybe even tied to his bed.

So he could worship her naked body from the moment he came home, untill he left, first with his tongue, then his fingers, and then he would finally fuck her to madness.

He honestly didn’t know why she trusted him.

He was only getting worse since he met her. 

He stalked her less, that is true, but only because she gave updates to him herself. 

To be fair, he kept stalking her the first few days, but only to be completely sure his girl would never lie to him.

And she never did.

Because she was his perfect good girl.

He was trying really hard to wash the smirk away from his face as he drove to her school. He just couldn’t. 

He was going to have her in his apartment, just him and her. 

He risked a hard on every time he thought about it, his mind playing infinite scenarios of how he could take her, trick her, use her, and she wouldn’t even realize it, she would think it’s completely normal.

He had to take lots of deep breaths, in order to contain all those freaky, but tempting thoughts.

He will be kind, gentle.

Just for her, he could do it.

Well, he could try.

He hoped.

He parked close to her high school and texted her that he was waiting for her describing his location so it would have been easier for her to find him.

He saw her approaching him a few minutes later, and he leaned to open the passenger door for her.

As much as he would have liked to get out of his car, greet her with a small kiss on her head perhaps, he couldn’t risk it. 

His… unusual appearance always made him pretty noticeable, he wouldn’t want anyone to remember him, nor recognise him.

She quickly slipped inside his car and sat on the passenger seat. Smiling softly at him.

“Ehy.” She said, looking briefly at him. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her eyes, that had a hint of sadness in them.

“What happened, kiddo?” He asked, feeling a hint of rage burning in his chest at the idea that she had probably been bullied again. She shook her head as she put on her belt.

“Can I tell you later? I– I just want to go away from here…” She mumbled, her cheeks already getting red from embarrassment. He hesitated a moment, looking at her, unsure if to insist or just drive off.

He sighed and looked away, turning on the engine and driving off.

“I… suppose your day at school was not easy.” He muttered, glancing at her. She was staring outside the window, enjoying her view.

“No, actually not, it wasn’t.” She said softly.

“Tell me what happened.” He didn’t want it to sound so much like a harsh order, but apparently, he just couldn’t help it.

“It just feels strange to tell you in person now…” She tried to switch the main subject. “I’m so used to telling it to you by phone or call, it seems almost… strange in an intimidating way to tell you now in person. “ She explained. Aemond sighed as he nodded, trying to be comprehensive, even if he just wanted her to just tell him what happened. He drove off a bit faster, trying to get home as quickly as he could.

She was wearing one of her usual skirts, white, long to her ankles, and a thigh white shirt, but with a black cardigan over it, some black boots at her feet.

He wanted to put his hand on her thigh, squeeze it, and feel the softness on her skin.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asked then, his eye constantly on the road, he won’t force her to talk now, he will do it in his apartment, when she’ll be more comfortable.

“Whatever you’ll like will be fine.” She smiled softly at him.

“Would you rather order a take out?” He asked then, and he saw with the corner of his eye that she shook her head.

“Oh, no, why? We can cook for ourselves!” She said he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Oh, well, if you… I mean, we can go buy groceries if we need to, or–”

“No, it’s fine, I have everything.” He cut off short. 

“Then we can cook, we can make something basic, quick… I’m already hungry.” She smiled and chuckled. He nodded, his mind picturing them cooking.

Like a couple. 

She would be by his side, chopping some vegetables, he would pass behind her, tease her with some kisses on her neck, pressing her against the counter.

He would press his head against the back of hers, looking down as he pushed his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She would whine sweetly, so innocently, as he would start grinding against her, his hands quickly wrapping around her, caressing her belly and going down to– 

“Even pasta is fine.” She said again, leading him out of his thoughts. He cleared his voice as he moved on his seat, adjusting his position, as he felt his cock twitch.

“Pasta it is.” He agreed. She smiled again and went back on looking outside her window, as they approached his building. He parked the car and led her inside to the elevator. He didn’t try to stay too close, nor wanted his doorman to suspect anything, especially, because it would be the first time he saw him get in his apartment with such a girl at such an early hour.

Thankfully, she was too engrossed with the luxurious hall to actually talk to him, so they could pass for almost strangers, but then he led her to the elevator.

“What floor are you on?” She asked curiously, looking at the amount of buttons in the elevator, hovering her finger over them.

“Twenty two.” He said, and let her push it for him.

“It must be quite a view!” She said surprised, turning to look at him. His lips curved in a somewhat smile, as he nodded.

“Yes, it is indeed.” She smiled softly and waited for the elevator doors to open, jumping up and down on her tiptoes, impatient.

Once they got there, they entered his apartment.

“Wow!” She immediately commented. 

His house was quite modern, most of the walls were wide windows that gave a sight of the city, an open space for his living room kitchen and dining room, his bed and bathroom separated by a hallway. His house was modern, luxurious and elegant.

“Do you live here?” She asked as she watched around, mesmerized by the place.

“I do.” He asked, pleased by her reaction. She stopped and looked at him.

“It’s lovely. shall we cook now?”

As they ate, he tried to make her feel as comfortable as he could in his own house. Small chats were not really his thing. Chatting wasn’t his thing, unless it was for business.

“What happened today at school, kiddo? You still haven’t told me.” He asked as they moved from the table to the couch.

“It’s embarrassing.” She admitted as she rubbed her arm and sat on the couch in front of him.

“You’re embarrassed of telling me?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at her. “You can tell me anything” He sat back comfortably against the arm of the couch. He looked at her as she looked down and started playing with her fingers.

“We had a different lesson today at school…” She starts, and he calmly looks at her, letting her take her time to tell him. “We– we had a lesson about sexual education, and–” She took a deep breath, as Aemond felt that hot feeling on his chest again, anger.”Some of my classmates looked at me, laughing quietly, I– I don’t know, exactly why… but…” She paused again, and kept playing with her fingers.

“But?” He asked, leaning forward.

“But I–I think I can guess why? I– I mea, I’m not… really uhm– I have never.. I’m not familiar with… touch.” He felt like chuckling, but he dared not, especially considering the color of his girl’s face at the moment, red as a tomato.

“Touch. Touch like…?” He asked, a bit confused. She quickly shook her head.

“No, I mean, I obviously get touched! I–” She sighed and shyly put her hand on her arm, trying to prove herself. 

“Sexual touch?” He asked then, staring at her hand on his arm. He heard her gasp, and he raised his gaze at her, seeing her so red, he thought she would pass out.

“... yes…” She answered, ashamed.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know, kiddo?” He looked at her and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You just need the right man, when you’ll feel ready.”

“I can0t really trust someone now, can I? I– I mean, I would like to… try new things, kiss someone maybe, but… how, how can I find the right person? You’re the only one I trust!” She pressed her hand on her face, and he smiled briefly.

“If you trust me, I can… help you?” He suggested. He knew she would have never thought bad about what he just said, but he had a clear plan in his mind. She looked at him between her fingers, surprised.

“Help… me?” She repeated.Aemond nodded again.

“You said you trust me.” He stated, and she nodded again, taking her hand off her face. “Then trust me now. Come, kiddo.” He sat right on the couch, and widened his legs, indicating her to sit between them. She looked at him for a moment, trying to understand if he really expected her to do it or not, but seeing his seriousness, she slowly stood up, and moved with her back in front of him, looking behind her as she sat on the couch between his legs.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to, okay kiddo?” He murmured in her ear from behind. He saw on the back of her neck and shoulders her goosebumps. “Just know… I’m doing this for you.” He put his hand on her shoulders, caressing her softly, letting his fingers trace imaginary lines on her soft skin, enjoying the contact for himself. He went down to her forearms and arms, ending on her hands.

She turned her head to the side to see him, her mouth slightly parted.

“Answer me, kiddo, I need your words.” His voice hoarse, as he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“O–okay…” She nodded as she uncertainty leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“This fine for you?” He asked as he kept brushing her fingers up and down her arms. She nodded again, closing her eyes. He slowly moved his fingers from her hand to her thighs, just caressing her from over the skirt.

He heard her take a deep shaky breath.

“I’m gonna show you how a man should make you feel, kiddo, okay? If he doesn't, you'll leave them.” He ordered in her ear. She looked again at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

“You can trust me, kiddo, I’m just helping you, you know?” He slowly started raising her skirt. “I’m doing you a favor.” He kept repeating, as he lifted her skirt over her thighs, as she kept staring at him.

“Wh– what do you want to do? Aemond– I…” She started breathing heavily, squeezing her thighs together.

“It’s okay, kiddo, just close your eyes, you’ll feel good, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” He brushed his lips against her ear, and he felt her shiver. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer to his chest.

He looked down at her thighs, so soft and thick.

He brushed his hands over them, keeping his other arm secure around her waist.

“Relax, kiddo.” He whispered, as he slipped his hand between her thighs, finally.

He could feel his cock twitch in his breeches, begging for attention, touch. He groaned and ignored his urges, concentrating on her.

He slowly opened her legs, so that he could move his hand more freely, she didn’t resist him, she completely trusted him.

She shouldn’t be.

“Do you like this?” He asked as he looked at her face, her eyes closed. She pressed her lips together and nodded, her hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“I’m going to make you understand why people like to touch each other, okay? Will you let me?” He asked as his fingers briefly brushed against her panties.

White cotton, like boxers for girls.

It was so different from all the other panties he had always seen, lace, lingerie, thong.

He always hated unsexy undergarments, yet, the sight of it only increased her sweet innocence, and turned him on even more.

He pressed his thumb against her clothed bud, making her jump back against him, he tightened his arm around her waist and kept her still.

“Shh, shh it’s okay, you like this, it’s okay.” He groaned as he kept pressing his thumb on her bud, slowly moving it from side to side.

“Aem– It’s strange, I– What…” She mumbled as her breathing only grew heavier.

“Calm down kiddo, enjoy it, you like it.” He kept repeating as he kept moving his thumb on her. She threw her head back on his shoulder again, letting out a strangled whine, her hand opening and grabbing his thigh, digging his fingers on his skin. He smirked as groaned softly.

“You like this, kiddo, just relax.” He moved his hand away, and he played a moment with the band of her panties, slowly moving his fingers beneath it, so she could have the time to stop him.

She didn’t, she didn’t, and there was no way he would have stopped now.

He was going to take what belonged to him.

He traced the line of her slit, as she squirmed a bit, whining.

“It’s okay, kiddo, I got you.” He pressed a kiss on her temple, as he moved his fingers again over her slit, feeling how his fingers were getting wet. He smirked again and kissed the top of her head. He pressed his thumb on her bud, as he kept working one of his fingers over her entrance, just teasing her, despite how much he wanted to slip it in, feeling how tight she was, her untouched walls struggling to accommodate one of his fingers.

“You're ready for more, kiddo? Do you want more, more pleasure?” He whispered in her ear. Ste turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at him with her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes shining due to the tears gathering in them, her breathing growing irregular and heavier.

“Aemond… this is strange…” She whimpers as she squirms again, trying to escape the pressure of his thumb on her pearl.

“You want me to stop?” He asked. “You like this, so why do you want me to stop, mh?” He slipped his finger inside, just half of it, and she moaned loudly, surprised, grabbing his arm with both of her hands, holding onto it for dear life, as she kicked her legs, but his arm wrapped around her waist kept her secure against him.

“Aemond– Oh–” She moaned again as he slowly started to move it in and out, not pushing his finger in completely.

“Lay back, enjoy kiddo.” He pushed her back against his chest, and she bent her head back further, her legs bending and opening wider by themselves.

“Aemond… please, it’s so strange–” She let out a choked moan, arching her back. He smiled at seeing her so out of control for a mere finger, his mind wandering, imagining how she would scream if it would have been his cock instead.

“You do not like it?” He looked closely at him, how her face contorted at every single move of his finger. She shook her head. “Use your words, kiddo, I want to hear it.” He ordered, speeding up the movements of his fingers, pushing it deeper, searing for that sweet spot inside her. When he saw her moan again and tried to close her legs, he knew he had found it. She moaned again out loud, her mouth open as she tried to breathe in.

“Say it, kiddo. Tell me. Do you like this or not?” He placed his other hand on her knee, opening her legs again.

“Aemond…” She whined as she turned her head, pressing it against his chest, as she clenched her hands on his shirt, desperately trying to hide herself.

“Stay with me, kiddo, tell me what you feel.” His hand kept working that spot inside her, as his thumb bruised against her pearl, he felt her walls clenching on his fingers.

“I…” She cried out as she tried to hide her face further in his chest. “It… it feels… good.” She moaned again.

“That’s right, it feels good mh?” He groaned as she squirmed again and her body rubbed against his cock. “Fuck–” He growled, he was hard rock, and despite his cock was yearning attention, e was trying to only concentrate on him, even if it was fucking hard.

“Aemond… it feels really good– but so strange, please… I– I don’t know what’s happening… I feel so tense, ah!” She  started squirming uncontrollably, her face red, and shiny by a soft layer of sweat as her walls spasmed around his finger, as she came in a loud moan. Her breathing fast, irregular, her face relaxed, her body limp, resting completely on his. He moved his fingers for a few more moments, trying to help her riding out her strong orgasm, but he stopped as he saw a hint of discomfort on her face. He slowly pulled his fingers out, as she rested her face on his chest, her eyes closed, he licked his fingers.

Sweet, pure nectar.

“You okay kiddo?” He asked once he had cleaned his fingers completely. She let out a sweet noise, and he smiled, closing her legs and pulling down her skirt, he pulled her to him, her legs over his thigh as she kept her face pressed on his shirt.

“You were beautiful, you know?” He kissed the top of her head, leaning back on the couch.

 He was aware that his excitement was more than evident, and that she could see it, but even feel it against her side, but he did nothing to relieve himself.

Not yet.

Not now.

Maybe in a few minutes?

Tag: @zenka69 @blaustappen @julczimozart @diannnnsss @i66cilla @queenofthekeep @summerposie @tssf-imagines @vaylint @sweet-nothings-s @esposamultifandom @av989436751 @ladythornofrivia @xcinnamonmalfoyx @deliaseastar @kotadislikesthissite @nebulamorada @madelynwalt @shari-berri @seraphdayiwah @witchy-jadda @odeioemail @alphard-hydraes-blog @isntitdelicatevivi @famousrebeldaze @ssnapsaurus @paigeestrawfordd

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #modern aemond #aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond one shot #aemond targaryen angst #dark aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff

[starlostseungmin]

prologue: look what you started ─── lee know (unedited ver.)

✰ pairing : yandere!minho x doctor!fem.reader (she/her pronouns).

✰ genre : crime au, joker x harley quinn trope with a twist, nsfw 18+, romance, toxic relationship, angst.

✰ prologue warnings : profanity, mentions of murder, interrogation room, threats, knife + more and specific warnings will be written on the actual fic MDNI.

✰ prologue word count : 1.2k

✰ notes : been planning this fic for weeks and was inspired by lee know’s gucci photoshoot with wkorea and red velvet’s psycho and chill kill. i might provide a playlist but idk this is my third repost of this prologue btw. please separate fiction from reality. COMMENTS, REBLOGS, and TAGS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED. will post the actual fic either june or july!! stay tuned <33

Changbin slammed a bunch of papers on the table making you cringe at the sound. It was loud yet the fear wasn’t caused by it but what was written on them. 

It was a random afternoon when Han dragged you along with him from your clinic to this godforsaken interrogation room filled with nothing but silence as you were under surveillance from the outside. Changbin stood a meter away with his hands on his waist, waiting for an acceptable answer. You heard a heavy sigh from him as he grew impatient. There was nothing to tell anyway, and you won’t say anything. Not even a word as to what happened. 

“You still won’t talk?” He asked with a smirk formed on his lips. “What do you know about him?” 

You took a deep breath as Changbin leaned forward the second he asked you a questionーstill nothing was coming out of your mouth. It should be a secret, you promised him that and you will never tell. But out of everyone, why you? The papers on that damn desk were his medical records, prescriptions, birth certificate, and the personal information of the people he murdered. A responsible citizen, no, a professional doctor like you would most definitely report a criminal immediately. But you didn’t. 

Instead, you hid him away from everyone even though you knew about the consequences. You will go to jail, that’s for sure. You didn’t even know why you did it. Was it because you were swayed? Terrified? Threatened? Or was it because you voluntarily wanted everything to happen the way it was? 

It should be simple. He was your patient before he became a lover. 

“You wouldn’t turn me in, will you?” He asked pointing the tip of his knife on your neck as you stood in front of the mirrorーbody trembling. 

“N-no,” Your voice cracked. 

“I wouldn’t hurt you, Y/N, you know that,” He answered, pulling the sharp object away as he buried his face in your neck with his arms wrapped around your waist. “You’re precious to me. I love you,”  You bit your lower lip as tears streamed down your cheeks while reaching for his hands shakilyーholding them tight. 

“I love you too,” You answered staring at your messy reflection in that broken, foggy mirror. “No one will find you, I promise,” 

Upon turning away from Changbin’s face, Chan suddenly entered the room and sat across from the table from where you were sitting. He was cleaning the lenses of his glasses as your eyes glued on your balled fists resting at the hem of your skirt. You didn’t know what had gotten into you and why you ended up in this mess that he started. You were not supposed to tolerate him and yet you did. Were you crazy? Or was he? 

“What information did you get?” Chan asked Changbin, fogging the lenses of his glasses with his breath before proceeding to wipe them again.

Chan is known for being the best detective in the city. There’s no case he couldn’t crack and he’s too smart to be outsmarted by anyone who tries to flee from the law and Changbin being the interrogator made the situation worse. You knew he used to be friends with everyone in this room, especially Han who was outside, listening to every word. No one can escape, not even you. 

There were so many questions, most specifically they were for yourself. A doctor, a foolish one indeed. Who in the right mind would hide a criminal in the countryside for the sake of love? You. Maybe you weren’t in your right mind. And Minho… you can’t just let him go away. He did so much for you already. 

“She’s tight-lipped, she’s not answering any of my questions and it has been two fucking hours, Chan. Two!” You heard Changbin exclaim out of frustration with his jaw tightened. Right, two hours for nothing. 

“No matter how long you want to keep your mouth shut, we won’t let you go,” Chan spokeーtaking his glasses to rest on the bridge of his nose. He was calm as the ocean water in midsummer but you knew he wouldn’t be once he started talking.  “We will find him no matter what, Y/N,” There was a sudden threat and full authority in his voice that made you feel scared. He is one intimidating fucker. Even if you acted strong on the outside, the fear that they’ll find Minho anytime would kill you. 

“You don’t have to do this,” You spoke. Finally. 

“Then tell us what you know. You’re being brainwashed by him, Y/N!” Chan shouted as you stood up, slamming your hands on the deskーglaring at them as if your eyes would burn them. 

“A doctor will never share any confidential information of their patient with someone who is not their guardian!” You arguedーnostrils flared in anger. “Don’t make a fool out of me just because you think I know everything about him and you have the authority to question me. I was brought here against my will without a fucking warrant! And you are expecting me to say something which I won’t so let me go!” It was firm, indeed but they wouldn’t listen.

“You know we can’t do that unless you say something,” Changbin shouted making you slap his cheek causing a loud noise and a tense atmosphere. The man’s eye twitched in shock. For sure he wasn’t expecting that neither did Chan and Han. A harsh sigh escaped from his lips as his hand covered his red cheek, almost cursing the shit out of you but you were just standing there, hands on the desk with your eyes still not calming that death glare. 

“I said, let me go.” You answered, infuriated. They didn’t have a choice and so they did. 

You didn’t even say thank you after that, and what for? There’s nothing to be thankful about. 

Grabbing your bag, you headed out of their office as Han followed you outside. He kept calling your name and to your annoyance, you didn’t want to talk to him. Not with anyone involved in the authority. There’s Minho on the line. You can’t speak further of him anymore. 

“Y/N, you don’t have to be this harsh,” Han said, trying to catch up to your pace. “Minho Hyung was my friend, a precious one, and still is! We just really want to know what happened,” Han pleaded, almost tears in his eyes as you stopped in your tracks to face him. 

“If you want to see him, be a good friend instead of putting a price on his head,” You snapped at him. Han just stood there, breathless and confused as to why you were making a fuss about it just to save Minho’s ass from getting caught.

“He killed someone! He’s a runaway criminal and you’re the only one who knows where he is!” Han argued. 

“I said I don’t!” You yelled as tears started to form in your eyes. “He’s gone, Han! You don’t know where he is, neither do I,” You said. “I wouldn’t be back here if I was with him. He’s gone, Han! So quit thinking that I know!” 

However, there was a short pause between you and him as if he was suspecting you, which was indicated as obvious. Han doesn’t trust you ever since his disappearance but he is so naive, no, every one of them. 

“You’re lying,” Han gasped in between his cries. “I know you did something to him,” 

No, Minho did something to you. 

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

#neverendingdreams #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz smut #skz angst #skz scenarios #skz fluff #lee know smut #lee know angst #lee know imagines #lee minho smut #lee minho imagines #skz lee know #stray kids lee know #skz minho #lee minho #skz

[calaisreno]

Couple

865 words / Prompt: Imperfect

“We’re not—” John begins, but realises the futility of saying it again. 

“You’re a lucky man.” Hopkins winks at him. “I’d make a play for him myself, but he’s obviously taken.”

He watches her walk away while he stands at the bar, waiting for another pint. She’s just the kind of woman he once would have hit on. A fun flirtation. 

Now he doesn’t have the energy. And he’s wondering when that happened.

Sherlock is watching him. 

He should be used to it by now. People always assume they’re a couple, and really, he doesn’t mind so much. He’s stopped saying he’s not gay because it’s misleading, and he would rather be honest. But it’s nobody’s fucking business who he is.

Sherlock must know. God, they’ve known each other for years, lived together for months now, since he and Rosie moved back. They’re practically co-parenting, and often exchange the same weary look that only the parents of a toddler can wear. 

But Sherlock looks sad, he thinks. If John is honest with himself, he’s a bit worried that Sherlock is tired of the John-and-Rosie show, the trail of destruction Rosie leaves everywhere she toddles. The cases always used to bring them together, and now, even if they have a babysitter, John’s often too exhausted to go out with him. 

Even this, a night out with the Yarders, Rosie at home with Mrs Hudson, is less fun than John had hoped. Sherlock doesn’t care for pub nights, but he tags along because John presses him to be more social. 

He moves towards Sherlock, who’s sitting on the periphery of the noisy group. People don’t socialise with him much. Even the women who look at him with appreciation give up after a brief exchange. Sherlock can manage social occasions when necessary, but he’s clearly wishing he were somewhere else.

He slides into the seat opposite. “I’m glad you came.” 

“Why?” Sherlock gives him a sharp look. “So I could watch Lestrade’s team get pissed?”

“No, I’m glad because… I like being with you.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows rise. He gives an amused huff. “You live with me.”

“Yeah, I do. But at home there’s always some mess to clean up or Rosie to deal with. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t your favourite thing.”

“I don’t mind.” His mouth curves into a smile. “I like being with you, too.” 

John nods, takes a swallow of beer. “Stella was just making the usual assumption. We look like a couple. And I was wondering, are we?”

“Are we a couple?” Sherlock’s face does something complicated: surprise, discomfort, and then careful indifference. “People are idiots.”

“I don’t care about people. I care about you. Does it bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Because you don’t… I know you care about me and Rosie, but you don’t do…” The word is on the tip of John’s tongue, but he’s looking into Sherlock’s eyes, feeling completely obvious.

“Romance,” Sherlock says. “It’s a medieval construct, John, an idealisation of a reality that is often messy and contentious. People fall in love and marry; they run headlong into disappointment and divorce. I abhor the idea that we must put on blinders and pretend everything is perfect. It’s not, and never has been.”

John feels his heart sink a bit. “Yeah, you’re right.” He touches the side of his pint glass, watches the condensation run down. 

He’s thinking about his own failed marriage. He’d loved the idea of Mary, an escape from the past, the possibility of a future with a person who loved him. He’d built an idealised life in his head, and it hadn’t taken long for him to realise how mistaken he’d been. The night Mary died, he’d planned to talk with her, tell her what he’d realised about himself. He didn’t know where that would take them, but it had to be said. He’d only delayed because of Sherlock’s text.

“Love,” Sherlock continues, “has nothing to do with romance. It’s not perfect. It’s a decision, one we keep making because it’s important.”

Their eyes meet. John is looking up into Sherlock’s face, remembering when he said, we might all just be human. “Important. To you?”

“Yes.”

The group is suddenly louder, laughing and jeering at some remark. No one is looking at him and Sherlock. 

Those grey eyes are still gazing at him.

“Love is important, John. I know I don’t often express sentiment, but I do feel it. I do love you.”

At the look on John’s face, Sherlock’s smile turns to something sadder. 

“I adore you and Rosie, and I love the messiness of living with you. I don’t want a perfect life. I want you. I want us.”

“So, you’re saying… you want us... to be a couple?”

“We already are, John. What that means is up to us. Do you want more than what we have?”

“God, yes.” The words are out of his mouth before he thinks them. “I do. Want you. If you…?”

“Yes.” Sherlock is smiling now, a full, bright smile that practically lights up the room. 

John leans closer. “I love you too, Sherlock.” 

The kiss is messy and imperfect. And glorious. Nobody’s watching.

#mayprompts2024

[makuzume]

The Last Time You Talked to Him

🔅Yuta Okkotsu

🔅Content: Inspired by the recent spread on the events happening in JJK 261; MEGA spoilers; gn! reader🥲; Word Count: 1k

🔅a/n: I was genuinely sobbing with hot streams of tears falling down my eyes while writing this at 4 AM I am DEVASTATED I had to express it somehow,, Didn't expect to have such attachment to this boy.

[JJK Masterlist]

"...Yu...?"

The silence was loud, deafening even.

The weather tonight was pleasant and had a clear sky: the moon was high, the stars were out, the breeze was calm...

You could say it would've been a perfect evening to have another lovely date by the usual spot: under the big tree, behind the school, sitting on the soft grass...

However, despite the scenic atmosphere that surrounded you, the look on both of your faces were low-spirited, displaying a sorrowful expression.

"...Yuta..." Slowly, you lowered your head, staring at the ground in front of you as you hugged your knees closer to your chest.

"...Please...." You whisper, almost pleaded as a few droplets began to form at the corners of your glistening eyes.

As you did your best to remain composed, you couldn't help but feel your facade begin to slowly break, like a dam of overwhelming emotion threathening to burst at any moment, bit by bit-

A dam that's ready to release all sorts of feelings: pain, sadness, fear, worry, hatred, and love.

Your breathing slowly began to turn uneven, your quiet voice shaking slightly.

"....Don't go... please..."

That was it for you.

Those words were enough to completely break your self-control, cracking the dam open.

Your face immediately hid in between your arms as you tightly gripped on your knees, releasing all of the emotions that had built up inside of you, unable to contain them any longer.

It hurt, it really hurt, knowing what will happen to him after tonight.

"....." Yuta was silent, dead slient, unable to think of any proper response to say to you.

I mean, what was he supposed to do in this situation? Should he hug you? Hold your hand? Lie Reassure you and say he'll come back safely??

If the one you loved comes to you and suddenly announces that he'll be stitched into another person's dead body to battle against the most notorious curse in history within in the next hour, what else are you left to follow up with??

The person you loved the most... now using your dead teacher's body, whom you both respected so much, as a vessle, a puppet, nothing more than a weapon... isn't that a little too messed up?

Why him?

As sickening it is to use Gojo's body to the very end, you're just as disgusted at the situation where it came to a point that a young man, such as Yuta, needed to be the one to step up and tackle the situation.

For his friends, for Gojo, for all sorcerers, all civilians, and even for you. Your peace.

And everyone agreed to this, even Gojo, which made you sick to the stomach. Seeing how even your late teacher accepted the dehumanization of his own being for the sake of becoming a mere shell of a weapon, further being pushed even agter his death; turning himself into the monster everybody needed him to be.

'I will be the monster.' He just had to say it.

Your growing disappointment in the reality of the sorcerer world only continued to grow more.

But you knew it was something he has to do... he wants to do... for everyone. It would be selfish- incredibly selfish for you to beg him to stay with you, endangering the world because of it.

But you couldnt help it. Every fiber in your being was screaming for him to not do it, it's gone too far, all of it, even though that the plan was already set in motion when you found out.

It was hard to hate him for doing that, but at the same time, you hated the fact for still loving that strong sense of morals he clings onto so much.

With your head still hidden deep within your knees, you sob "...Please.... please don't go... pleas, Yu...." You tried your best to speak in between your desperate cries, your words getting more and more inaudible as you weakly shaking your head in denial.

You couldnt help but still try to plea desperately, as void as your attempts would be.

You knew your words were uselses, you knew he would push through anyway, you knew he was the one who wanted to do this, for the sake of humanity- but still.

All you could do was plea, as if asking the Gods for a miracle. A miracle that somehow all of this this: the deaths, the curses, Shibuya, Sukuna, sorcery as a whole... was just some big screwed up dream.

Yuta slowly scoots closer to you, his hand ever so gently resting on the top of your trembling body. His hand gently caresses your back, comforting your shaking figure that hitched out quiet, miserable cries.

"My angel...." he spoke, calling out to you gently as you let yourself cry for a little more before trying to calm down.

Your heart ached for a moment upon hearing his affectionate and caring tone once more, and perhaps for the final time. It was already impossible for you to cry any more intensely. It hurts you like hell and you were already crying as if you had already lost him.

He knew nothing could ease the situation and trying to lighten it would only do nothing. All the both of you, and everyone else, could do is just accept the fate this world has to offer him; Accept the gamble of a lifetime Yuta will be risking.

Risk if never coming back as himself, risk of death, risk of defeat and the triumph of curses...

He wanted to say so many things he could never say in an hours worth of time. Yuta still wanted to tell you how much he loved spending time with you, how much he admried you, how happy he is everytime he made you smile; how happy he is just even thinking about you...

He ended up saying none of it, hoping you would have already known all the things he wouldve wanted to tell you.

The sad part is: you would know. You understand him better than anyone else- and you knew every single word of affection, fear, regret, guilt, and love he wanted to tell you. And imagining hearing him say those things would only end up hurting you even more.

...

Will it be the same? Will he come back? Will he survive.

No one's certain, yet, you remain clinging on to hope.

But fate is cruel, in reality. Fate is painful. Fate is uncertain. No one knows what will make of him after this

After taking a while to collect yourself, finally, you look up at him, your hand clenching so hard to your chest, your lungs so empty of air, and your cheeks stained with the warm stream of tears falling from your eyes.

"...I love you most....don't ever forget."

Yuta said, almost like a promise, like a goodbye.

He loves you, more than anything, even his own life itself- he loved you more.

Which is why he is willing to risk it in order to create a peaceful world for you to live in, and only he was ready.

As difficult as it may be, you knew it was a hard slap to the face by reality for you to accept fate. It was imposisble, but inevitable.

The world of sorcerers was never a place of clear blue skies and joyful songs. Its a dark place.

It's hard to blame anyone, because this is where fate had let you afterall, a tragic end to a supposed-to-be love story that could've ended with a better ending.

"....Let's meet here again... once everything is over." In the most gentle tone, he spoke. His eyes looking at you filled with so much love as if you were the only thing that mattered that moment.

Against all opposing forces, you somehow convinced yourself to force a smile: it was weak... filled with sorrow and affection mixed together, and you did your best to show your pretty little smile he loved so much, knowing it might have been something he needed the most right now.

He only regrets he may not be with you after everything has finished; not be able to train with you and get stronger together- not be able to spend the rest of his days with you anymore, like he promised, like he hoped.

....That, and the fact that this would perhaps the last time he would be able to see your smile ever again.

I'll see you again soon...

...Yuta.

---///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///---

a/n: It took me a while to edit this before posting cause of the amount of typos I had to deal with as I sobbed while making this but at least I captured the heart of my emotions during a vulnerable time lol I guess

YUTA LITERALLY SHOUDERED SUCH A BURDEN BC HE KNOWS IT'S SO MISERABLE AND SAD FOR GOJO TO BE THE ONLY MONSTER AND DEHUMANIZED BUT NO ONE ELSE WAS TRYING TO DO WHAT GOJO DID MY BOYYYY

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[yazthebookish]

Why an Elucien rejected bond storyline would be boring

Years ago Sarah briefly discussed Elain and Lucien's mating bond, she changed her plans from having Nesta as Lucien's mate to Elain since she saw there is a great deal of tension, growth and healing to be found for both of them (together).

In my opinion, we are currently seeing them go through the tension stage where there is this distance and strain on both of them due to recent events. Lucien was sexually assaulted by Ianthe and he is settled in the human lands to support Vassa and Jurian. While Elain has to mourn her human life and also the rejection of Graysen (who used the bond against her) + she also grieved her father. It's pretty reasonable for her to feel that resentment and hostility towards the existence of her mating bond with Lucien.

Part 1: As of ACOSF, does Lucien want Elain or did he move on to Vassa?

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian's heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

I won't make this part long because it's right there in the text. His longing. He still longs for Elain. He still tries. If he is so occupied and in love with Vassa, what is he doing spending Winter Solstice at Velaris to give his mate a gift instead of the woman he apparently "loves".

"But he lives with Vassa!"

The concept of friends sharing a house does not necessarily mean they're all hooking up, unless Lucien's comment on Vassa and Jurian liking to be at each other's throats is to be taken literal (and he's the third wheel in that scenario). I firmly believe Vassa and Jurian would end up together.

It's clear Lucien has eyes for one female only and that's his mate.

Part 2: Lucien doesn't want the bond and he can't stand it

And that's when arguments are formed based on out of context quotes, because context always matters to get the full picture.

But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda. Jesminda had been all laughter and mischief, too wild and free to be contained by the country life that she’d been born into. She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her. She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.

Is it not valid for him to feel conflicted about this entire situation because he is still processing the fact that the female who he fell in love with, who had chosen him, saw him, and accepted all of him, who was beheaded because she loved him, is not his mate? but this stranger is? He is trying to make sense of it. He doesn't know Elain yet.

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

His feelings and thoughts and instincts are all clashing at once. That is much evident in this entire scene.

"I can't stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can't stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back."

This is often taken out of context to point out that Lucien doesn't want the mating bond or he can't stand to be around Elain. As a mated male, it's overwhelming for him to be around her because his instincts clash and he has to keep himself grounded around her. He doesn't know yet how to approach her or what she expects of him. It's extremely awkward and he can't stand it because he still didn't find a common ground with her.

Using this quote to imply he doesn't like her or stand her is absolutely false within the narrative.

I think so. It wasn't just about what he thought—it was the ... feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And ... sorrow. Longing.

Part 3: Lucien is responsible for her trauma

Hard disagree on this one.

Even canon points out that the one who told the King of Hybern about Feyre's sisters was none other than Ianthe. This is not to defend Tamlin because he gave her an opening to do whatever she liked and did not hold her accountable in ACOWAR.

Now about Lucien, what power did he have over Tamlin's decisions when we have seen that despite being his friend, there is a power imbalance and Tamlin does lash out at Lucien. Lucien is not a character without flaws, but neither Feyre nor Nesta ever blamed Lucien. Even when Elain says to his face that he betrayed them, Lucien immediately says it was a mistake. He doesn't try to absolve his role in it or explain his actions to her, he calls it as it is.

I disagree with the statement that he is responsible for her trauma, Lucien was nothing but a spectator.

"But, but, he yelled at her and announced that they were mates!"

Cassian again stirred—trying to rise, to answer Nesta’s voice as she held my sister and cried her name again and again. But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain— Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

Right. He yelled at her.

Great reading comprehension.

And it's like we forgot when Rhys said the moment the bond snapped between him and Feyre, if he stayed a second longer he would've damned the consequences and took her with him. As soon as he winnowed back to Velaris the first word he said to Mor after 50 years was "she's my mate".

"Well he shouldn't have said it anyways"

Yeah because it's not like Lucien is a Fae male and the mating bond is something that alters the Fae on a biological level. It overrides their instincts.

Part 4: Elain choosing the mating bond + Lucien will be a disservice to her arc, it won't be a choice unless she chooses Azriel

“but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

I like that Sarah briefly discussed the topic of a character's agency when it comes to mating bonds because it's something that has long been discussed in the fandom.

However, I disagree that if Elain chose Lucien it's not truly a "choice" because of the mating bond. We have seen with both Feyre and Nesta that they didn't choose to be with Rhys and Cassian simply because of the bond, the mating bond was just the cherry on top—they loved their mates for who they were.

"Elain's entire journey will be about choice"

Isn't she already making a choice? Isnt she choosing not to pursue the bond? Isnt she choosing to ignore the bond? Isn't she choosing to not reject it? Isn't she choosing how she is living her life in Velaris? Isn't she choosing how she spends her time? Isnt she choosing to garden and help other gardens in Velaris? And I can go on.

Neither Elain or Lucien had a choice in being mated to each other, but the notion that the mating bond left her with no agency over her life is partially incorrect because she is making choices. Yes, the mating does in a way take some of Elain's agency and Lucien's agency since it's something that alters them on a soul-level, but Lucien's agency is often removed from this conversation.

Currently, the ball is in Elain's court and not Lucien's. She currently has the choice of accepting or rejecting the bond.

And in my opinion, "choice" is a theme that is incorporated in the journeys of all the characters, it's not exclusive to Elain. I don't think "choice" is the core of her story because I think Elain's journey should focus on breaking out of the docile and gentle sister mold (not that she stops being gentle, but stopping others from infantilizing her), finding where she truly belongs, realizing who her true found family are, discovering the world (a trip to the continent let's go!).

Part 5: Azriel (warning: controversial)

This will be a bit of a hot topic but I'll do my best to keep it short (it really isn't).

This kind of follows Part 4, but I will tell you why Azriel isn't a "great" choice for Elain.

Yes, they had a sweet companionship and a friendship and that is usually a good foundation for a relationship, but to me there wasn't anything solid or deeper then that. We have to *assume* they had moments off-page, but we also know that they're not spending time together and Azriel confirmed this. So am I going to wait for chapters of flashbacks after flashbacks to see that build up from the past?

Before anyone jumps the gun, I am a hardcore Gwynriel and a hardcore Azriel fan and I fully understand and accept that Azriel is a flawed character who carries so much self-loath. I dont like him with Elain because I believe it's an unhealthy dynamic compared to how lighter and more open he is around Gwyn and this is not something against Elain, it's more tied to how Azriel perceives the logic of 3 sisters + 3 brothers. Dynamics matter and makes a difference between couples because e.g., Chaol and Yrene worked better than Chaol and Celaena. Mismatched pairings exist but it doesn't mean the characters involved wouldn't work out with others.

So how is the male that centered himself in his entire conversation with Rhys instead of prioritizing what Elain wants, is the ultimate choice?

He argued that the Cauldron was wrong because he didn't get the "third" sister while his brothers got her other sisters, and at this point we know Elain is not interested in a mating bond. If she is attracted to Azriel, it has nothing to do with wanting a bond with him because we know how she feels about it but it's Azriel who wants to center the mating bond in it.

So does that mean the relationship from Azriel's perspective wouldn't be complete without a mating bond? Then why is he arguing about this? Wouldn't it be more romantic for him to say I don't care if she is mated or not, I want her for her—but that's not the case here.

Notice that it's Azriel having these discussions about mating bonds and not Lucien who is her mate. and I promise you if it was Lucine having this exact discussion with Rhys, the entire fandom would drag him to no end.

Back to Azriel, so he also says that he hadn't gotten that far with his planning certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to + and said Lucien is not good enough for her and she has not interest in him anyways. Again, he is speaking for Elain when we know one of the big problems surrounding Elain is how others speak for her and assume what she needs. If she doesn't want the mating bond, that's her speech and not Azriel's. I still don't get how people were fine with him speaking for her and I'm not even the biggest Elain fan.

Last but not least, he also was against her scrying despite publicly declaring that no one decides what she can or cannot do and wants to help. Is this truly the "ultimate choice" for Elain? But Lucien's only crime is being mated to her?

Part 6: finally, why Elain and Lucien rejecting the mating bond would be bad storytelling.

So we know that a bond can be rejected, only weakened but it will always exist.

"Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond. But it will still be a bond, however weakened, that will trail her for the rest of her existence."

"But he'd know if Nesta were dead. In his heart, his soul, he'd sense it. Would feel it. A mate always did. Even if she'd rejected that bond."

1. There isn't enough time to explore a rejection:

It seems there isn't a ritual or a tradition we are told of about a mating bond rejection, if the female doesn't want it then that's that but it does have a worse impact on males.

As of ACOSF, it's evident Lucien still longs for Elain even if they are distant or occasionally see each other. We know Elain resents the bond but we still don't have her POV to really know what she thinks of Lucien.

What do we get out of a rejected bond with Elain and Lucien? That she just doesn't want him and can say "no"? That she finally has a choice? Even though she is making choices as of the current canon to not explore the mating bond or do anything? I gave examples in Part 4.

And then what? Lucien moved on to Vassa or another female in the next book? That despite a rejection being devastating he's all cool and moved on within months.

No stakes. No challenges. No reprecussions. No consequences. Nothing interesting.

"But it's proof that not every mated pairing works" that would be interesting if we had enough time to discover that but not with two characters that barely spoke to each other and readers have no clue to what kind of dynamic they have.

A rejected mating bond would not be a good story to tell because there wasn't much there to begin with. It's underwhelming.

"I don't want it" "okay cool see you around" < and that's it? Groundbreaking.

"It's a big factor to play into a forbidden romance because Rhys is the obstacle here" easily resolved with one word from Elain and Rhys is removed.

I think Elain and Lucien's mating bond would still be interesting to read about because we never had a mated pairing that knew they were mates but weren't in love yet.

It's giving an arranged marriage trope and the best part about arranged marriage is when the spouses get to know to each other better, they fall harder—I think the tension between Eain and Lucien would be quite delicious and fun to read about as they tip toe around each other and the mating bond.

2. Parallel journeys:

I like what Mor said in ACOFAS and it makes complete sense since it reaffirms that both Elain and Lucien are going on parallel journeys:

Mor drank deeply from her glass. "Stay out of She's not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings."

I lifted a brow. "Snoop."

Mor leaned back against the steps, utterly un-repentant. "Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her."

3. Promised HEAs:

SJM already stated that each book going forward will follow different pairings and by the end of their book they'll get their HEA. That's the standard traditional romance formula.

A mate rejection, especially in standalone books, are miserable. Not enough time is given to navigate through it or move on and it also sets an unrealistic and cheap outcome that the other mate could easily move on from the soul-level rejection. No, that doesn't entitle a mate to force their other mate to accept the bond because it would affect them personally, it's just something I think that needs more than a book to discover through the POVs of the characters involved.

This is why a mate rejection is a very rare and an unpopular trope in fiction. There was a temporary mate rejection in the Zodiac Academy series that scarred the ZA fandom because it's depressing.

You have Fated Mates authors like Kresley Cole who published around 21 books with each book including the Fate Mate trope. That's one of ACOTAR's trademark.

Till this day, every SJM character that found out about the mating bond ended up with their mate one way or another. It's an SJM trademark at this point.

4. Then which rejected bond would Sarah explore?

In my opinion, the true rejected bond story that would be extremely emotional, tragic and powerful is the story of Helion and Lady of Autumn.

What they had is the definition of a forbidden romance. Lady of Autumn was married to a High Lord from her Court and Helion wasn't even a High Lord of the Day Court then.

The stakes are extremely high they could've triggered a war between Day Court and Autumn Court. Even though a mating bond triumphs marriage, Lady of Autumn still has children with Beron. She chose her children over her mate in the end. She had to reject the bond because everything stood against them.

While this is currently theoretical but it's strongly pointed at in canon that they're mates.

This makes for a better story of a Rejected Mating Bond because enough time passed to see what were the repercussions, the consequences of their actions and how they both suffered. Do they find their way back to each other in the end or does one of them for whatever reason loses their life? Did Helion have to seek other people to distract him from not being with his mate and her not choosing him? Did their bond weaken?

Conclusion:

I didn't expect this to be long but I hope you enjoyed reading this "essay". The rejected mates storyline is controversial and so many readers feel strongly about it. Everything here reflects my own thoughts and why I think a Rejected Mating bond wouldn't be an interesting one to discover with Elain and Lucien.

I deserve another cup of coffee and on my way to get me one haha. I apologize for any typos in advance.

#elucien

[thisismeracing]

Not quite love | CL16

read the full piece here

― Pairing: charles leclerc x friend!reader (she/her) ― Warning: mentions of alcohol and food; friends to lovers; angst; unrequited love; not been proofread yet; 2k words. ― Summary: When you get romantically involved with your best friend you were not expecting a marriage proposal, but simply a commitment. You were sure that what you had wasn’t quite love, though it could be and maybe that’s what hurt the most. The fact that you had everything to be each other’s end game, but turned out to be strangers. 

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preview

You and Charles had everything to be the perfect couple.

To have the perfect story.

A book-worthy one.

You were long-time friends.

Though your family wasn’t very fond of him, his family loved you, and that was enough. Over half of your friends in common hinted about you guys getting together. The dynamic was this good from the outside, and so was the tension whenever you were together. 

You would share desserts, dance with each other, sleep in the same bed after friends get together –nothing sexual ever happened, and maybe that’s the reason why it was so intimate and ground to tension flourish. It was beyond the physical. At least for you. 

It all took a turn when you finally moved to Monaco to study and work.

*****

“Don’t cry, chérrie,” he cooed, lips finding a few droplets of tears and cutting short their path on your cheeks. You turned your head in his direction, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against yours, seeking the solace of it. 

The Monegasque read the way your body leaned in, the way your face felt hotter against his lips, and he lined his breathing with yours giving you enough time to pull back, but you didn’t. In fact, you broke the barrier of space between you two, pressing your lips in a feverish kiss. Charles answered in a second, gripping your waist and bringing you impossibly closer. His tongue was demanding, and his body against yours felt different than the other times. More intimate. 

“Fucking finally,” you could almost hear your friends with their hands up to the heavens, so you chuckled, ultimately breaking the kiss. Charles grinned.

“If I knew this is all it would take for you to smile I would have greeted you with a kiss,” his teasing earned a giggle from you.

*****

[...] At the end of the day Charles would sleep at your place –or you at his– at least once a week. You would still share movie nights like when you were just friends. He would still send you funny TikTok he watched, and you were still telling him about all the books you read. 

Those were things boyfriends and girlfriends did, you knew that, nevertheless, you wanted to believe that he was planning something. Or that maybe he already saw you that way. Maybe he was afraid of the constant travel and the pressure of his career and media. Maybe he was trying to protect you from the fans. 

Charles never voiced any of this. Never sat down to talk about it, and you didn’t ask. Not until you graduated and got a job proposal in America. It wasn’t France, Germany, or Sweden, places you knew would be easier to gravitate to Monaco when the schedule let you. It was oceans apart, but it also felt like an opportunity to compromise, to keep your –hopefully official- relationship going. 

The thing is, life is unpredictable. You can’t guess what someone is feeling or how they will react. Your mom would always tell you that the heart is unknown ground – a place nobody will ever explore in its plenitude. You only get in the rooms the other allows, and even then inside there are tons of places that not even the owners visited. 

To know yourself is hard, and to know the other is even harder.

You didn’t know Charles.

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[shokami]

jjk newest chapter leaks. + a blurb to vent my frustrations and sadness over the one and only gojo satoru. may he always be my one and only.

gojo satoru, i hope that in another universe you get to live as gojo satoru and not the strongest. my baby boy, what have they done to you :( so here’s a tiny blurb of words, for the king who deserved to live. curse you, gege akutami.

———————————- <3

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing… was ever enough.

Not when he got stolen away from you, sealed in a pit of Hell and trapped- cornered by the four walls of a tiny square box. What had he thought about in there? Was his mind riddled with thoughts of letting down his friends, his students that had become his children, or his lover who had spent every night and day weeping in their shared bed?

Not when you watched his life be stolen away. Oh, how foolish you are, my Satoru… You thought to yourself. No matter how much you had pleaded, and cried, he had gone and done it anyways. Surely, there had been another way than to face Sukuna himself, right? No. Everything you said, every word echoed down empty halls, and landed upon deaf ears. You weren’t a sorcerer, you didn’t know what they knew. Gojo was a weapon, a fighter, a rebel with a cause. Gojo was not a lover, not a gentle man who wanted to be loved.

To them.

… but to you? He was just that. A lover, one that your heart yearned to speak the words “I love you” to just one more time. A simple man, with a simple wish. One that meant protecting his loved ones, but coming home to a cozy bed full of laughter, warmth, sunshine, and security.

Satoru had never meant to fall in love with you, he promised that he wouldn’t ever feel that emotion. Not for just you, but for anyone who wanted to view him as a love interest. Oh, but his heart was so stupid; tripping and fumbling right into your delicate soft hands.

Not enough.

It’s not enough.

Why was I not enough?!

Those words replayed in your head, every moment of every second, as you blamed yourself. The man lied to you. Those stupid blue eyes, that silver tongue, and those flowy white strands of hair that whisked and blended in the winter breeze. Of course he lied, how was he supposed to tell his girlfriend, his partner, that if he died… he’d face a fate that was sick, and twisted? So, he did what any “good man” would. A letter, left upon your nightstand that read every detail, every plan, with leaving everything he had to you.

Once upon a time, Gojo was asked a question that would unknowingly become his fate but a few years later. So foolishly, he answered with “I’d win.” You liar! Deep down, he must have known he wouldn’t and if he didn’t… he was damn near psychotic for trying.

Now, you lost it all again. Not only had you been forced to watch your one and only die at the hands of the King of Curses but this? This was sick. You wanted to throw up, you wanted to crawl into a hole and forget that the world outside existed. How could he forfeit his own body? How could he not have peace, even in death? How could the Jujutsu world take an already broken man, and force a sense of views that would define his entire life? It wasn’t fair, but then again, what was?

It’s never enough for any of you! You silently screamed in your head, banging against every surface, rattling the bars of a cage you locked your heart in. This wasn’t your lover, but an inexperienced boy who had taken his body as if it were a mere puppet.

Your heart ceased in your chest, and you clutched at it desperately as you dry heaved in your bedroom floor. Your knees hurt from the fall, as they scraped against the carpet. A loud, broken scream escaped your dry lips. Every thought in your head hurt, and every heart beat felt like a knife straight to your core. Every single part of you felt as if it was being ripped apart, and you wished for it to end. A sweaty hand reached for your cellphone, and through blurred vision you found your voicemails as a sob choked out desperately.

“Hey there, princess! I’m not too sure how this is going to play out,” A weak laugh echoed through the phone, his tone of voice knew. He knew he wouldn’t win. “I wish that I would have had time to hold you one last time, and tell you how much I loved you. It’s funny you know… how time works? I thought by now, I’d be back home and get to see that warm smile of yours. I never told you how much I loved it, and your laugh. Goddamn, your laugh was like music to my ears, baby.” A quiet sigh left his lips, and you began to cry even harder. “I never meant to fall in love with you, y/n. I knew I’d hurt you somehow, just didn’t know this is how I’d do it… This is how it has to be, sugar. So, don’t me upset with me, mk? I’ll always be with you.”

There was a long pause, one that hurt your soul as it wished to feel his touch and his love one last time. “I love you, y/n. Goodbye.” The voicemail ended.

“LIAR!” Your voice screamed, cracking in the process as you threw your phone across the room; watching it shatter into tiny little pieces on the ground. “Liar… Liar… Liar… You’re a liar, Satoru! How could you do this to me?”

For the first time in what felt like years, you were alone.

“You weren’t Gojo Satoru because you were the strongest… You were the strongest- because you were Gojo Satoru.” Those words left your mouth, sounding cold and distant. After a heart beat, your tears began to fall again as you laid there broken.

“You were just Satoru to me, my love…”

In another universe… Maybe you will know peace.

#jjk #jjk spoilers #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jjk scenarios #jjk imagine #jjk drabbles #jjk gojo #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #gojo satoru headcanons #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo jjk #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru comfort #jujutsu kaisen spoilers

[amomentsescape]

What Should Have Been Said (Part II)

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Summary: Reader finds themselves alone for the first time in a while, confused on what to do without their home.

Warnings: Angst but fluffy end, cuss words, mentions of dying

Word Count: 1,229

You can find Part I here. A/N: Quite a few of you asked for a Part II, and I am not much for leaving a story so unhappy, so here we are :)

It had been a full three days since you last saw Thomas, and nothing had felt right since then.

You had no fucking clue where you were going when you ran off that afternoon. But once the adrenaline wore off and your mind cleared, you realized how stupid of a choice you had made.

It took hours to make it to the nearest town. Your mouth felt like chalk, and your feet were dragging more and more with each step you took.

But thankfully, a passerby saw your condition and caught you before your body could fully collapse to the ground.

A short rest and three bottles of water later, you explained that your car had broken down several miles back.

There was no way you were going to be honest about what actually happened. Besides the fact that you felt ashamed and rejected over the situation with Thomas, there was a part of you that still cared about him too much to make him out to be the bad guy. And whatever hatred or anger you might have felt earlier had long since worn off by then, leaving you only with the feeling of pure heartbreak.

The passerby believed your story and stayed with you late into the evening, insisting on making sure you were okay. But after seeing you move around by yourself just fine, they felt comfortable leaving you alone once you reassured them.

And thankfully, your wallet had been in your pocket when you ran off earlier.

You found a nearby motel and rented a room for a couple nights in order to figure out what to do.

But each night came and went without so much as a plan or alleviation from your pain.

Even if you had the strength to make the trek back, why would you even bother? It was clear he didn't want you there anymore. He didn't need you, so what use was it to go back to a home that no longer welcomed you?

Your eyes began to sting again with the familiar feeling of tears before you quickly swallowed the lump and wiped them away.

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You didn't have enough money to extend your stay, and you had no source of transportation to make it anywhere else.

Your home had been him and now, you had nothing.

You sat on the bed of the dingy motel room for as long as you could before they'd kick you out, finally dragging yourself outside and into the heat once more.

It still burned as painfully as before, but it honestly felt nice to feel something other than utter despair for a change.

You went to a local diner and sat yourself in a corner booth, just ordering a water for the time being.

The waitress seemed to take pity on you and let you just rest there for a while, nursing that same cup of water over the next few hours.

They thankfully weren't too busy, so that was likely why they didn't kick you out before the sun fully set. But of course, the restaurant had to close at some point, so you had to finally peel yourself from the seat and wander out into the night.

You almost chuckled to yourself as you trekked along the dark street. After all those hours sitting alone by yourself with nothing but your thoughts, you hadn't figured out even the slightest idea of what the hell your next step was.

Your footsteps echoed against the gravel in the quiet town.

Thomas had given you everything. Food, clothes, water, shelter, love, a home, a family. Without him, you really had nothing.

You felt the warm tears drip down your face despite your protest. You would think after doing nothing but crying for three days that your body would have been over it by now. But it seemed that tears could never end if the pain was strong enough.

The cacophony of your uneven steps was now mixing with your pathetic sobs as you tried to choke them back. But no matter how hard you tried, the crying just kept coming on stronger.

You weren't able to even gather a breath until you heard a breaking twig off to your left.

Your movements froze and you snapped your head toward the source of the sound, only to be met with nothing.

Literally, nothing. You thought there might have been a wooded area where you were looking, but the night had become so dark that you couldn't see anything but black.

You squinted your eyes, trying to garner up some idea of what was out there, praying that it was just some small animal scurrying around among the branches. But when a looming shadow began to appear within the dark haze, you felt everything in you drop to your stomach.

So much for planning on what to do without Thomas. None of it would matter if you were killed.

You shakily took a few steps back as the figure came closer, slowly.

Was it toying with you?

You tried to back away even further but felt that you no longer had control over your body. Pure fear mixed with exhaustion, and your legs no longer wanted to work. Your body had failed you.

The shadow's hand reached out to your figure and you prepared for immediate pain. And against your better judgment, in a moment of pure panic, you screamed out into the night.

"Thomas!"

Your voice cracked, and you felt pitiful, but if you were going to die, at least your last words would be something meaningful.

The hand finally reached you but instead of the rough grasp you were expecting, you were met with a soft touch from calloused skin.

The shadow was finally close enough that you could make out its features, and you about fell to your knees at the sight.

Thomas was standing in front of you, his hand caressing your face as he stared at you with watery eyes.

Was this real? Maybe you were already dead, and this had all been some nightmare all along.

But his touch felt real, and his scent was all too familiar.

He caught you before you could fully crumple to the ground.

"T-Thomas?"

He nodded quickly and pulled you closer to him as he wiped away the sweat and tears accumulating on your face.

"What are you doing here?" you croaked.

He simply pointed at you with a shaking finger, his eyes never leaving yours.

Some weird part of you wanted to laugh at this. There was no way he could have come this far and found you. How could he?

"You told me y-you would never leave home."

You could feel the tears starting to form again as an unbelieving smile formed on your lips.

He shook his head and pointed at you once again, his finger touching softly against the middle of your chest.

You were his home.

With what little strength you had left, you bent upwards towards him, resting your head against his as he pulled you even closer to him.

He was here now. It was going to be okay.

He picked you up with ease as he began to make the long trek back home, not letting you go for even a second the whole way there.

For those that asked for a part II: @rosehilol @imhungry675 @blackrose8425 @littlechomper

#slashers x reader #slashers #slashers preference #slasher preference #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre

[fluentmoviequoter]

No Party Like a Costco Party

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!shy!reader

Summary: You enjoy going to Costco, so Tim decides to take you shopping on your birthday. With a little help from your best friend, it turns into a party.

Warnings: just fluff!

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

“Tim!” Lucy calls as he walks into the bullpen.

He stops and watches her as she skips toward him. Even though he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, she continues smiling and bounces when she reaches him.

“What are you doing for my best friend’s birthday?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Tim answers. “I will be doing something for my girlfriend’s birthday, though.”

“Just admit that she likes me more than you.”

“No.”

“Tim,” Lucy groans. She punches his arm playfully, then ignores his offended glare as she asks, “What do you have in mind?”

Tim shrugs and admits, “I’m not sure yet. I was thinking I may just take her to Costco or something.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” Wesley interjects.

“Why are you here?” Tim asks as he looks over. “And it’s none of your business, or yours, Lucy.”

“A trip to Costco is not romantic, Tim,” Wesley says. “But I have a client who needs my help. It seems you do, too, but Lucy can handle your girlfriend issues.”

“No one is handling anything!” Tim snaps.

“I’m with Wesley,” Angela comments from her desk.

“It never ends,” Tim sighs.

“She does love Costco,” Lucy agrees. “She’d enjoy going with you.”

“Wait,” Angela says. She chuckles as she looks up at Tim. “Your girlfriend, the shyest person I’ve ever met, likes going to Costco? The busiest store in existence?”

“Is it too late to back out of this conversation?” Tim asks.

“Absolutely,” Angela answers. “So, just a trip to Costco. That’s all the birthday girl gets?”

“I’d like to do more, but-“

“I’ve got it!” Lucy cheers, slapping Tim’s arm again.

“Stop hitting me!” he demands as he steps away from her.

“What if you surprise her at Costco? Like, her friends could ‘run into’ her while shopping, and then someone can have a cake or something at the café. It would be so fun, Tim!” Lucy suggests.

“That’s… it’s not a terrible idea,” Tim murmurs. “I don’t know how she’d feel about interacting with a bunch of people, though.”

“She loves us,” Angela reminds Tim. “Just a quick ‘hey, happy birthday’ and then she moves on. We don’t have to draw attention to her or anything.”

“Fine, yeah, let’s do it,” Tim agrees.

“Yay!” Lucy yells. “I’ll go invite the people she likes.”

Tim watches Lucy run through the bullpen and shakes his head. It’s a good thing you like Costco and Lucy, he thinks, because it’s certainly nothing he would have planned alone.

“What are you doing?” you ask softly.

Tim sets his phone aside and then places his arm back around you. As he pulls you against his side, he sighs.

“Checking to see how many seconds are left until your birthday,” he jokes. “Lucy had a question.”

“Is it going to be terrible?”

“It’s your birthday. It’s going to be great.”

Tim jostles you gently, and when you turn your face against his shoulder, you feel him chuckle. He enjoys making you shy, or simply reminding you of how shy you were when you first met. With your birthday coming up, you know that Tim has something planned. You can only hope that it’s a good surprise. As Tim pulls you closer, you listen to his heartbeat.

“I got Kojo treats at Costco today,” you tell him.

“Of course, you did,” Tim murmurs before he kisses your head.

“Go get ready, birthday girl,” Tim says.

He takes your plate to the kitchen, and you sneak Kojo a bite of your breakfast leftovers. Waking up to Tim making you breakfast was special, but since he told you that he had more planned for your birthday, you’ve grown more curious and more excited.

“To go where?” you ask.

“Shopping.”

You furrow your brows but stand and push your chair in regardless of your confusion. Tim isn’t a big fan of shopping, so you assume this particular shopping trip has to do with what day it is. After you’re dressed and ready, Tim takes your hand and leads you to his truck.

When he pulls into a turn lane, you feel confident you know where he’s taking you. You frequent Costco often; it's fun to browse and kill time in a place where you can disappear and go unnoticed every once in a while. Tim usually teases you for how much you use your Costco card, but he hasn’t made a single sarcastic comment today.

“Are we going to Costco?” you ask excitedly.

“We are,” Tim answers as he turns. “Unless you want to do something else.”

“No, this is great!”

Tim smiles and when he glances at you, you try to control your excitement and watch the road instead of him. You have a mental list of things you’d like to look at, and maybe treat yourself to since it is your birthday after all. Tim extends his hand over the console of his truck, and you happily lay your hand in his. He interlaces his fingers through yours and squeezes twice. The moment he parks, however, your hand is pulled from his as you exit the truck.

You walk through the entrance and take Tim’s hand again as you look at the promotional items in the front of the store. Tim watches you as you read signs and stop to touch an oversized stuffed animal. He knows what’s waiting for you inside, but seeing you so excited was worth the trip, he thinks.

“Well, look who it is.”

You turn quickly and smile when you see Angela. She pulls you into a hug as Tim and Wesley shake hands. They share a look, and you pinch your brows as you step back from Angela.

“Happy birthday,” she tells you. “Has Tim bought you anything yet?” “No,” you answer with a chuckle. “I’m just glad he finally came with me.”

“Tim Bradford saying no? I can’t imagine it.”

You laugh at Angela’s sarcasm, and Tim smiles at how happy you are. You’re always fun to be around, even if you are hiding against him because he made you shy, but birthday joy is a good look on you.

“There’s a sale on rings, Tim,” Wesley says.

Your eyes widen before you drop your gaze to the floor. There has been no discussion of getting engaged or married in your relationship with Tim, but it’s certainly somewhere you can see yourself going.

“It’s her birthday,” Tim chides. “Don’t do that to her.”

“Well, we have to get back to the kids,” Angela interjects. “They’ll riot soon if they don’t get their snacks. Enjoy the rest of your birthday!” “Thanks, Angela.”

You hug her once more and wave at Wesley before Tim lays his hands on your shoulders and steers you toward your favorite section of the store. He keeps a hand on you as you browse, moving when you do. It was a surprise to see someone you know, and on your birthday, no less, but you don’t think too much about the coincidence.

Until someone says, “Happy birthday!” down the aisle from you, at least.

“Hi, Sergeant Grey, Luna,” you greet.

You look toward Tim quickly, but he shrugs and lays his hand across your back.

“Will she ever call me anything other than Sergeant?” Wade asks Tim as Luna hugs you tightly.

“I’ve been trying to get her to call me Sergeant, but she won’t do it,” Tim laments.

“Ignore them,” Luna encourages you. “How’s the birthday going?”

“It’s great,” you answer. “Tim made me breakfast and hasn’t tortured me yet.”

“Yet,” Tim scoffs.

“We just ran into Angela and Wesley, too.”

“Small world,” Wade muses.

“Big city,” you argue, looking toward Tim.

“Do me a favor and buy yourself something amazing for your birthday, and I will see you at lunch next week,” Luna tells you. “Bye, Tim.”

Tim waves as they pass, and you cross your arms to look at him.

“What?” he asks with his brows raised.

“You’re doing something,” you accuse. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“I am doing something,” Tim admits. “Loving you.”

You drop your arms and tip your head back, which Tim takes as an opportunity to wrap you in a bear hug. You grip the back of his shirt, somewhere between shy because of the public affection and relieved because you need a hug.

“Alright, let’s go find you something to buy,” Tim declares. “For me to buy for you, I mean.”

“You don’t have to,” you say quietly.

“It’s your birthday, and it’s my boyfriend-ly duty.”

“That’s not a word,” you mumble as he leads you to the next aisle.

You browse several aisles before you see someone else you know, and now you’re convinced that Tim has orchestrated this. After running into at least a dozen people that you know and choosing not one but three things that you like, you and Tim approach the checkout lanes. He pays for your gifts and takes your hand.

As he leads you to the café seating area, you see your best friend, Lucy. Tim grumbles as you release his hand to approach her. You stop short when you see a birthday cake sitting on the table beside her.

“Happy birthday!” she calls as she rounds the table to hug you. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“You did all of this?” you ask, looking between Tim and Lucy.

“It was Tim’s idea, I just helped,” she says.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Don’t get shy yet, you have half of Mid-Wilshire to share that cake with,” Tim replies.

On cue, everyone you’ve run into today approaches the table to give you more birthday wishes and a few gifts. The attention makes you shy, but they’re your friends, and you appreciate them and their kindness more than you can, or would, say.

Lucy passes you a piece of cake and stands beside you as everyone else begins eating.

“Was it really Tim’s idea?” you ask.

“Yeah. He said he was going to bring you to Costco, and I just recommended a cake,” she says. “Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for the cake; Tim ordered it. Oh! I also have a gift for you in my car, so don’t leave before I give it to you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. We’re best friends, and you are the kindest, most special person I have ever met. If anyone deserves this kind of love on their birthday, it’s you.”

You set your plate down to hug Lucy and only release her when Tim grabs your waist. He laughs when you lean against him but drops his head and whispers to ask if you’re okay. Very early in your relationship, he learned your tells. He knows when you’re overwhelmed, when you’re getting shy enough that he needs to give you a minute, and every other little thing about you.

“I’m great,” you answer. “Thank you for all of this.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“Seriously, it is,” Wesley adds. “Making you use your Costco card to get into your birthday celebration was certainly… a choice.”

“It’s perfect,” you say. “And all my friends are here.” “Plus these people,” Lucy jokes as she gestures to everyone else.

“You’re just her best friend because you can carry both sides of the conversation, so she never gets shy with you,” Nyla teases.

“And our mutual disdain for Tim’s weird humour,” Lucy adds.

“What’s that?” Tim asks, tipping his head toward you. “You want to leave now? Okay, let’s go.”

You laugh as he tries to pull you away, but you’re enjoying your Costco birthday party too much to leave. When Wade offers to stand on the table and tell all the other customers that it’s your big day, however, you consider taking Tim up on that offer.

#tim bradford x reader #shy!reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford oneshot #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #fem!reader #requests #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #hanna writes✯

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt ~ Sturniolo Triplets

You and the Sturniolo's had been close even before you were born. Your father was close with Jimmy and when the triplets were born, two years before you, your father and Jimmy still stayed friends, resulting in you having three protective friends who were practically brothers.

As you grew up with the triplets, many people noticed yours and Matt's personalities were very similar, resulting in you gaining the nickname, Mini Matt.

You lived with the triplets in LA, your father letting you move out after you finished school. You had a good following on TikTok as well.

At the moment, you were just chilling on the sofa, scrolling through your phone, waiting on the boys to get ready as you planned a day out. Nick was first to come down, greeting you cheerfully.

"Hey bub!" He exclaimed, joining you on the sofa.

"Hi Nick." You replied casually.

"Anywhere in particular you want to go today?" He asked.

"Not really." You answered.

Nick nodded and soon you were joined by Matt and Chris. The four of you made your way to the car and within the first few minutes of driving, Chris and Nick were arguing about where to go. You looked at Matt, who looked back at you through the mirror, both of you rolling your eyes at the two.

"Will you two shut the fuck up." You said, interrupting them both.

"Yeah it's getting annoying, we've only been in the car for a few minutes." Matt added.

"Alright moody duo." Chris mumbled, as he looked out the window. Nick rolled his eyes as the car fell into a comfortable silence, music playing softly.

After some more quiet driving, you four soon arrived at the mall, finally settling on a destination. When you got out, you walked alongside Matt, both Nick and Chris rushing ahead.

"Let's get food!" Chris exclaimed, as you and Matt reached him and Nick.

"I agree, we missed breakfast." Nick said.

"Ha! You agree with me!" Chris shouted, sticking his tongue out at Nick. Both you and Matt shook your heads.

When you found a place you all wanted to eat, Nick ordered for you all as you found a table to sit at.

"You two aren't very chatty today." Nick mentioned as you all sat to eat.

"Nothing much to say." You said.

"Hard when you two are screaming like fucking monkeys." Matt said.

The two just laughed as you ate. What else made them laugh was the two of you were eating and drinking the exact same thing. Not only was your personality similar to Matt's, so was your eating habits.

"How can you prefer that over Pepsi?" Chris questioned, pointing to your root beer.

"Just do." You answered shortly.

"Alright Mini Matt." He said.

You rolled your eyes but secretly loved the nickname. It made you feel included by the triplets.

"Just cause I prefer root beer over Pepsi and don't say muc-" You began to say but got interrupted by Chris.

"Oh Mini Mattitude!" He shouted, making Nick laugh.

"What?" Matt questioned.

"She has Mini Mattitude!" Chris repeated.

"You have Mattitude and she's a mini version of you." Nick explained, making Matt nod slowly as he looked at you.

"Fucking buffoon." You grumbled, sipping your root beer, making the trio all laugh, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

#sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #fluff #mattitude #friends #family #friendship #platonic #platonic relationships

[rosesandswordsforapence]

Envy and Damsels

Summary: Lady Leighton had one goal for the season: have her brother marry so she could be free of managing his household and affairs. The title of Earl still fresh on his shoulders and her mother still bared down by grief, her last intent was to have the eyes of the ton on her instead of him. But then Lady Whistledown made her seem like a damsel in a fairytale, and who can resist playing knight?

Pairing: Reader x Undecided Bridgerton boy

Parts: 1/?

In her defense, none of this was intended.

She desired nothing more than for the season to pass peacefully, not that it mattered much to her as far as how the actual courting went given she was not being formally debuted. The eyes of the ton were not even supposed to be on her, but on her brother.

He was a Earl Matthias Leighton, the eldest of the Leighton family.

The plan had been for her to debut, but recently her mother had started failing to uphold her duties as the matriarch which kept her in the home preparing for events and the day to day running of the estate. Her brother started to depend on her. She cared for him far too much to disappoint, so she thought she could brave the ton without debuting. She could force a smile while he made connections with the men for trade and land, she could ignore the pang when she saw the other women her age debut with smiles and dancing while she did the duties of a married woman without any of the actual joys of courting or marriage.

She thought she could swallow her desires. Neglect her desires like a garden left without rain until her family deemed her ready and the family secure enough for her to join another.

She wasn't.

The moment she saw the smiling faces of the Bridgertons she found her blood boiling. She held no ill will toward them, having met the mother once or twice when she was too young to stay with a governess and her mother wanted to join her for tea. Oh no, her envy was what inspired her to turn he head when she heard their voice at the markets. Because, despite the lose of the late Viscount Edmund Bridgerton, they went on.

She envied every laugh, every slight smile, every playful push and pull between the siblings. Because she used to have that. Before she essentially became a business partner with her brother to protect the family image. An image she cared deeply for but also wished to disappear from.

A big part of her hoped that her rather stoic brother would madly fall in love at first sight. That he would marry as fast as the church would allow and allow her to resign from this odd position. Not the matriarch but not a debutante. Not secure in her family but not yet able to join another and start her own. It felt like she was walking a tightrope and her lifeline would only come when her brother said "I do" to some faceless bride.

So, that was her priority. Getting him to marry and have an heir as soon as possible.

She shuddered as she thought of how she sounded like any of the mothers in ton. She hated that she was the youngest of the two of them but was all but forced into a motherly role.

So, forgive her if she was a bit curt. Though it did not seem Lady Whistledown was keen to do so.

Dearest readers,

With the beginning of the courting season starting we seem to have been blessed with early scandal! Not only are the Leightons back in town after the unexpected death of the late Earl Johnathon Leighton but they are back without the widowed Scarlet Leighton. It seems that perhaps the current Earl overestimated his dear younger sister's resilience to such seeing as she has been here but a fortnight and has already shunned three dances from well to do gentlemen. The three hands being from the three eldest Bridgertons no less!

Perhaps her brother has yet to teach her manners in his grief? Or perhaps the mourning period has kept her away too long to remember decorum?

Though, this writer thinks there may be more to it. A few insiders remark that the widow has become unaccountable in managing the household and has let the bulk of the managing to the young lady in her grief. Another inside source states that the Earl has even banned his young sister from partaking in any activity outside of managing the household, including dancing!

If this is to be the case, it seems Lady Leighton will be in desperate need of saving if she wishes to not be a spinster. Surely, every damsel in distress will have a knight to save her, the only questions is who will slay the dragon of her family for her?

#bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader

[lillchris]

You With The Dark Curls; You With The Water Colured Eyes (2)

Chapter Two: I'd Start a Riot Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: Title inspo from BANNERS song "Start A Riot" I will try and make this chapter, and future ones longer :) Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Stay Safe love you all <3

BANNERS song below in case you haven't listened to it, or want to! ;)

Start a Riot

TW: Angst, Swearing, anxiety and panic attack

Luckily when Paige walked back inside, Drew wasn't right there carping her with questions, which she was currently thankful for. 

In fact, she didn't know what exactly to think of at the moment. All she could think about was everything Jalen had said in the course of their heated conversation. Even though she was angry with Jalen at the beginning of their discussion, she had tried to keep it civil.  But screw it, it had escalated to anything but a civil conversation by the end of it all. 

The fact that Jalen had the audacity to bring up her parent’s divorce was a very low blow, but yet in all the years that Paige had known him, it didn’t surprise her too much that he would make a comment like that, and it gave Paige yet another reason to never speak to Jalen again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the couch, Azzi was consumed in her own pool of thoughts. 

She mentally kicked herself for not being able to give Jalen her full what for. She knew that if she somehow did now, it would make the situation worse, and that was the last thing Paige needed.  However, in her mind, she hoped that sometime in the very near future the situation would arise where she could.  She made a mental note and added Jalen to the list of people she wanted to bitch slap. and yes Azzi had a list, and by all means, he deserved it. 

Azzi rose from the couch, silently, walking into the kitchen, eyeing her parents, who were still cleaning the kitchen.  She kept her presence brief as she filled a glass with ice water, as she felt Tim and Katie’s eyes on her.  She said nothing, only glancing at them as her parents frowned.  It was one of those eyes that spoke more than words moments.  Azzi’s expression and demeanor told her parents pretty much everything.  They stayed quiet, as they watched their daughter walk away, before having a conversation of their own. 

Azzi crouched down in front of Paige meeting her eye level with the couch as she handed her the glass of water. 

Their eyes met, and something in Paige softened, as her best friend watched her face relax. 

Azzi was always the one who could do that, no one else.  She somehow made her feel at peace, even in moments when she felt like everything around her was crashing.  She was there for her when she injured her ACL, there for her when she wanted to give up, physically and mentally in rehab, every time. She was there for her when Jalen had broken her heart, letting her cry. Azzi was her safe haven.  Azzi had told Paige once, that she saved her, but in reality, it was vice versa.  To her Azzi was the one who had truly saved her.

Flashback… (November 2022)

Why did this injury even have to happen? One season, please, an injury-free healthy season, that’s what she had hoped for. Longed for, Prayed for, asked God for, but He had different plans. Through the constant painful days of rehab Paige was really starting to wonder what that plan truly was.

“Six months” “Nine months” “Possibly up to a year maybe more.” That’s what she had heard over and over again from Orthopedic Specialists and doctors. “Oh your young and healthy! It might not take that long for recovery!” They’d say or “You should be thankful it isn’t worse.” She didn’t want sympathy or pity, she wanted to be out on the court, playing. Instead she had to watch from the sidelines as her teammates played games she would have been in too if it hadn’t been for this.

She fucking hated it. Being away from the court, being resentful towards her teammates, the jealousy, the envy all of it! She knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but the jealousy always crept in somehow.

Most of all she missed the court, even the sound. The way her shoes would squeak against the hardwood, or the way the rubber and layers upon layers of fiber felt in her hand as she gripped the basketball.

Ball was life, who was she without it if she couldn’t play? She didn’t mean it, but she also didn’t want to lie to herself and not acknowledge that half of that statement wasn’t true, because it was.

Paige mentally cursed herself as one of the therapists aided her in the usual “daily walk” they called it. It was supposed to be a towards the end of the day type of casual walk, but to Paige it was anything but casual. The walk was a fucking menace, as Paige felt every muscle in her right “good leg” burn as it tried to compensate for her bum left one.

She was about to curse out loud but the sound of Azzi’s voice stopped her from doing so. As she glanced over toward the hallway entrance she saw Azzi, her Azzi. Even though she had seen her two days prior, something in Paige always skipped when she saw her. She didn’t know what to root it to, the fact that she missed her or something else. All Paige knew was the she was elated to see her best friend, as even the presence of her encouraged Paige to keep going.

———————————————————————

“Paige! It’s your turn to give me my gift!”Drew said excitedly, snapping his big sister out of her daze, and back into the present moment.

“Oh uh yeah right!” Paige said with a slight smile as she got up from the couch and handed Drew his present.

Paige was trying to be as enthusiastic as she could that evening as everyone opened presents, but her efforts were in vain.

Azzi glanced over at Paige. She knew that the events from this morning were effecting Paige more than she knew, physically Paige was there with everyone, but mentally she was in another place.

Azzi said nothing, as she silently intertwined her fingers with Paige’s, in hopes to help keep her grounded in the moment despite the fact her mind was spiraling.

“Yes! This is exactly what I wanted! Thank you!”Drew said happily before engulfing his big sister in a tight embrace.

Drew was ecstatic about his present, due to the fact he now had a PlayStation Portal. He could easily play Fortnite virtually anywhere, without being tied to his console. Which in turn didn’t help his video game obsession, but Drew was happy and to Paige that’s all that mattered.

“You gotta open yours now.” Azzi said mustering up a smile as she handed Paige a small velvet box.

The content of the box contained a small sliver ring with the wording engraved on the front “My Ride Or Die”. Their initials ‘P&A’ engraved on the inside.

Paige smiled, and chuckled lightly before handing Azzi a slightly bigger velvet box.

Azzi gasped slightly, before laughing a little and smiling upon seeing the item.

Unironically enough, inside was an identical silver stylish bracelet with the same wording on the front and their initials, this time on the back.

"They really are soulmates." Jose whispered to Drew with a laugh making a heart hands toward the two girls jokingly.

"Now we're matching." Paige stated as she carefully placed the bracelet around Azzi's smaller wrist.

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

"Alright that's it for me I'm done, I already lost five hotels four houses, and seven hundred dollars. I'm practically broke." Paige says laughing as she sets her play piece on the Monopoly board.

"Yeah, I guess I'm out too, Drew drained me of all resources." Azzi says as she noogies Drew's head jokingly.

"Oh come on it's only 3am. You two are dropping out and going to bed like an old married couple." Jose teases as Paige and Azzi roll their eyes, and walk down the hall toward Azzi's bedroom.

Later that night, silence filled the bedroom as Azzi and Paige lay opposite the queen-sized mattress. They always shared a bed whenever Paige visited the Fudds, so it wasn't out of the norm for them to share a bed, but tonight something was different.

"You awake Paige?" Azzi asked curiously as she lay on her side, before glancing over at Paige who had her back facing her.

"Yeah, um I'm awake." Paige said vaguely not even turning around to face Azzi.

Tonight Paige was closed off like a butterfly, sheltered in the cacoon walls she had put up to protect herself, and no matter what Azzi did she couldn't get through to her. Azzi didn't blame Paige at all for being closed off, but she just wished that Paige would let her carry her burdens; together through all of this.

"You don't have to say anything but, if you do, I'm here to talk or just listen. I'm here; always."

Paige said nothing, but internally she felt like she was on the brink of drowning. All the air left her lungs as she felt as though she was barely keeping her head above water. Her ears felt as though they were burning, her mind was screaming at her. Paige felt as though her heart was beating out of her chest, feeling the ever-looming feeling of nausea rising in her throat. She didn't know what was happening to her. Her senses were shot through the roof, and it was only then did she realize her labored breathing could be heard by Azzi.

"Paige." Azzi's voice stretched out to her, but at this point, her friend was unreachable, as something threatened to pull her under. Take her away from the only thing, the only person who could possibly pull her from the waves she was being taken under by.

"Paige, it's me, Azzi, You're here with me, whatever you're experiencing right now, I'm here with you in this moment." Azzi said softly holding Paige's hand in a desperate attempt to somehow bring her back to this moment.

In Paige's mind, she could hear her best friend calling out to her, but the thoughts and dread that had surpassed her earlier in the day had become all too much for her.

"Paige, can you hear me? I need you to slow down your breathing, long inhales, and exhales."

Paige made slight eye contact with Azzi, despite her eyes still being hazy and glazed over. Her vision was blurry and she could barely make out the shape of Azzi's face, as her fast spurts of breathing threatened to cause her blackout.

"Paige, I can't have you hyperventilating do you remember the grounding techniques we learned in psychology class?

Azzi firmly set both hands on Paige's shoulders, Azzi was damn determined to bring Paige out of this.

"Whatever is happening to you right now, whatever you're thinking it isn't true, none of it is. Whatever Jalen said to you isn't true. Your are an amazing person, you are smart, and kind. Who you love or how you love does not make you less. Your my best friend, your beautiful, and more than deserving of being loved, and to love. Your past circumstances do not define you.

Those words seemed to break through to Paige, as she slowly came back to the present moment. Her vision cleared and she was finally able to see Azzi clearly, as her chocolate brown, gentle eyes stared back into Paige's blue ones.

"I-I." Paige started to say, but Azzi gently shushed her, and she practically collapsed into Azzi's embrace. Paige's walls fell down, and Azzi was there to catch her.

"Shhhh I know, it's okay. I've got you, it's okay you can let it out. "

It made Azzi's heartbreak knowing Paige probably had kept this, and a lot of things pent up for a while now. Paige was always the tough one, the strong one, the leader. She was always there for others, but no one was there for her, not truly at least. She never really had any way or anyone she could talk to about everything.

Don't get Azzi wrong, she loved Paige's family, but she always wondered why her parents split when she was so young. She knew it was a very sensitive subject for Paige, and she respected that, but her mind always wondered. Azzi recalled when had taken Psychology I, that the earliest a child could remember things was age three. While it was often spotty and vague, a child would start to remember.

Azzi hated the fact that Paige had no one to talk to about this matter and everything else in between. From that moment on, Azzi made a promise to herself; that she would be that somebody.

Paige's sobs subsided, as Azzi looked down at her, realizing she had fallen asleep in her arms, utterly drained and exhausted.

Azzi sighed, laying Paige in her bed again as she climbed in beside her, thankful now that she was finally sleeping peacefully. It was only when Azzi heard Paige's snoring that was she satisfied.

Paige cuddled up to Azzi, as she softly planted a kiss on Paige's forehead. Usually, Azzi would be annoyed by her snoring, but tonight it was a more than welcome gift.

a/n: That's it, I know that this chapter was a bit deeper, and had some sensitive topics, but I promise to have more fluff in the future!! As always I would love to hear what you all think! <3

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