#I don’t like the way Brandon’s face and body look anymore

[starrdevereauxx]

I said last time would be the last time.

Brandon broke up with me 6 months ago. I’ve been a wreck for weeks on end. I promised myself to get over it, but it’s been such a hard thing to process. We would always fight, make up, make love and act like nothing ever happened. He was gone this time. This was the longest we ever been apart.

I try to find things to do to pass the time, but nothing ever seems to take my mind off him. I still smell him, breathe him, and feel him through my body. Our mutual friends always give messages about him, but I’ve been ignoring them lately. My heart can’t take listening to his name, let alone hearing of any accomplishments.

I need to run my errands today, but like everyday I become sad running them alone. We did everything together, after 6 years I can’t believe that we don’t do this anymore.

Heading to the grocery store I become sad with my list of groceries for one instead of two. I hop in my car and turn on “our” playlist. Hoping I can borrow a feeling from any song that plays. Another slow song begins to play and I’m seeing myself in the mirror. Envisioning him touching me, wishing my hands were his. Rubbing the side of my face, choking me ever so lightly. I literally just felt my pussy drip at this light.

“Get it together Dev” I say trying to convince myself that I’m over him. Knowing damn well I’m not. I can feel him inside my pussy when I think about him. The feeling intensifies with every breath I take.

I gather myself to go inside of the store, with my lonely list of single items. Looking at the list I just remember every single meal I ever made for him. Pouring my heart into each meal, now I can only make food for myself. I sob gathering myself for this lonely trip.

I walk through the store, gathering each item reluctantly. Wishing we were laughing together, talking about what we gonna pretend to watch on Netflix when we got back home. Saying pretend because it we wouldn’t make it pass the opening credits without his chocolate snicker veined dick engorged in my throat. He would be gagging me before we knew the name of the movie.

After looking at my cart, I figured I deserved a treat. I tried to maintain a healthy cart since I’m single, I need to stay in shape. The most physical activity I get is the gym these days, so I had to maintain some resemblance of care in my food intake. But with all the crying that I’ve been doing, today I deserve a treat. I decided to head back to the ice cream isle and help myself to something to lift my spirits.

As I walk to the back of the store with my headphones on, I’m letting Chris Brown sing me to a happy place. I almost begin to get a spring in my step as he’s talking about fucking someone back to sleep.

I make it to the ice cream section and I immediately look for Ben & Jerry’s tasty ass. I see it, straight ahead “Chunky Monkey”. I move my cart out of the way to reach for it. As I get ready to reach for the pint, I feel some thing grab me, startled I think I’m in trouble for climbing inside the refrigerator. Moving my headphones so I can hear, a deep, smoldering voice says

“that’s still your favorite ice cream I see, even though I also remember that your monkey was the only chunky I ever wanted”.

I’m fucking stuck. There’s only one voice I know that sounds like that, and my pussy dripping is letting me know exactly who it is.

“Brandon, oh wow. It’s crazy seeing you here. How are you?” I gulp nervously.

“You look good Dev, time has been good to you. But then again when has it not?” Brandon says as he looks at me like he’s about to take my throat from me right here in this store.

As I prepare to answer him, someone loudly over talks me.

“Babe, BABE.. do you want movie popcorn or kettle corn?” I turn to see a bubbly perky breasted young lady yelling to her significant other about popcorn. I turned back around to see if I see him, just for my heart to sink as I realize that there’s nobody here but me and Brandon here. She’s talking to him. Oh my God, he has a girlfriend.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, I was just trying to get a hold of my fiancé, I didn’t mean to bump you, my apologies” she smiles.

“Kettle Corn baby, thank you” he replies.

She skips off to honor his request. I stand there putting my broken heart back in my chest, not making it obvious that I’m literally breaking apart inside. FIANCÉ!?!? What in the fuck is this? After 6 years together, he never asked me to marry him. I’m even more convinced that it was never going to be me.

“Well congratulations to you and your fiancé, you deserve happiness. Be well Brandon.” I say tearfully as I run off, forgetting my ice cream. At this point I just want to disappear.

I get to the register, pay for my items and hurry to my car.

It was a long walk to my car. I always parked far from stores because I loved to get my steps in. Every step counts to me. So I had enough time to cry myself to the car and be over it by the time I started my car.

I open my trunk and back seat to place my purse down as I organize my groceries in the back, just incase if I needed room for a surprise bullseye store trip. I think after that encounter, I deserve some retail therapy now.

As I near the finish of my organization, I feel someone tap me from behind and say “I thought we discussed you parking way the hell back here. Nobody can see you back here.” Brandon says with what looks like chunky monkey ice cream in his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing back here? Where’s your fiancé? Why are you here? I-“ he stops me mid sentence, placing the ice cream in my hand.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you about Keisha. You didn’t deserve to find out like this” he says looking at me sincerely.

“You don’t owe me anything, we are over. It’s your life. We have both clearly moved on.” I say proudly, pretending that I don’t feel like bending over right now and letting him turn me into a Twinkie.

He stares at me in my eyes with a look I haven’t seen in so long, but I remember well. I break contact and go back to packing my car so I can leave this awkward encounter.

He grabs my arm forcefully, making me drop my car keys in the backseat. Turning me towards him, forcing me to look at him. I begin to tear away in anger because I’m loosing control to my body.

“Get the fuck off me Brandon, what in the hell is your problem. Let me the fuck go.”

I try to break free from his grip. I feel his dick literally growing with anticipation the more I fight.

He stops me and looks me in my eyes. He’s subdued me with his piercing glare. He presses up against me, placing his hands on my body. One softly but firmly on my neck and the other on my left breast, lightly massaging it and grazing the nipple ever so softly. My breathing becomes shallow and scattered. What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Isn’t his fiancé near by or in the car wondering where he is. I’m sure she’s looking for him. In this moment, I don’t think either one of us cares. My pussy is wet and gushing between my panties that I know is drenched at this point.

“I know you feel what I feel for you. I haven’t had a day go by that I haven’t thought about you Dev. We broke up, but never really let go. If you tell me to let you go right now, I’ll stop and walk away forever. You want me to stop?” He says while looking me in my dough eyes. I have no voice to even reply. My red lips are pursed and parted from the small breaths I continue to take. I shake my head no while staring him completely in his eyes.

He leans onto me, kissing me softly, hand still wrapped around my neck. He kisses my lips softly and becomes more aggressive every time he touches his lips to mine. He parts my lips to slide his tongue inside my mouth, I close my mouth to proceed to suck his tongue. Feeling now that his dick is rock hard.

“Show me that you still love me” he says as I’m already unbuckling his jeans. I drop to my knees and open my mouth. Giving him my entire throat to use as he pleases. Forcing my head on and off his dick, using my mouth as his personal pocket pussy. Grabbing both sides of my face, moaning loudly in this parking structure like we are outside alone. He literally has no fear of being caught in this moment. Brandon’s dick is so deep down my throat that he’s breathing for the both of us.

I feel his precum slip pass my lips. He stops. He pulls me off my knees and stands me up, just to pull down my leggings, revealing my cummed in panties. He begins to take his dick to rub my clit while I stand there defenseless.

Brandon forcefully turns me around, placing me in position. I automatically arch the posture of my back, taking my hands to spread my giant ass to show my wet dripping pussy that’s salivating for his erection to be inside me.

“Such a good girl, still obedient like I remember. Tell me what you want” he orders me.

“Fuck me hard please. Take my pussy from me” I say patiently waiting for him to beat my pussy like an Undertaker versus Mankind cage match.

He forces his dick inside my tight wet pussy, moaning hard as he enters. I grip him hard with my pussy as he’s thrusting aggressively in and out of me.

He’s pulsating inside of me as he’s moving. I’m feeling every inch of him as he’s continuing to grow inside of me. Just moving back and forth, harder and harder. I’m moaning so loud and hard, tears in my eyes from how good it feels to have his dick inside me. Holding my breasts as he’s making me take his dick roughly outside where everyone can see.

“Oh my God Dev, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m about to cum. Do you want it in your favorite place?” He says as I scream out “Yes” in reply.

I fall to my knees like a sinner who needs prayer, open my mouth to the heavens and wait for him to bless me. He releases an outpouring of his creaminess all over my face and mouth, as I devour every drop that hits my throat.

He moans as he shakes out every drop til he’s empty. I swallow the rest of him and what’s left of my pride as he kisses me in completion. My pants still around my ankles, he grips my ass holding me in place as he continues to kiss me softly.

I buckle his pants as he helps me with mine. I brush my hand across his face and we embrace each other knowing that he has to go.

“Goodbye Brandon.” I kiss him on the cheek. He walks away silently. Staring back a few times before he’s out of my view.

I said last time would be the last time.

Happy Monday 💋

[downtownbunnybaby]

Firsts With Brandon DiCamillo

Brandon DiCamillo x G!N Reader!

Description: All your firsts with Dico. Fluff SFW.

A/N: Well, it's finally here! This is my first time writing in a while so sorry if it's kinda mid. Also why it took me forever to write. I really enjoyed writing this so send me more requests! ♥️

Hug:

You were up on Bam’s roof, skateboard in one hand and the other giving your friends below the finger. How did you end up in this situation? Bam was the one who did skating stunts, and Ryan was always the one jumping off a high place, but somehow, you managed to take both of their bits. The stunt involved you skating down the roof and landing on the ramp below. All while attempting to avoid breaking all your bones. 

“...and we’re rolling,” yelled Bam, panning the camera to Dico’s terrified yet slightly impressed face at your bravery. 

Well, there was no going back now. Cursing, you rapidly made your way down. Everything was going smoothly. You thought you’d make it, and so did your friends as they began to cheer. However, in true CKY fashion, you lost control of the board, launching yourself forward and crashing into the tree Bam had jumped onto countless times. You instinctually grabbed onto the jagged branches, trying your best to climb down but ultimately missing the final steps, which solidified your final slam on the ground. Dico was the first to run over. 

“Y/N, are you okay? Speak to me,” 

Your eyes were closed, and the throbbing at your temples made it strenuous to distinguish what was happening. 

“That was awesome, but I need you to open your eyes.” He sounded concerned at the fact you were unresponsive, besides the slight contort of your nose at the loud laughing and annoyingly bright sun. You finally opened your eyes, instantly laughing at your current state. 

“Bran, I’m okay. Just a few scratches and a little blood.” You laughed again at your poor attempt to conceal your pain. There were more than a few scratches and a little blood littering your body. Dico brought you in a tight embrace as he helped you to your feet, trying not to hurt you anymore. Despite the blood leaking from your cuts staining his shirt, he continued to hug you. 

“You’re never doing anything like that again.” He said, leading you into the house to patch you up. 

“Actually — I think they might have to,” It was Bam. “I don’t think I was recording.” 

Holding hands:

You were all in Bam’s living room, discussing possible skits and stunts to include in the next CKY video. You were distracted by the insanity unfolding in the room; Bam seeing how hard he could slap Raab, you subconsciously grabbed Dico’s hand, laughing at your best friend's antics. Dico instantly noticed, head snapping to the soft hands intertwined with his rough, calloused ones. He had been attempting to hold your hand all day but was afraid you wouldn't reciprocate the feeling. Yet, here you were. The casualty of holding each other’s shocks your surrounding friends. Groans and sounds of disgust surround the room. Confusion settles in at the reaction of your friends. Nothing gross had happened. As far as you could tell, Raab was still fully clothed, and no foul odor followed him. Looking around for the cause of their reactions, you ask, 

“What happened? Did Raab sh—” 

You’re interrupted by Bam making an exceptionally dramatic comment, 

“Ew! Why are you two holding hands?!” 

You bring your hand up to eye level. A slight heat paints your face at the realization that you’re holding the hand of your long-time crush. The embarrassment settles in as you try to pry your hand from Dico’s. However, his grip remains tight, flashing his signature smile, almost a reassurance, confirming that he feels the same way you do. Once again, sounds of disgust and an exaggerated gag from the drama queen Bam Margera fill the room. 

“Dunn, get me a bucket. I think I’m going to be sick.” 

First date:

Your first “date” was casual and felt like any other day in Westchester. It was a filming day for the new CKY video. The day consisted of shooting shopping cart stunts in several locations around town. The sun had set, and the group resided in a near-empty grocery store parking lot for the last skit of the day. Both you and Dico wore medieval costumes, wielding comically large swords. You and Dico sat on the pavement as Rake and Raab collected most of the shopping carts in the vicinity. 

Dico stood up as Rake and Raab returned with the carts. Putting on his best medieval British accent, he points his sword at you and back to the cart. 

“Y/N, would you do me the honors of accompanying me on my chariot to defend my kingdom?” Giggling at his impression, you attempt the same accent. 

“Sire DiCamillo it would be my honor.” 

Of course, yours would never be as good as his, but regardless, he laughs at your attempt as you both jump into the cart. He gives a goofy smile as Bam prepares to launch you into a nearby bush. 

Kiss:

Poor boy has wanted to kiss you for so long. Even when his feelings for you were nothing more than platonic, he always wondered what it would feel like to kiss you. So, when it happened, he was simply beaming. 

You two were alone for what seemed like the first time in all the years you had known him. No skateboard thrown angrily in the distance, no crashing sounds, and moans of pain following. It was just you, Dico, and your increasingly rapid beating heart. You had decided to go on a late-night drive. Typically all the boys would join you, but tonight you just wanted Dico. Along with the empty roads, he was your piece of sanity in an otherwise hectic life. Parking in an abandoned parking lot, turning the stereo off, you look at Dico. 

“Thanks for coming along,” He looked so pretty. The moon's light perfectly reflected on his face, highlighting his best features. You tried your best not to stare as he spoke. 

“Of course, Y/N,” Smiling softly, his gaze lingered on your lips. Despite your immense nervousness, you took the opportunity, leaning in and closing the gap between you two. The kiss is everything you expected, soft and sweet. You could feel his smile as you continued to kiss, placing your hands on his chest. God, you could get used to this. 

He intends to tell everyone after it happens. Unfortunately, Rake is the first victim. 

“Rake, did you know Y/N kissed me last night.” 

“For the hundredth time, yes. Please go tell someone else.” Although Rake is slightly annoyed by Dico constantly telling him you two kissed, he enjoys seeing his friend happy. Especially after having to hear him complain for years about your partners at the time and how you should be with him. Of course, when you meet the group at Bam’s house, they’re all mocking and imitating you and Dico kissing.  

Sleeping in the same bed / cuddling:

Being friends with the CKY crew meant constantly being over at each other's houses. If April was tired of your group's antics, your house became the designated filming or hangout site. Today had been a particularly long filming session, and as much as you loved being with your friends, it was late, and you were beyond tired. Overnight stays at your house were nothing new. It was common for several of the guys to crash on your couch or bedroom floor. Getting up from your spot on the floor between Dico and Raab, who were already dozing off, you excused yourself from the group. 

“How come Dico gets to sleep in your bed while we have to fight for your leftovers,” says Bam, whining as you offer your hand to Dico. 

Dico interjects before you can respond, “Because I’m Y/N’s favorite,” he said matter-of-factly, earning another whine from Bam. Laughing at the rest of the boys fighting for your guest bedroom and couch, you head upstairs. There was an underlying nervousness as you slowly got into bed. Of course, Dico had slept in your bed plenty of times, but this was different. Maybe it was because you were romantically involved now or how pretty he looked under your black duvet. His eyes fluttered, a dopey smile sneaking into a yawn, brushing the hair covering the side of your face as he kissed you goodnight. It felt so natural, your cheek pressed against his chest, his chin on your head, limbs intertwined. He held you tight enough to satisfy his desire to protect you in such a vulnerable state. 

“I wish we could stay like this forever, Bran,” Before he could respond, Ryan and Bam barged into your bedroom. 

“See Dunn. I told you they were being gross and cuddling. I’m Y/N’s favorite. Dico just happens to be better than me at cuddling.” 

@ckygetsjobs @spoookyberry

#so theres that #send me more requests please #brandon dico #dico cky #dico x reader #brandon dicamillo x reader #brandon dicamillo #jackass x reader #jackass headcanons #viva la bam #jackass #bam margera #jackass tumblr #cky news #cky crew #cky3 #cky #cky2k #chris raab #rake yohn #ryan dunn

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.10

Character: Brandon x male reader, Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Winx Saga

Warnings: None

Something pulled me out of the darkness a second time. A trembling hand, weak and yet somehow strong. My eyelids were heavy and difficult to open from sleep.

Even with my eyes open, I couldn't quite see who was pulling me out of the silent darkness. That time it hadn't apologized for pulling me in, almost as if my life was no longer in danger. But because I still feel this immense pain. I'm not so sure about that.

"Oh…my little sprout!“

That voice... I know that voice! A faint smile appeared on my lips as I realized who had pulled me out of the darkness a second time. "Grandpa!" I shouted as loud as I could, which wasn't loud at all, not even to my own ears.

"What did they do to you, little sprout?" He gently stroked my sunken cheeks. The magic - caged in my body - had burned away all the fat and muscle I once had. Now I'm only skin and bones. Barely alive. Everything hurts. Yet I could only smile.

I wanted to apologize to him. Not only because I let myself be brought down by a rookie specialist but mainly because I couldn't free myself.

 After all, it should've been an easy task for me.

But no sound came from my lips. Still, I couldn't move properly. The pain in my body is just too strong. Undeterred by that, Grandpa pulled me off the floor and finally heard another sound from me: a groan of pain. He slung one of my left arm over his shoulder and put his right arm around my waist. As he carries me out of the cell and into the damp hallway of this dungeon, he murmurs a few things so softly it's almost silent.

Breathing heavily, I could barely turn my head towards him. "Thank you... for... sending... him." I have a hard time speaking as I try to walk.

"What do you mean?" he asked without looking at me.

Confused, I attempted to stop walking, but Grandpa didn't want any of this, and to be honest. Because of my weak body, I can't do anything about it right now. So I could only follow his steps.

Without warning, I could feel condensed magic flowing around us like a raging river. I immediately realized what was about to happen. I clutched the old man's clothed arm with all my might, but he didn't care. 

Before I knew it, we were in a different place: the walls of that space were built of sandstone and red terracotta. The stones look smooth, flawless even. But even in my current circumstances, I needed to suppress the urge to touch these stones to feel their inviting, clean exterior. Desperately I want to confirm my belief that their interior matches the feeling I get just by looking at those stones. Small lamps emitting a soft blue light hang from some reddish-brownish terracotta stones.

As I looked around, I could feel a burning gaze on me. I slowly turn around and see the usual cold eyes looking at me with a warmth I haven't seen in a long time. He opens his mouth to speak. Even though I don't expect anything from him anymore, he might still love me as he did when I was a kid. Still, I could never forgive for what he's done to me since then.

Almost as if he could see my thoughts, his face twisted in annoyance, and the happiness in his eyes quickly faded. Even though I tried really hard to hide it, I couldn't help but show some of the anger I still have and always harbor for him on my face.

Disappointed, he turned his gaze to the high white oak door that blocked our way into the next room. In front of it, two high-ranking specialists stand guard, holding their weapons high, denying us entry. But knowing my grandfather, he doesn't care about such pathetic attempts to hold him back.

Before either the two specialists or I knew it, the old man at my side cast his magic, making even me feel heavy from the sudden air pressure. Fairy dust glittered in the pale lamplight of the hallway. None of the specialists could do anything because of the might of his magic.

My eyes start to shine. Would I ever be as strong as my grandfather? But asking myself such a question already feels wrong. Yes, Grandfather is strong, but he's not the strongest fairy or magic user. With the correct training, I surely will overtake him in strength within only a few years.

With only his eyes gleaming, two massive stone pillars suddenly emerged from the ground, crashing straight into the chests of the two poor specialists, shattering the white oak doors as if they weren't mighty pieces of enchanted wood. Under the intense pressure of the stones and the magic behind them, the door shattered into a thousand pieces, breaking the enchantments on the wood. The door was ripped from the doorframe but holding the middle intact. In doing so, the door became a sort of shield, preventing the two men from being severely injured or, even worse, being thrown out of the wide windows on the other side of the now-open space.

Before the door was fully ripped from its brackets, Grandpa started walking, dragging me with him.

And as soon as the door was gone, we were already standing in the vast room. From floor to ceiling, everything in the room is made of the finest materials, from light wood floors to white marble columns and black ceiling tiles. But the most valuable item is the white oak desk at which an old man is standing. If Grandpa wasn't a fairy, I assume they would be the same age. After all, it is well known that mages age much more slowly than other mortals.

"What is the meaning of this?" he called out. In his left hand, he holds a staff made of walnut wood - it is easy to identify by the color alone. There is an angry expression on his face. I couldn't be mad about that. After all, we broke down his office doors. But why his pale blue eyes were filled with fearful anger is a mystery to me.

His appearance changed once the dust settled. My grandfather's own anger was more than visible on his face. "Why, how nice to see you too...Saladin." In my grandfather's voice is so much malice that it's easy to see that he and the other old man - whose name I now know is Saladin - share a past. But what's frightening even to me is the obvious anger lurking deep in his heart that could quickly become very dangerous, but Grandpa was still trying desperately to conceal it. But what could upset my grandfather so much that he still harbors such anger at the other man after so long?

"What-what are you doing here?" The other man, whom my grandfather called Saladin, asked him with a strange familiarity, unlike any other person that has ever talked to my embittered grandfather. As long as I can remember, no one has dared not to address him by his title. For some reason, the apparent disrespect doesn't seem to bother my proud grandfather too much.

Instead, he scoffed dismissively, moving his hand, conjuring a gust of wind that brushed the other man. Suddenly a magical shield extended from his staff, protecting him. For a moment, a spark of anger flitted across Grandfather's eyes. Fully pissed off that the other man could wipe away his magic so...effortlessly.

Suddenly, a whirl of fire surrounded the man's shield, taking me by surprise. Since when can Grandfather use so much elemental magic?

However, before I could ask, the other man released a magical wave himself. Extinguishing the fire immediately. "I don't know what's going on, Bal, but...I'm sure we can talk about it."

I winced slightly at the mention of my grandfather's nickname because - as far as I know - since grandmother's death, he has forbidden anyone to use it.

It made him so angry that he let go of me and even pushed me slightly back, only to explode completely. Broad wings appeared from its back. To be honest, it shocks me. He drew so much magical energy from his body and surroundings that the air felt strange and was much harder to breathe.

His royal attire vanished and was replaced by full plate armor, even with his "Black Sage" in hand, a sword forged from the black volcano of Balvenhem, engraved with ancient fairy runes long before our family was born. It is an heirloom that is so old it can be traced back to the first of our name, gifted by the Fairy Empress herself.

On the other hand, I have never seen this sword in person before, so my astonishment cannot be explained. As far as I know, while this sword is powerful enough to destroy entire cities: it also has many ill side effects.

So, why would my unstable grandfather use something like this?

But he got so pissed off about what happened to me that his own life essence seems no longer significant to him. Could he really care about me? At least, at the moment, it looks like it.

With the might of the sword, he pushed the other man across the room. Saladin tried desperately to escape my grandfather's grasp as best he could. Getting hit by the sword would mean his end. He seems to know this just as much as I and grandfather do.

Their fight looked like a dance as they walked across the vast space. Somehow they do all of this around me. The only thing I could feel from their fight was air breezing harshly against me.

Neither of them spoke a single word the whole time. Not even when the shield finally broke. Immediately Grandfather's sword collided with Saladin's strange staff. Quickly I duck away, arms protecting my head. I must never have seen the destructive force to know how powerful it is from the stories of those who fought at his side. Slowly but fearfully, I opened one eye after hearing nothing. Seeing no destruction in my limited field of vision, I slowly opened my other eye and removed my arms. Our family sword and Saladin's staff clashed, but nothing happened. Strangely, his staff was still intact, and no newly created canyon stood in Grandfather's way.

Saladin's eyes showed only fear, while my grandfathers were filled with the great hatred I have ever seen. They’re so close that they could easily reach out to each other with their secondary hands, but they didn't.

Just as I was about to ask what's going on, they both jumped back. Grandfather transformed again as he strolled back to me, stabilizing my unstable stance.

"My grandson here." He slightly shook me by my shoulders as he said that. "Nearly died in your dungeon, bound in magic-suppressing chains!"

"What are you talking about? The only magician in the dungeon was released days ago!" Saladin replied angrily, clenching his teeth. I winced in fear, knowing - for a fact - that I was the only magic user down there.

Once again, my grandfather scoffed at the idiocy of that other old man. "No," he said with the utmost conviction. "There wasn't a magician down there in months! I went there to rescue my half-dead grandson, you old fool!"

Annoyed, Saladin waved his staff back and forth but stopped as soon as the familiar fairy dust covered the air again. "If this is your grandson," he began to think aloud, "and he was the one who was taken away in Alfea, then..." It was like a magical light finally went on in his head. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.

"Your incompetent people haven't imprisoned a mage who doesn't mind being bound with magical chains. But the next generation of our world guardian fairy, the only naturally born magical fairy in two generations, and most importantly, the crown prince of my homeworld!

Grandfather didn't need to utter a single threat, for the darkness of the situation had already taken hold of Saladin. Suddenly all arrogance had vanished from the old man's face, replaced by an embarrassed expression.

"I-I-How? I had no idea,” Saladin finally admitted. "I really thought he was already released and just a mage."

When Grandfather heard this, he became even angrier. "Why are we paying to keep this school active when something like this can happen?" Did you even try to visit him down there? To make sure he was okay? You're the only mage in this school!"

He looked away, almost like a kid caught trying to steal cookies. Therefore answering grandfather's question without a word. "There was too much to do," Saladin mumbled lowly.

Grandpa became enraged. Only seconds later, the building began to tremble under the immense magical energy emanating from him. It frightened Saladin so much that he begged for forgiveness. But Grandpa didn't want to hear about it. "That's what's going to happen next. My grandson's needs will be fully catered to until he's his old self again. I don't care how long this will take. In addition, a thorough investigation will be launched by my own people. Anyone involved in this attempt to kill the heir to my throne will not be tried but stoned to death on our homeworld. And he'll be taken back to the Alfea afterward to -"

"Grandpa!" I finally found my voice again. The old man immediately turned his head towards me, forgetting that he had just spoken. “Director Saladin knew nothing about it. I tend to believe him. And I don't need anyone to care for me. I can do that myself."

“Can you for once-“

I finally turn to him, shaking my head. "Grandpa, that's enough! You don't have to pretend out of nowhere that you care about my well-being. We both know you don't care about me." My words seemed to hit him harder than I thought. His worried expression slowly turned sad. But I ignored it because what should I be thinking at this point?

"We can train him here," Saladin suddenly offered.

I would have laughed at that if I had enough energy flowing in my body. This school couldn't teach me much, considering the battlefield has been my home for the last few years.

Grandfather also seemed annoyed at the offer, rolling his eyes and even running his right hand through his full, white hair, a common sign in our family that our patience is very low.

Saladin seems to know that too. "Of course, under fairy guidance," he tried to soothe his visible anger. "While I need to admit I would have thought your grandson would be a specialist, like his father, I believe you when you say he is indeed your heir in every way.”

At this point, it's painfully obvious that he knew Grandpa was a fairy long beforehand and wasn't even surprised when he transformed into his fighting form. "There's nothing here you can teach my grandson," Grandpa said matter-of-factly. "He is already a war hero, fighting both of our enemies, leading armies, and strategizing with men far older and more experienced than he was. And even under a fairy's guidance, he must know more about magic.” There was a pause for a second. "Maybe I should just open another school," Grandpa said suddenly, shocking both Saladin and me. „After this catastrophic failure, maybe the next generations need a more… competent education.“ 

"But there's not enough space here... or do you think... No, you can't mean what I think you mean, can you?" Saladin's demeanor changed instantly, a sense of dread taking hold of him.

“Of course," Grandfather told him with a smug smile. "The old wizard school is already owned by us, considering we built and enchanted it many years ago when there were only a few mages in the entire magical dimensions. It would be a beautiful place for a new school.“ The smugness - now audible in his voice - made me involuntarily roll my eyes.

"You can't do that!" Saladin stood his ground adamantly. "Not after what happened there so many years ago..." For a moment, it seemed like he was lost deep in an old memory. But he quickly shook his head again, showing he was still with us.

"But it was right of you and Faragonda to lock up an innocent boy that neither of you gave even a chance to explain himself?" Yes, I spoke to her before coming here after my second eldest grandson finally told me he couldn't reach his elder brother and my heir anymore!" For a second, I stupidly believe that he still somewhat cares about me. But that couldn't be! Not after what happened. "I hope none of your grandchildren have to go through anything like this!"

"Both of you, stop!" I finally had enough of their pointless bickering, which sounded more like children than old, wise men. They stare at me, shocked at the power of my voice. To be honest? I'm shocked myself by this. However, I try to hide my surprise. "Nobody believes I'm a fairy, not even you, Saladin, even though my grandfather is right before you and vouches for me. So how about a bet?"

The old principal of the Red Fountain school wasn't sure what I was saying and looked back and forth between Grandpa and me. But he still bit my bait.

“A bet?“

"We're going to use the old mage school building for a month-long training camp for specialists and fairies. Both can learn a lot from each other-"

"And where does the bet come in?"

With a big smile, my warm eyes darkened as soon as the old man dared to interrupt me. "If you would have let me finish, you wouldn't have to ask now." I scold him. He stares at me and then at my grandfather, who I would think was just as bold as me when he was younger.

"To prove that this school can't teach me much, I'm willing to duel the best of your second-year specialists. And to prove that I am indeed a... fucking fairy, I'm willing to do the same to the first-year fairies at Alfea School. If I can prove both, I can choose which school I will attend, but on my own terms.”

A dense silence fell across the room, broken only by the moans of the two specialists slowly waking up from their injury-induced blackouts.

"What condition would that be?" he asked wisely.

But I could only smile. "Get the okay from the Principal of Alfea School, and I'll tell you both," I tell him with a shit-eating grin. "But right now, I really need some sleep and... plenty to eat."

Seeing my grandfather's menacing look, Saladin quickly called another pair of specialists into the room to escort him and me to the cafeteria. In there, nobody else could be seen. A panicked chef approached us and asked what he could do for me. The humble guy I am, I've given him a long list that will most likely make him sweat. The two specialists stare at me, slightly panicked and frightened, as more and more food disappears into the black hole that is my stomach.

Eventually, however, I finished and almost immediately got escorted to my temporary room. Far from everyone else, but close to the Headmaster, most likely to make sure no one tries to harm me again.

Grandpa, though, has another, better idea. Without further ado, he places several high-class protection spells on the room, the walls, and every place he can imagine. I'm not strong enough to destroy them, and he assures me Saladin wouldn't be able to either.

Maybe Faragonda, but she would not dare, at least in his words.

Feeling safe in my room, it only took moments for me to fall flat on my bed. I didn't want to fall asleep before my grandfather, yet I could no longer suppress my drowsiness. However, I soon set off again into the enticing darkness hoping for a good night's sleep. I could feel something odd on my forehead before sinking into a deep sleep.

[Masterlist]

#brandon #brandon x male reader #sky #sky x male reader #riven #riven x male reader #winx club #winx saga x male reader #Winx Saga #winx club x male reader #series #fairy prince

[2004videovixxxen]

i still think about you everyday.

i don’t know how you can’t think of me, every.. day. 

you were my whole life, my world, my safe space, my heart, my everything.. really. i see now that i took it all for granted. where the hell did i go wrong?

what is so wrong with me that everyone i’ve ever poured my heart into... leaves? sometimes i think i don’t deserve love, happiness. peace of mind, even.

i tell myself that with time i’ll be okay, but i don’t know how true that is. of course in the bigger picture of things i will *be okay* but i don’t know if i’ll ever fully heal from this. not only did i lose my partner, i lost my best friend. my heart was and is broken, twice. i’ll never meet another person like him. i’ll never be as vulnerable and comfortable with anyone like i was with him. this was 10+ years worth of getting to know someone and getting to their core. this was what i knew i wanted for the rest of my life. call me a fool but i still want it. 

i don’t know what he’s doing. i don’t know what he’s thinking about. i don’t know how he feels about me as a person anymore. i don’t think he cares if i live or die. i don’t want to think about it, but i do, every day. 

i yearn for us. 

yet.... i don’t think i could physically go after him the way i want to in my head, in my words, in my stories.. i don’t want to keep being rejected. i don’t want him to look at me as if i’m desperate. i don’t want him to see me as lesser than. he said that someone should be fighting for him... i want to be that person, but how do i do that without losing my dignity? fuck pride at this point... i will let my guard down entirely just to talk to him again. i miss his smile. i miss his laugh. i miss his touch. i miss the hour long rants. i miss the jig he would do randomly. i miss when he would look into my eyes and it would make me feel weird. i miss his smell. i miss the way his hair falls into his face, the way his skin feels. i miss the way he loved me. i miss the way he would hold me when i wasn’t feeling my best. i miss the way he encouraged me to go after everything i want. i miss laying next to him. i miss holding his hands and i don’t even like doing that. i miss massaging his scalp and tracing his body with my fingers. i miss cooking with him. i miss him trying to get me to dance but i always refused because i’m so awkward. i miss late night talks. i miss seeing him get excited about the things he loves. i miss listening to his music, i can’t anymore because i just get sad. i miss his kisses. i miss his hugs. i miss hearing about his days. i miss wearing his clothes and feeling like everything is okay. i miss that stupid little twin bed. i miss his aura. i miss his energy. i miss him so fucking much it still hurts me every fucking day. 

damn i’m so fucking dumb. 

damn ..... 

i miss you brandon, i hope you’re doing okay. i know you are because you’re resilient. you’ll always be okay and i’m happy for you, i’m proud of you for being brave. for being strong. you’re the best person i’ve ever had the chance to know. thank you for allowing me to be in your life. i pray for your happiness. i love you so much and i really always will. my first true love. my only true love.

#boys #sad thoughts #sadgirl #2023 #love #heartbreak

[shiningclown69]

~ A Watershed Moment ~

#briven #winx brandon #winx riven #artists on tumblr #my art #winx club #fanart #this was drawn in mid 2021 #I don’t like the way Brandon’s face and body look anymore #but I still like the background and tail #the background was so hellish to draw even with photo reference #I NEED to draw more backgrounds #anyway let brandon be a merman and riven be an elemental

[faithbetryin]

THE BATMAN x F!Reader

[ Warnings: smut, oral, rough, spanking ] 18+ only.

ib: @allaboardthereadingrailroad

The rain never seemed to cease in Gotham. Neither did the weekend parties. High class attendees. Wine tastings. Music. Generous tips in waiters’ pockets. Guests of all city departments, dressed in masquerade attire. Brandon Wright, CEO of Gotham’s Playboy, a filthy rich jock with filthy business ideas- it was his party. The top profiles were invited every year. Models, city members, actors, directors… All in one place for a crazed night of style. Appearances. At the bar full of laughter and champagne, were a pair of eyes that pierced through the holes of the intricate red mask into the crowd. They preyed on a well-respected gentleman in the crowd. He sensed it. And his chiseled jaw turned in your direction, his baby blue, complicated eyes spotting the target of his suspicion. Scraps of dark hair hung down the sides of his pale face, framing his features all too well. He was seemingly the only guest who didn’t dress for the occasion, but rather wore an off-black fine wool trench coat over a sleek grey dress shirt, the top two buttons spared of professionalism.

Through the many faces, you continue to stare him down, the polished glass rim of the wine glass in your hand now stained with red lipstick. As he approaches you, his presence dark and mysterious, you look away, robbing him of the chance to look you in the eyes up close. He stands in front of you now, a detailed glass in his hand. From the black heels with the red bottoms to the black leather corset around your body, his eyes take you in. His stare… You could feel it too. You don’t say anything, but rather look him right in the eyes from below his reach. Your eyelashes decorate your eyelids, complimenting your treasured eyes.

“I know who you are.” You say bluntly. There was no reason for you to glorify him. He just looks at you, his eyes looking for an angle, yet telling you so little. You were usually good at reading people. He doesn’t look away. It was almost intimidating. And he liked that feeling. Relished in it.

“And?” He asks, his voice void of much emotion. You aren’t sure why you like it. His posture is very straight, his neck curled downward to look at you. He’s tall. Obviously handsome. And rich.

“No one sees you much..” you say, tilting your head slightly. He takes that in, but gives you nothing to show for it. Not even a twitch of his brow. “Something caught your interest?”

It was true. No one hardly saw Bruce Wayne- opposite his late parents. They were quite popular, and wasted no chance to appear somewhere to boost the campaign or their family image. A party like this wasn’t something he’d attend as far as anyone invited here knows.

“No.”

The man had so much to say. Despite his answer, the way his eyes slid down your exposed collarbones said something else. Whatever he’s doing here, he’s bored. So are you.

The women’s bathroom was dressed for a princess, the wallpaper elegant, the sink counter marbled, and the faucets gold. The room was dark other than the low ambient red lights above the wall-sized mirror. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the faint bumping of the music from the party and the hot breaths taking up the whole space. It was empty, thanks to the expensive cash from Mr. Wayne’s pocket. You had about ten minutes. Against the marble counter, you had your back to the mirror as your catch had you pinned to it with his body alone. The trench coat rested on the counter beside you, his shirt soon to join it. You manage to slip your mouth away from his to catch your breath, your eyes hooded and staring off past him. His lips attack your neck instead, his teeth leaving hateful masks bruises on your skin. All pretty and soft, absent any flaws. Not anymore. You hiss at the feeling, one of his hands locked onto your hip while the other yanks down your corset top, freeing buoyant breasts he’s been craving. Your brows arch from the feeling of his fingers clutching one of your breasts, his mouth brutally claiming your nipple as his. Nobody ever told him no. He could have whatever he liked. No one opposed him.

Your hand gripping and groping his crotch has him confused. And he likes it. You squeeze to show your ruthlessness, his nostrils flaring slightly to release the subtlest sigh from the arousing feeling. “Don’t waste my time.” You order. That’s when he grabbed you by the soft of your hips and dragged you to the edge of the counter, flipping you around. You dart your eyes to the mirror, catching him staring right back at you. You hear his belt and trousers hit the floor, and then his even breaths by your ear.

“I’m not.”

You press your palms flat against the mirror itself as you feel his hips push against your ass with force. You let out a soft whimper of surprise at his eagerness. But it wasn’t eagerness at all. He knew it’d excite you, put a scare into you. You watch him lick his hand and then slide it between your bodies, his hand pushing past your panties to feel the drool of your heat. “You’re wet..” he mumbles as he rubs your clit and folds slowly. You want more. Now. You push yourself back into him, your eyes stuck on his in the mirror. He doesn’t look away.

“Take me,” you beg. That’s when your vision almost glows as you feel the sweet delicious burn of your walls stretching around his veiny cock. His breath hardly staggers by your ear as he frames you from behind. You drop your chin down as he hitches your knee up to the counter, opening you up more for him. He thrusts unforgivingly, each one like a drill with no off-switch. Your mewling has him pushing your ass down by the back of your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. You grip onto the faucet handles, your hair bouncing with each shove of him inside of you. You feel your ass numbing from how hard he slams his hips against it. But the sting of his hand coming down onto your cheek has you straightening your spine and letting out a squeak. He grips a fistful of your blushing cheek, thrusting unforgivably. He was going to ruin you. He likes it rough. Incredibly rough. “Fuck-“

He doesn’t moan. Not even a grunt. Just intense breaths that show no weakness. He’s a billionaire. He could do whatever he wants with you. And you were craving it. The slapping sounds in the empty bathroom fill your ears, your regal red mask not hiding enough. The mirror in front of you fogged with each heaving breath and moan. He must’ve liked the mystique. You felt numb inside, but each thrust awakening a spark more intense than the last. You feel your head throw back as he grabs a handful of your hair, pulling it towards him so he can see the sensitive parts of your throat in the mirror. He gets an idea. He lets go altogether and slides out of you with a faint pop. You eye him in the mirror while trying to catch your breath, your shoulders melting like jelly, your knees bent. He grabs you by your arm, hard, and turns you around, pushing you down to your knees. You get the idea quicker than you’d like to admit, your head against the marble counter, your pretty semi-masked face in front of his crotch. Seeing it made you shiver. Salivate. Pale like him with a swollen tip and veins like you’ve never seen. He holds your face and presses his strong thumbs against your jaw, prompting them open wider for his cock. You close your eyes at first as he enters your sweet mouth, taking in the taste and length of him. He hisses through his teeth, making you even more wet, your slick slowly trickling down your inner thigh. He lets you work him gently at first, but then grips the counter edge as he thrusts down into your throat. His tip clumsily hits the back of it, making you gag. But he liked it. He does it again, feeling himself stretch your vibrating nodes as you whimper. You grip onto his hips as he throat fucks you, your vision dark like your eyes shadowed by lust. You look up at him innocently, his pretty boy eyes looking right back down at you. He likes watching his length disappear in your mouth, your beautiful eyes water, and your nose starting to run. He doesn’t hold back, not until you swallow his meat at the back of your throat. He puts his hands against the mirror, leaning into your face that was trapped between the counter and his hips. He lets you be the driver for a while, his hips slowly easing forward, back and forth. The bottom of his dress shirt curtains your face, not letting you see him. Maybe he didn’t need to. He just needed to get some kind of release. Pain irked him every morning he woke up and anger flowed through him every night. You feel him bottom out, your nose against his lower navel. He hisses again, and this time, you hear a slight quiet groan and a grunt that matched each sudden thrust deep into your esophagus. He holds your jaw as his spend fills your throat, causing you to swallow every drop. You weren’t done sucking him dry until you felt him twitch and soften in your mouth.

“You do this often?” He asks with a low growl as he slides out of you, a trail of mucus still connecting you both. You swallow the salty masculine of him again and then lick your lips. His softening dick was stained with your red lipstick. He pulls up his trousers and works on buckling his belt, leaving you to do… whatever.

“A woman doesn’t kiss and tell.” You say, standing and turning around to look in the mirror. You notice the seam of your leather skirt was ripped. Before you can complain, he steps behind your back, his overwhelming presence tickling your ear and neck. He slides his hand down your arm to your hand, leaving your fingers around five one-hundred dollar bills.

“Get yourself something nice… for next time..” he mumbles, leaving you as he heads for the door. You shiver in place as you watch him in the mirror, turning around to see him adjust his attire and shrug on the trench coat. Next time?

“You don’t want to know my name?” You ask. He looks at you as he turns to the side slightly at the door, his eyes invisibly scanning you. From his lens, your name shows again like it did at the bar. *Y/N, L/N.*

“No.”

#the Batman #Batman #robert pattinson #battinson #Batman smut #smut #x reader #Batman x reader #the batman x reader #battinson x reader

[slvtbible]

girls need love

pairing: frat!harry x cheerleader!y/n

word count: 2500

summary: just a hot cocky frat boy harry who determines to show you a good time rather than your boyfriend

warning: alcohol and drug use, hints of smut, vulgar language

a/n: i've always been tempted to write frat!Harry for a while now but I don't want it to be a typical high school cliche kind of piece. I’m adding a few different spices to it. Enjoy!

*

*

*

y/n carefully zips up the short pink skirt she’s wearing for tonight. Straightening the skirt with her hands as she admires through the mirror how good the material looks on her figure. Topping it off with a white fitted crop top and crystal heels. She doubts herself for putting on too much effort for the party but her friends convinced her otherwise.

“You look fucking hot, not gonna lie” her best friend, Luna chimes while applying a lip gloss on her lips. Scanning y/n’s body. “Boys are gonna be all over you tonight!” she squeals excitedly, squeezing the tube back in her make up bag.

That causes y/n to roll her eyes. Boys this and boys that. As if she’s not dressing up tonight for herself. “I know what’s on your mind Luna but that isn’t going to happen. I’m just gonna there, drinking a few glass of Grey Goose or Jagermeister, smoke a few cigs and cuddle up with Brandon… hopefully”

Luna raises her eyebrow and exchanges looks with her other friend, Maria. Who has a ‘there she goes again’ look while brushing her jet black hair to remove unwanted knots.

“He’s a piece of shit. Why are you sticking around with him anyway?” Luna points bluntly, crossing her arms as she stares y/n from behind, who’s busy searching through her favorite pair of earrings.

“Exactly. He gives me bad vibes, y/n. He has a shitty reputation plus that boy only wants you for sex. I’m sorry to say that but we’re your friends and we’re only looking out for you.” Maria adds, putting her brush down before standing up from her dresser. “Jordan told me he’s bad news too.”

y/n sighs, attaching the golden hoop earrings as she hears her friends giving a lecture. “Appreciate it guys. But I can handle myself. If anything goes down south, you guys will be the first ones to know.” she smiles at both of them, messing with her thick long hair that falls above her hips.

The two seem quite unsure about it but let it slide anyway. Luna throws thumbs up to her way while Maria nods with a smile.

“Okay then” Luna says, slipping on her heels and grabbing her bag and car keys. “Come on ladies. I’m looking forward to getting hammered tonight. So y/n is driving” she gives a playful smile before tossing the keys towards her direction,

y/n laughs and shakes her head, easily grasping the keys as the three girls walk out.

As y/n arrives, there are already a few people on the outside. Drinking and making out shameless without any care in the world. The music is pumping loud even before she enters, which y/n can guess the fraternity is putting on Big Sean’s ‘Bounce Back’.

“Another typical frat party to attend. Quite getting tired of this shit.” y/n mumbles as she steps in, the two girls paying no attention to her while scanning over the crowded room.

It’s way too packed. She’s squeezing her way through a sea of sweaty bodies alone while Maria and Luna are looking for their boyfriends. y/n releases a breath of relief when she manages to get out of that. Finding herself standing in the middle of the kitchen.

“Baby! You made it!” She hears a deep voice from behind, spinning on her heels and finds her boyfriend, Brandon. A blue snapback place on top of his blonde hair. Hand gripping a red solo cup and eyes are slightly jaded. She assumes he has been smoking a lot of pot before she came here. “I’ve missed you so much” he mumbles, stepping closer towards her figure and pushes her towards his chest.

She gives a small laugh and hugs him back before pulling away slightly from his grip. Examining his red eyes and large pupils. “How much did you smoke tonight?” she asks straight away,

His hand gripping onto her waist, staring back at her as he shrugs. “Three or five? I don’t know. Why does it matter?” he sips on his alcohol,

“Just want you to be safe. Everytime you get high as a kite, you do something stupid.” she points out the obvious, her hands moving towards his shoulders quickly as he is about to fall. “And i bet this is not the second or the third glass you’re having” she firmly states,

“You’re right. It ain't. But I'm doing perfectly fine. Stop worrying” he says, hand moving down her ass and giving it a squeeze. “How about you and I go upstairs right now? Hm? Wanna fuck you so bad.” he utters against her neck

y/n resists the urge to roll her eyes at him, knowing it’s gonna make it worse. As a response, she shakes her head, moving his hand back to her hip. “Not while you’re like this. Take a breather, seriously. Drink some water” she suggests softly.

Brandon scoffs, lifting his head up and pushes her hands off his shoulders harshly causing her to widen her eyes. Mouth slightly agape at his harsh attitude.

“I didn’t make this party with my boys only for you to always bitch me around about how much I smoked or drank. It’s fucking annoying. Every time you walk in here, you’re always up to ruin my night.” he finishes the drink with a big gulp before chucking the empty cup down the floor. “Here’s a tip for you sweetheart, try to have some fun alright? Don’t come back until you’re ready for me to blow your back out” he snaps, glaring at his girlfriend before turning away to blend with the crowd again.

As she watches him leave, she sighs tiredly. Honestly, that wasn’t the first time she had ever seen him like this. She puts up with his nasty attitude and defends him in front of her own friends countless times because she believes deep down, he genuinely cares about her. When he’s sober, of course.

Because despite everything, he’s 100% different when he’s sober,

Well… okay, not really. She doesn’t know which one is true anymore.

y/n brushes of his attitude quickly and heads towards the fridge. Grabbing herself a can of beer before getting herself completely drunk tonight.

“Perhaps i should listen to Luna more” she mumbles, tasting the cold liquid as she sips it. Leaning her front against the counter, her elbows resting on top of the tiles. Observing the party while bobbing her head slowly to the music.

“That was extremely painful to watch”

She turns her head to where the voice comes from. Seeing Harry Styles, another member of the fraternity leaning against the doorway. His arms crossed causing his muscles to bulge out a little, he’s dressed in his usual attire. A white v neck and blue flannel with the sleeves roll up to his elbows. Chocolate curls tucked into a green snapback that he props on backwards along with dark skinny jeans he put on.

He shoots her a flirty smirk, causing his dimples to pop out. Pushing himself off the wall before walking towards her figure.

“Harry.” she speaks out his name, faking a smile when she watches him getting closer. “Surprised not to see you exchanging saliva with a girl in the corner of the room… like usual” she says sarcastically, moving her gaze back forward and taking a couple sip of the beer.

Harry winces playfully, pressing his hand to his heart pretending to get hurt by it. “Ouch princess” he leans sideways against the counter, propping his elbow on top as he laces his fingers, staring down at her who’s too busy looking away. “Always come up with horrible assumptions every time you see me. Never did once hear you say something nice”

She rolls her eyes, now glancing up to him who’s smirk never leaves his face. His lower lip taking in between his teeth. “Everybody knows you’re a player, Harry. What’s the nicest shit you could possibly gain from that?” she questions, eyebrows furrowing as she tilts her head back.

“At least I never humiliate you in front of people. You know i’m right” he shrugs, referring to what Brandon did earlier as he clicks his tongue against his teeth.

“What do you want, Harry?” she sighs, clearly showing she’s not in the mood to play tonight. “Can’t you see i’m busy?”

He chuckles, scratching his nose with his thumb. “Busy as in, isolating yourself from the party with a beer on your hand?” his finger points at the can, making her drop the can quickly. “Thought so. I'm here to keep you company.”

She can’t help but exhale a laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t act like I'm a damsel in distress. I don’t need a company. I’m pretty much capable on my own.”

“Again, you’re breaking my heart. By rejecting me.” he jokes, eyebrows raising as she watches him in amusement. “A guy wanting to have a chat with a pretty girl at the party isn’t allowed? Are there any policies about that?”

Her heart flutters a bit when he calls her pretty. Yeah, okay she does think Harry is hot. Like, really really hot. Who doesn’t think so? With that charming smile and seemingly soft curls that makes her go crazy a little bit. The vice captain of the football team that has every girl on campus swooning over, making it easy for him to flirt with a girl way into her panties.

“I’m flattered, truly I am. But flirting won’t get you anywhere Mister.” she tsks, wiggling her finger at him. “Especially flirting with a girl who already has a boyfriend. Another bad image for you, Styles.” she mutters, watching him chuckle with his green eyes staring back at hers.

“I am very much aware that you’re taken. But come on, harmless flirting? You’re gonna snitch on me? To him?” he asks, moving closer to leave a small space between them,

y/n takes a sharp breath as she feels how close they are right now. Clearing her throat and regaining her posture. “I might” she plays along, biting down onto her lip,

She sees how his eyes flicker down to her mouth, puffing out a deep breath from. Finding it hard to remove his gaze from her soft plump lips.

“You’re making it harder for me now” he mumbles, grabbing a cup filled vodka before chugging it down his throat. “I’m blaming it on you.”

“Harder to what, exactly?” she curiously asks,

“To not want you.” He replies bluntly, his flirty tone changes into a deeper one. Eyes lusting over her face and down to her body.

She feels herself swallow a lump on her throat, crossing her arms as his back leans against the table now. Eyes never leaving hers.

“That’s not the right thing to say to your best friend’s girlfriend.” she slowly stands in front of him now, hands on her back. “What happens if he heard you? You don’t want that.”

“I’ll take my chances” He smirks, putting the empty cup down. Standing up straight as his palms firmly plants on the table. “Besides, Brandon is way too drunk to care right now, princess. He’s fucking shitfaced.”

She giggles, nodding to herself. “Don’t need to see it for myself, I know you’re telling the truth.”

“He treats you like shit. Do you know that? Or are you on that ‘blinded by love’ stage at the moment” he queries in a serious tone. Searching for an answer on her face.

With a sigh, she nods. “I’m aware. I just. . . don’t like being alone. Seems like every cheerleader must have a frat boyfriend, kind of like a thing somehow. I don’t wanna miss out” Honestly, she sounds quite stupid with the reason she’s giving him but it’s actually the half truth.

He looks at her quizzically, finding it hard to believe every word she said. “You’re making no sense. Brandon maybe my best mate but he’s still a fucking asshole” he responds, standing up straight, looking down at her. “I fucked girls, yeah. But not as many as you thought and certainly not as heartless as you thought, y/n. Believe me.”

She feels her knees weaken when his lips are inches away from hers. Pressing down her lips as her eyes look over his shoulder.

“I can treat you better.” her eyes bug out at his confession. “Been watching you over the past couple years and goddamn it y/n, you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not to mention, sweet and smartt.” his fingers softly tucking a hair behind her ear. Grazing his knuckles gently against her bare arm,

“I can fuck you better too” his voice fills with lust, hand moving down to grab her hip gently. Thumbing the material of her skirt. “I know you’ve been thinking about me. Your sneaky glances aren’t exactly sneaky at all, baby” he whispers.

y/n already knows how wrong it is to be in this position. With his hand gripping her hip and her not halting his actions. Brandon might be the biggest ass she has ever encountered, but that doesn’t mean she’ll cheat on him. Despite how bad she wants it from Harry, she needs to stop. Yet she doesn’t. Why?

Because she actually wants this as bad.

“Is that a promise?” she flirts, flickering her stare back at him. Brown eyes glinting with desire and lust. Feeling his hand moves towards her cheek, cupping it gently as his thumb brushes against her light glossed lip. “Would be a shame if you’re nothing but an all talk, Harry”

The way she rolls his name off his tongue is causing his cock to twitch in excitement. Especially with that sexy stare she’s giving him, eyes wide and a naughty smile on her beautiful face saying how she’s ready to give it all to him.

‘Fuck you Brandon, your girl mine now.’ he thinks to himself cockily,

“Oh I promise you, darling.” he speaks slowly, pulling her close against his chest. “By the end of the night. The only name you’re going to remember is mine.”

He speaks so confidently and that causes her thighs to squeeze together as she feels her panties to slightly dampen. The sexual desire in her begins to grow even more, and she knows he feels the same way.

“I like the way you talk” she tells him, soft fingers running up and down his heavily tattooed arm.

He gives her a large wicked grin, leaning down a bit to brush his lips against her ear and whispers, “I want you to go upstairs and stay inside my room. You know which one. I expect your clothes are already on the floor once I get there. I’ll be up in fifteen.” he pecks her soft cheek, hearing her let out a soft whimper.

“I’m gonna wreck you tonight, darling.”

*

*

this is short i apologize but tell me if you want part 2 to this! hope you all liked it!

#harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles au #harry styles imagines #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #frat!harry #frat!harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfictions

[rivensmusa]

Too much green

Rivusa Revolution- Day 2: Jealousy

Fandome: Winx Club

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Musa & Riven

Time: s2e03

We all know the moment when in season 2 Riven goes to comfort Musa, who is worried about their friends. But we rarely talk about that brief scene of jealousy when Musa learns that Layla will be riding with Riven on his hover bike. So I decided to look at the scene a little closer and describe Musa's feelings.

Here you go:

Musa was sitting in the middle of a bench between Flora and Tecna. She heard Headmistress Faragonda saying something to Layla and the other girls going on the mission. But the music fairy's thoughts were somewhere completely elsewhere.

She was still thinking about the scene from less than an hour ago when she had almost killed all her friends and herself using her powers. Thankfully, it was only a simulation. But Musa still felt terrible about it. The experience was like a bucket of cold water for her. She had never thought about the danger her powers could bring before.

Musa was a really strict student. Together with Flora, they had the best grades in their class. And what did all that knowledge give them?

Both were not chosen for the mission.

In Flora's case, her powers simply didn't work. Musa's powers, on the other hand, were a danger to others.

The music fairy realized how much she still had to learn. She was sure there was a way she could use her sound powers in the cave without causing a catastrophe at the same time. She just didn't know it yet...

"...A small group can move quickly and are much less noticeable."

"And besides, they don't go alone."

A new voice snapped Musa out of her thoughts. She turned her head and spotted Saladin, the headmaster of the Red Fountain. Where he had come from, Musa had no idea.

And just then, she heard the sound of hover bikes coming. Three Specialists rode onto the Alfea campus and parked their bikes right next to the benches where the Winx, Layla and the school principals were sitting.

"Yes! The Specialists!" said Stella to Bloom so loudly that everyone present could hear it.

Musa took a better look at the three boys who had just joined them. By the colour of their helmets and their body silhouettes, she guessed who they were.

"That's not fair," she complained, "they don't even have powers!"

"Which means," explained Faragonda, "that they have no powers to lose."

"Last year, the boys took part in a survival course on unknown territory. Brandon and Sky got the best results, so I'm sure they can handle this mission."

Tecna began to comment that, by her calculations, the presence of those boys was unlikely to significantly affect the success of the mission and that Layla would have to play the role of the chaperone.

However, Musa's attention was focused on something else. As usual, whenever he was around (and also when he wasn't, though she tried to suppress it), her thoughts fled to the Specialist with maroon hair.

To begin with, she felt that Saladin's comment was unfair to Riven. After all, he was the one who had managed to escape Cloud Tower last year, survive in a rubbish dump surrounded by monsters, and build himself a weapon out of rubbish. Sky and Brandon may have had the best grades in that survival course, but it was Riven who was able to put that knowledge into practice.

And besides, she wondered what he was actually doing here if he wasn't supposed to be part of this mission. Not that she was complaining about his presence. Actually, she did care about it.

"Alright girls, are you ready?" asked Sky.

"Layla, you'll go along with Riven for now."

WHAT?!

Musa felt as if Saladin's words had slapped her in the face. She also felt that maybe, if she had better control of her powers, she could have gone with Riven. And not Layla... After all, she wasn't even an Alfea student! This was all so unfair!

Although, why did she care who Riven would ride on his bike? So what if it wasn't her? Whatever.

At some point, Riven turned his head and looked in the direction where Musa was sitting. Through the helmet he was still wearing, it was impossible to see exactly what he was looking at. But just to be safe, the music fairy quickly lowered her gaze so he couldn't see that she was staring at him.

Then Timmy arrived with their new ship, and they all began to prepare to leave. Stella gleefully threw herself towards her boyfriend and, with a confidence worthy of a princess, took her place on the hover bike right behind him. She put on her helmet and hugged Brandon tightly around the waist, announcing that she was ready to leave.

Musa continued to stand by the bench with her arms crossed over her chest.

This was all just not fair! She wanted to go with them too.

Of course, it was only because she was worried about her friends. Nothing else.

It had certainly nothing to do with the fact that she had once secretly dreamed of Riven taking her for a ride on his hover bike one day. After all, she had never imagined what it would be like to embrace him around the waist and feel his abs under her hands. She had never thought about the fact that it would be the perfect excuse to hug him. And that maybe then she would be close enough to finally recognize what the smell of his cologne reminded her of. No, she had never thought of anything like that!

And besides, sooner pigs would start to fly than this would ever happen.

Musa looked to the side, pretending to suddenly see something interesting there. She did so only to avoid watching as Layla would put her arms around Riven's waist.

She could feel herself getting hot inside. And if she didn't know better, she would think she was jealous. But that was absurd. She couldn't be jealous. After all, nothing was going on between her and Riven.

Yes, their relationship had slightly improved. But since the incident with Darcy last year, Musa had no feelings for him anymore. They were friends, that's all.

And that was still progress! For half of the last year, the music fairy had hated Riven with all her heart and wished him all the worst.

Therefore, it was certainly not jealousy she felt now.

"Come on," commanded Riven, "Get on."

"Who said you were going to drive?"

Suddenly everyone turned to look at Riven and Layla.

The girl clearly had no idea who she was talking to.

Confused, Riven also started looking around as if seeking confirmation that he hadn't misheard.

"What? You think I've never driven a motorbike before?"

Musa watched as the Specialist began to squeeze the handrails of his bike harder. She was sure he was about to explode and tell Layla that there was no way he would let her drive his beloved bike. This machine was probably his only love, so he wouldn't let a stranger, in addition, a fairy, drive it.

Suddenly his head turned towards Musa again. He still had his helmet on, so she couldn't see what he was looking at. But for some reason, she had a feeling as if he was looking straight at her.

Musa raised one eyebrow upwards. She wondered what that was the meaning of all of that and why Riven had not yet exploded.

This time the music fairy did not look away. For a brief moment, they looked at each other in silence. Or not. It was hard to tell through the helmet.

Eventually, Riven glanced back towards Layla and wordlessly gave up his driver's seat to her.

This was something Musa really hadn't expected.

Now, instead of seeing Layla embracing Riven, she saw how the Specialist grabs the Andros princess around the waist.

And before anyone had time to comment on it in any way, Layla started the motorbike and took off. Bloom and Stella threw in some more goodbyes, and a moment later, they were gone.

Why had Layla done this? What was her purpose?

Was it possible that she liked Riven?

He hadn't even taken off his helmet!!

And anyway, what did she care?

After all, Musa was no longer interested in Riven. She didn't care who he was with. If Layla liked him, go for it, girl! The coast was clear. They would definitely make a great couple!

Actually, they were indeed a good match for each other.

From what Musa had learned about Layla, she knew that she was strong and super laid back. She liked dancing and music just as much as Musa did! She didn't brag about her title, but she wasn't shy either. Musa really liked her. Not to mention that she was exceptionally beautiful.

So if Layla and Riven would start being a couple, she should be happy for them, right? After all, they were both her friends. And Layla was definitely a better choice than Darcy.

So why did Musa find it hard to breathe and feel pain in her heart at the very thought of it? Why?

After all, she didn't want to be with Riven anymore. He had hurt her badly last year.

She forgave him, but she no longer had any feelings for him. None at all! They weren't right for each other. She knew that now. Not to mention the fact that he was never interested in her anyway.

All that 'chemistry' that was between them last year was just a product of her vivid imagination. Her brain liked to pick up little moments in their interactions or in his behaviour and assign them excessive meanings or find excuses for his actions.

For example, the time he walked under their balcony during a break in the battle last year. Musa thought maybe he had come to talk to her and was just embarrassed to go upstairs. So she went down to him, but it turned out he was looking for Timmy, not her.

Or how today Riven looked at her for a moment before letting Layla drive his bike. Surely it didn't matter, a mere coincidence. Still, her brain was already starting to find some deeper meaning.

But the truth was that Riven didn't care about her at all.

"Come, my dear fairies. They will need our support."

Faragonda's words brought Musa back to earth. But the uncomfortable tightness in her chest didn't go away.

It was probably from fear for her friends. After all, seven of them had just flown to the Under Realm, where there no one knew what danger awaited them and whether they would make it back alive.

Because after all, she didn't feel that aching prickle in her heart because she was jealous.

Right?

If she was jealous, that would mean she still cared about him. And that would mean she'd only be disappointed again, and she'd have to face again the question of why she wasn't enough and why she even cared because he wasn't worth it after all.

And then she'd have to pull herself back together somehow. And that was just too hard. The mere thought of it made her loathe getting into any kind of romantic relationship.

So no. She wasn't jealous. She wasn't ready to be jealous.

Or was she?

#rivusa revolution 2021 #rivusa week #rivusa #musa x riven #riven and musa #winx club #winx musa #winx riven #winx fanfic #or was she? #jealousy

[nicolewoo]

Yo, Jamie!!! It’s almost done.

Pairing: King Roman Reigns X Female reader

Warnings: None

My average day was a controlled chaos. Everyone wanted an audience with the king, and I had to know what issues were pressing, which nobles I could and couldn’t talk to, and a million other details. All of these things weighed on me daily. Now, with my mother and the church pressing me to take a bride, I’d reached a breaking point.

 After I had yelled at a servant for no reason, Charles the Lord of Sussex and my most trusted advisor and friend, suggested we take a few hours to go riding this morning. He’d been right, too. A few hours away from the castle and the nobles was exactly what I needed.

 We’d tried to slip out before the sun rose so we could avoid anyone, but as we prepared to leave the grounds, the Captain of the Guard saw us. Christopher was a tall lanky man with almost no hair anymore and an unfortunate habit of rubbing his face when he was nervous. Now, as he insisted that the king should not ride un-escorted, his hand brushed over his face repeatedly.

 “Your highness, we have hundreds of nobles arriving this week. I’m afraid there will be more thieves in the forest. I’ve got plenty of guards on the road, but if you’ll be avoiding the road,” he eyed me suspiciously, knowing I never stayed on the road, “I insist you take a couple of guards.”

I begrudgingly agreed but told the guards to stay far back from us unless we encountered other people.

Charles and I enjoyed a very peaceful ride, stopping once for a cleansing swim in a river and to eat some bread and cheese Charles packed. “My friend, you’ve done me a great service today.” I said as I lounged shirtless on a patch of grass soaking in the sun.

 Charles cocked his head a bit as if surprised to hear a compliment. “It’s my pleasure, sire. You needed a break.”

 “I guess we should head back.” I admitted as I stood and finished getting dressed. Charles finished a minute before me and packed up the rest of the food. Once mounted on my horse, I hesitated to leave. “I wish I could do this every day, like we did when we were kids.”

 Charles smiled at me. “You were never destined to a life of leisure, Your Highness. God chose you to be a wise and fair king who is building a greater country and a greater world.” He whistled to the guards I’d forgotten were even with us, and they mounted their horses to follow us. “Besides, you’d be miserable if you lived a quiet, boring life.” We both laughed.

 Finding a slow trot, Charles and I continued talking, mostly about Charles’s sexual conquests. As a young, unmarried titled man, he had his choice of lovers in the court, and none of them ever kept his attention for more than a few months. Knowing I’d be married off one day in a probable political move, I’d chosen to be much less adventurous. I’d enjoyed the affections of a couple of women, but I never knew if it was because they liked me or the idea of becoming a queen. Now that I was king, I was too busy, too stressed, too careful. I noticed the ladies at court. There were a couple of fetching noble women, but none that sparked anything even close to passion.

 I knew it was time to marry. I wanted to get married, but for love. Instead, women from around the world were invading my castle, and I was to meet every single one of them in a week-long quest to find a wife. Not only would my attendance be necessary at every meal and every social occasion, I was to meet each potential candidate in person and in private (with a chaperone), a task I was dreading. Meeting after meeting of women throwing themselves at my feet trying to become the next queen.

 “Are you ok, highness?” Charles’s voice broke me out of my worry.

 “Just thinking about this week.” I admitted to him.

 Charles thought for a moment before talking. “I envy you. You’ll have your choice of women. If I were you, I’d bed whichever ones I wanted. You could have a wife and mistress by the end of the week.”

 Of course, he was excited about the prospect of more women at court. “My friend, I believe you’re going to bed many of them this week.” I chuckled.

 Charles laughed with me, “Not until Your Royal Highness has ruled them out as your future queen.”

 “Well then, I’ve finally found the worth of being a king. I don’t have to accept your discarded women.” I stopped my horse at a river so both of us could drink. Charles pulled up besides us and jumped off his horse too.

 Charles’s laugh rang out over the forest. “Would that be so bad?”

 “Your prowess is well known, and I’ve seen ladies after you’ve spent an evening with them. I’d be afraid I’d disappoint.” I said.

 Charles smiled shyly. “Sire, you know whomever you choose must be pure.”

 I laughed now, “Are there any pure women anymore?”

 “On my oath sire, I’ve tried to ensure there are no virgins in this country. That’s why we are importing new virgins from other countries to meet you.” Charles teased before becoming serious. “I have a great feeling about this week, sire. I honestly think you’ll meet a fetching young bride from some exotic country that needs an alliance with us and you’ll find some measure of joy in your marriage.”

 “An alliance?” I looked down in disappointment and patted my mare on the neck reassuringly. “I’m afraid that’s all my marriage will be about.”

 “I’m telling you sire,” Charles said as he bent low to fill his water skin, “I believe you will find someone who will give you a cordial marriage.”

 “Cordial? I guess love is too much to hope for.” I hopped back on my horse.

 Charles mounted his horse too and we began a slow trot through the woods. “That’s what the mistress is for.” I knew he was jesting, but the seriousness of the whole situation fell on me again as we rode.

 Why was I forbidden to marry for love? Why was I born to be king? “Let’s speak of other things. Our ride was supposed to distract me.”

  Charles was always quick to raise my spirits. “The delegation from the Arabian Peninsula is bringing you a dozen stallions when they arrive. It’s said their horses are the best.”

At my happy expression he continued. “As soon as they arrive, I’ll let you know. Maybe you can find a few free moments to go see them.”

That sounded great. “Thank you. Not just for letting me know when the horses arrive. Thank you  for today. I needed this.” Charles gave me a respectful nod as his answer. I inhaled the forest air, trying to etch the memory of it into my mind to carry me through this busy week.

“Care to race, Your Highness?” Charles challenged. I didn’t answer but tapped my horse’s side to gallop full speed. I heard Charle’s call of “Not fair.” As I took the lead. He caught up quickly and we raced for a long while.

Realizing I was only hastening my journey back to the castle and my royal obligations, I slowed us down again and we rode in silence for a few short minutes before we heard the ping of metal hitting metal.

“Let the guards go first” Charles suggested.

Metal on metal usually meant swords, so I agreed. I motioned to the guards, and they rode ahead of us for a minute. As we neared the top of a hill, one of the guards motioned that it was safe. I looked ahead and saw a carriage with a wheel off on the King’s Road. “Let’s go help.” I said to the guards.

Peter, a thin young guard with messy hair and a patchy beard answered. “Your Highness, I can take care of this.” He motioned to the younger guard next to him. “William can protect you on the way to the castle if you’d like.”

In that carriage was surely one of my potential brides coming to the castle to meet with me. Yes, I wanted to escape, but maybe I could sneak a peek. If she was fetching, it could go a long way to easing my fears. If she was unattractive, at least I’d be prepared for my meeting with her. I trotted closer to the guard and took in the whole scene in front of me.

Not only had the wheel fallen off; it was stuck under the now emptied carriage. The ladies in waiting and an elderly man I assumed was the driver were seated on a blanket off to the side while what seemed to be the lady of the carriage tried to lift the vehicle.

She’d managed to get a small log on a rock and was trying to pry the carriage up using her body weight. It wasn’t working, but from where I was standing, I got a full view of a truly amazing bottom swaying with her efforts. I was so amused, I pondered not offering her help just to see how she’d do.

 Just as I was about to speak, she defiantly stuck her chin out and looked around my guards locking her eyes on me. “Must I ask for assistance or will it be offered?” She spit the words out like weapons.

 She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, despite the dirt all over her and hair falling out of it’s restrains and trailing down her neck. Her dress was beautiful despite the oil and dirt covering it. It was wrecked though.  

 She dabbed at some sweat on her forehead with a ragged piece of cloth and ended up smearing dirt on her face.

 Charles leaned forward a bit, “It will do you well to watch your tone in front of...”

 I interrupted, “The Lord of Sussex.” I had stolen Charles’s title, and he gaped after me in confusion. I shot him a look that convinced him to keep quiet.

 She seemed more contrite now. “My apologies, My Lord.” She curtsied a bit.

 I smiled down at her. “Think nothing of it.” I looked at Charles now. “Mister Brandon, Shall we assist this damsel in distress?”

 Charles smiled. “Yes your Lordship.” We dismounted and handed the reigns of our horses to the elderly driver.

 We made short work of lifting and replacing the wheel. After a quick survey of the road, the guards found a missing bolt. With that in place, the carriage would be fine.  

 “Why have I not seen you in court?” I asked as I held the carriage still While Charles and the guards.

 She exhaled haughtily “I’m afraid I’m not very welcome at court, nor do I care to go to court.”

 I lifted my brow “And why is that my lady?” I tried to suppress a laugh. She was so direct, so plain-spoken, unlike most of the women at court. Court could probably do well to have some women with backbones like her. It would at least make court more interesting.

  “I have an unfortunate habit of telling the truth.” I laughed hnow. Seeing that I was genuinely amused, Charles relaxed and laughed too.

 “Well now, telling the truth is a virtue, even at court.” I smiled as Charles chuckled under his breath.

 “My Lord, I’ve seen many things in court, but virtue isn’t one of them.”

I leveled her with my gaze. “Are you saying The King lacks virtue?”

 I caught a brief glimpse of annoyance in her voice.  “I said nothing of the kind!”

 “Are you saying the courtiers are without virtue?” I asked.

She blanched when she realized that as a Lord, I could be a regular at the palace. “My apologies My Lord. No. I simply meant that matters of piety are not a priority to all who attend the court.”

 I glanced over at Charles who was laughing under his breath at her stubbornness.” This is a fun game and one I didn’t want to end just yet.

 “Well, gentle lady, would 2 non-virtuous gentlemen of The King’s Court offer their assistance to a lady in distress?” I asked as I gestured to her now repaired carriage.

 “I tell you truly, sirs, that many in His Magesty’s Court would not assist, but to serve their own purposes.”

 I walked a step closer to her in a show of power, but instead of looking away, she stared me straight in the eye defiantly. “And what, pray tell, do I have to gain from helping you today?”

 “My Lord, I didn’t mean any offence to you or your friend.” She nodded to our party. “You have indeed done me a great favor today.”

 Was she finally breaking? “And what have I asked in return?”

 She smiled now. She was breathtaking when she smiled.

 @mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire

[voidofwords]

hopelessly devoted

here’s a short wlw story i wrote! ngl i came up with everything, including the characters, as i went, but i ended up pretty happy with it!

Her grin is so bright when she looks at me. “Syd,” she says, beaming. “You won’t believe it!”

He said yes. I smile at her and tell the sinking feeling in my stomach to fuck off. “What?” I ask, with as much excitement as I can muster. 

Jasmine turns her phone screen towards me so I can see the messages between her and Brandon, but she’s waving the phone around excitedly and it’s impossible to even get a glimpse of what the messages say. Fortunately for me, and I would like my sarcasm here to be noted, she is kind enough to also tell me the news herself:

“He said yes!” She squeals, grabbing me by the arm and shaking my whole body. “Brandon said yes to go on a date with me! I’m going on a date with Brandon.”

For a moment, my brain is so fixated on the fact that Jasmine is touching my arm, it forgets how to do anything else. But I manage to kick it back into action and plaster on my most convincing I’m-so-happy-for-you-and-not-at-all-screaming-inside smile. “Jas, that’s great! That’s amazing!”

She nods eagerly, her deep brown eyes looking into mine. “You have to help me prepare for the date. I don’t even know what to wear!”

That actually makes me grin for real. “Come on, Jas, we both know you have way better style than me.”

She giggles and shakes her head. “Shut up, I love your whole, like, tomboy thing. Your style is amazing. But I just meant I want you there for emotional support.”

“Oh. Right.” Did Jasmine just tell me she loves my style? I am fighting so fucking hard to keep my brain from going into overdrive. I try to smile, but I think it’s more of a grimace. “Of course I’ll be there,” I tell her. “That’s what friends are for.” 

-

I don’t want to move. I don't want to get up. The alarm on my phone went off five minutes ago to let me know it was time to go to Jasmine’s house, but I think I might just lie here forever. What’s the point? She probably won’t even care if I come. She’ll be too fixated on her date with Brandon later to even notice if I’m there or not. 

Brandon is popular and has abs and is apparently super hot and charming - I don’t get it, but sure - and I’m just Syd, the tragic gay idiot, in love with my best friend. If this was a movie, Jasmine would be the main character. Of course she would. And I’d be the edgy queer-coded friend who’s mostly there for comic relief and emotional support. My life is a fucking joke. 

Because I might as well give the merciless gods watching my tragedy unfold something to laugh about, and because I’d be an asshole if I stood up my best friend right before her big date, I get up. There’s no point wallowing in my self-pity any more than necessary. 

Jasmine’s arms are around me the second she opens the door. It’s a signature Jasmine hug, tight and squeezy and enthusiastic, the kind that leaves me out of breath for more than one reason. 

“Syd! I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come.” She takes a step back and looks at me with her puppy-like eyes and I ask myself how the hell I’m going to get through today.

I shoot her what I hope looks like an apologetic smile. “Sorry. But I’m here!” I take in her worn-in sweatpants and oversized Mickey Mouse t-shirt. She still looks fucking amazing - this girl could literally wear anything and still look like a goddess - but I highly doubt this is what she’s planning on wearing for her date with Brandon. 

“I take it you haven’t found out what to wear yet,” I say. “Or is the date more of a Disney-themed pyjama party?” 

That makes her laugh. “No you silly goose! Brandon is taking me to dinner, and then to see a movie.” She takes my hand, and I freeze up as she pulls me inside the house and toward her room. “I need your input on what to wear.”

“You’d probably be better off without it, you know.” I smile as I imagine Brandon’s face if Jasmine showed up to their date in my battered jeans and too-big flannel. But I quickly chase the image away, because the thought of Jasmine wearing my clothes is too much to handle right now. 

Jasmine picks up two dresses from her bed and holds them both out to me. “Which one do you like the best?”

I have seen her in both of them before, but they’re usually what she wears around her older conservative family members, not when she is out having fun. Both of them are very modest, while still being pretty. 

“What happened to the other ones?” I ask, because I know her favourite dress is either the sleeveless floral one or the cute flowy one. 

Jasmine shrugs and smiles a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Brandon texted me saying he doesn’t want me wearing anything too revealing, since we’ll be out in public.” 

What the fuck. “Brandon is telling you what to wear?” 

“No. He’s just giving me some pointers on what not to wear!”

I stare at Jasmine, who is still smiling like she actually thinks this is fine. “Jasmine, that’s still shitty behavior. He doesn’t have the right to do that!” 

She shrugs again. “It’s fine. I don’t mind! It narrows down my choices, and you know it’s hard for me to decide what to wear. Besides, I like these dresses too!” 

“Jas.” I sigh. “Are you sure you wanna go out with this guy?”

Jasmine laughs, as if in disbelief. “What? Of course I do! It’s Brandon.” 

“I just…” I’m definitely overstepping here, but I can’t stop myself. “I don’t get what you see in him.” 

“Oh, well, you know. He’s handsome and funny and… popular and…” She trails off for a second before looking up at me. For once she isn’t smiling. “I just like him, okay? I’m sorry your standards are so impossibly high. I’ve never even seen you express interest in a guy!” 

Is she kidding me right now? “I don’t…” Now it’s my turn to be speechless. 

Jasmine sighs, like she is giving up on me, and picks up one of the dresses again. “I’ll just go with this one.”

I’m worried she will change in front of me like we did when we were younger, but she goes to the bathroom to change. Thank fuck; there’s only so much I can handle in one day. 

When she comes back out, her brilliant smile is back. Her eyes look a little red, but it’s impossible to tell if it’s because she has been crying. I open my mouth to say something but before I can, she spins around to show off her dress. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice.” It is nice, of course it is, that’s not the problem. The problem is, it isn’t the kind of thing I know Jasmine likes to wear. But this time, I don’t say anything.

She grabs a box of her nicest makeup stuff and sits on the bed. “Will you help me with my makeup?”

“You want my help with your makeup?” I let out a laugh. “Jas.” I know how to do makeup decently, but I never wear it, so I don’t have anything close to the kind of practice she has. 

“Syd.” She laughs too. “It’ll be fun! Just like old times!”

That is true. When we were kids, Jasmine used to “borrow” her mom’s makeup, and we would take turns making each other look “beautiful”. It was a disaster, but the best kind. 

“Alright,” I say. “But I hope Brandon won’t be upset when you show up to the date with lipstick smeared across your face like a clown.” 

I sit down on the bed with her and help her pick out what I think would look good with her dress. 

It goes smoothly, until I have to do her eyeliner.

“This is a bit tricky,” I say, moving closer. “Please don’t be mad if I do a bad job.”

“I’m sure you’re doing a great job, Syd.” She smiles with her eyes still closed. 

“Stop talking, I’m trying to concentrate.” 

By some miracle, I manage to make it look good and symmetrical. I’m actually kind of proud of myself. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

But I’m not prepared for when she actually does, and I realize how little space there suddenly is between us. 

Our faces are so close I can smell her minty breath. Her eyes are locked with mine, and I have officially forgotten how to breathe. I think time might have stopped, just for us. And then, she fucking looks at my lips. There’s no mistaking it. She is looking right at my lips, with her own slightly parted. 

And that’s when I make the stupid, idiotic, wonderful mistake of kissing her. Fucking hell, it may be a mistake but it’s the best one I’ve ever made. Her lips are so, so soft. Holy shit. Is this how I die? Am I actually going to die kissing Jasmine? I think I’m okay with that. I think that is how I want to go. 

But before I even have time to register what a bad idea this is, she breaks the kiss and moves away from me on the bed. She is staring at me with a mix of shock and betrayal. Well, shit. She reaches up to touch her lips, like she can’t quite believe they were actually touching mine just a moment before. “Why would you do that?” she whispers, her brown eyes as puppy-like as ever. Though this time, it’s more like a puppy that has been kicked by its owner. 

“I… I don’t know,” I choke out. “Fuck. Jasmine-”

She shakes her head and stands up abruptly. “I have to go.” Her voice is shaky. “My date is waiting.” 

-

Fuck this shit. Fuck the universe and fuck Brandon and most of all, fuck me and my lack of impulse control.

I have successfully ruined everything. Yay. Not only have i completely screwed up my relationship with my only real friend, I have also probably ruined her date with the guy she likes.

At this point, all I can do about it is go outside and touch some grass. There is an old park in our neighborhood that no one visits anymore, and it’s the perfect place if you want to be alone with your misery and self-loathing. I guess you could say I come here often. 

I sit down against the trunk of a tree and look up at the sky. It’s cloudy, but the kind of cloudy where the clouds look like bunnies and hearts and shit. I guess looking at clouds is a better use of my time than replaying the events of today over and over and hating myself more with every passing second. 

I don’t even know how much time passes but suddenly, I feel another person close to me. I start, convinced I’m about to be murdered or kidnapped, but when I turn, I see Jasmine. 

She sits down next to me and offers me a shaky smile. This time she definitely has been crying. She kinda still is. 

I don’t know whether I should say something, so I just sit there and look at her. She looks down at her own hands, and doesn’t speak for a long time. I’m about to open my own cursed mouth, when she finally speaks. 

“I’m so sorry, Syd.”

I stare at her, my brain not computing. “You’re sorry? What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was a total… a total dingus earlier!” If I didn’t feel so fucked right now, I would have smiled at Jasmine’s adorable inability to swear, maybe even gently teased her about it. But I don’t. I sit quietly as she continues: “I have been for years, haven’t I? Completely clueless.”

“What?” I don’t know what she is on about, but if she means clueless about my embarrassing crush on her, then yes, she has been. I can’t blame her, though. I mean, I did try to hide it, and for good reason. 

“I left the date with Brandon early.”

I feel like an ass for it, but I’m happy to hear that. Not because I’m naive enough to think it means anything for me, but because Brandon is such a punchable fucking idiot, and definitely not good enough for Jasmine. “Oh,” is what I say. “Did you not have a good time?”

She finally looks at me. “I left because of you, Syd.” 

Fuck. “Jasmine, I’m so fucking sorry. I never should’ve-”

“Stop,” she says, and I do. “I left because I realized you were right. I don’t like Brandon.” She lets out a shaky laugh. Her eyes are brimming with tears. “It probably shouldn’t have taken you kissing me to realize it, but… Yeah, well, I’m an idiot.”

My heart and brain seem to have made a collective decision to stop functioning. I stare at her, not sure if any of this is really happening. Maybe I’m misinterpreting what she is saying. Yeah, that seems like the only logical-

My half-panicked thoughts are cut off by Jasmine leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. She is still teary-eyed, but she is also smiling softly as she moves close enough that our shoulders are touching. “I don’t think I even like guys at all,” she whispers. “And… well. I’m pretty sure I like you. A lot.”

She is looking at me expectantly, but I am stunned into silence. My brain short-circuited long ago and left me useless and unable to do anything other than stare at her in disbelief. 

“Syd.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “Please say something, I am freaking out over here!”

“Shit. Yeah. Sorry.” I shake my head, slowly kicking myself back into action. “I like you a lot too. But I probably made that pretty obvious earlier, didn’t I?” I chuckle nervously, meeting her eyes. My heart is still going haywire, has been since she fucking kissed me. I don’t think I’ve fully processed that yet. “Sorry, this is… a lot.”

Jasmine grins. “Yeah, tell me about it. Twelve hours ago I thought I was the straightest person ever and that I liked Brandon? And now it turns out I’ve been a lesbian the whole time! God, that feels weird to say, but… Also like such a relief? Like part of me has known for way longer.” 

I almost don’t have the courage to do it, but I reach out and take her hand. Our fingers interlock. When she puts her head on my shoulder, I almost start to tense up, out of habit I guess, but I tell myself to relax. 

The moment feels so precious, so uniquely ours, that I’m afraid I’ll ruin it if I speak. So I close my eyes and savour the way Jasmine’s soft body is pressed against mine, and I pray that this moment never ends. 

#full discloser: halfway thru writing this i realized it has a lot of similarities to the series 'i am not okay with this' #i promise no similarities are intentional! #original writing #queer fiction #lgbt fiction #short story #lesbian #lesbians #lgbtq+ #writing #writeblr #queer #queer short story #comphet #wlw #i rly hope i didnt accidentally call brandon 'brad' somewhere in this asdfgh i did that while writing oops

[drakewalkerfantasy]

Consequences: Chapter 1

Synopsis: 

Jordan Williams is a former Marine who starts a new life joining Medical school at age of 27. 

Rachel Ferguson is a freshly out of college graduate and Medical school 1st year student. 

Two complete strangers who fell in bed together for a night of solace from their moment of anger and hurt. By chance, they were brought together and their fates intertwined. 

Not realising yet that not only they share the same house, they also share the person they cannot lose no matter what. 

What will happen when the reality of the one night’s actions filled with lust and anger will hit them both? What will happen when he will find out that the girl he spent the night with is not only his housemate but also his best friend’s little sister? The one he swore to himself never to touch, the one for whom he will never be good enough. Will he be able to keep his hands off her? Or are they doomed from the beginning?

Words: 3600

Authors notes: Some chapters maybe NSFW or have a mature content

Jordan Williams x Rachel Ferguson (Rae, Rae-Rae)

**Warnings: Alcohol consumption, anger, bad decisions in next chapter.*

Jordan Williams never was the one who scared easily, or backed out of his decision for that matter.

Former Marine, even though his parents didn’t support him or approve of it... the one of the few survivors of his platoon… The hero, who single handedly carried his friends out from the burning hell on Earth not knowing if they were dead or alive. Who by some miracle survived, but was left with the nightmares to remind him of how lucky or cursed he was, and with the ugly scars to never let him forget of the ones who weren’t as fortunate. Limping on his right leg, but at least breathing and moving.

And today even though he still wasn’t scared, he was nervous. This was the last Friday before he was starting his new life. No more deployments. No more deaths, at least not on his watch. And as many lives as he could save after he would learn how to do that. After he would become one of the best surgeons and open the clinic for the people like him, who would survive beating all odds. For Doctors without the borders who wouldn't be scared to help people in the burning hells... who will be ready and willing to help as many dying to survive, be it soldiers or civilians, something that he failed to do then. But damn him, if he wouldn't do it now, after he would learn how to do that.

And he was determined to learn how… nothing and no-one would stop him, that is what he swore to himself that day. That is what kept him going no matter how difficult it was.

Trying to block the nerves raking through him he gripped the steering wheel firmer trying not to think of the only thing that overshadowed his new beginning. Of the fact that the place that he found for the living, was already occupied, which meant that he would have a housemate, something that he was determined never to have. The main reason why no matter how hard his best friend tried to convince him to rent a house together, he did not succumb to his persuasion. Preferring solitude instead to the company. Not wanting anyone to see him at his lowest or to hear his screams during the nights, while he would wake up sweating from yet another nightmare night after night. And as a result of that he got himself in a situation in which he was now, fated to share the house with the person he even never met.

He huffed, driving toward the lonely standing house, someone’s car was already parked there. He looked around, leaving his car in a free space. Getting out of his SUV, Jordan went toward the house.

Getting inside, he noticed still packed boxes in the hall, but he couldn't hear or see anyone else, which meant that his housemate left without unpacking.

Typicall. He thought, walking further into the house, entering a living room he would be forced to share with someone else. He looked around the neat and cozy room, two armchairs were standing opposite the fireplace, the massive bookcase was located along one of the walls.

He was about to go and check the kitchen when he heard his phone calling. Taking it out, he checked the Caller’s ID before answering the call, listening for a familiar voice coming from his mobile.

“Hey, Jody.”

“Morning to you too, Brandon,” replied Jordan, putting his keys into the bowl and moving further into the kitchen.

“I take it, you finally get to your new place? Settled in okay? How is your new housemate? Still not regretting not moving in with me?” questioned Brandon in his carefree manner, as if he wasn’t on the verge of death no more than six month back after he would save Jordan's life, and in return Jordan saved his. His cheerful voice caused a surge of amazement through Jordan while he listened to his friend.

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” Jordan growled frowning after finally the questions stopped in that annoyingly abrupt manner he hated. “And yes, I already got to my new place but had no chance to settle in just yet. Answering your last question, I have no idea who my new housemate is as I can see only unopened boxes there. But I do hope that the person I share this place with is someone who will not interrupt my study or throw constant parties... Although based on the fact that instead of unpacking, this housemate just left… I guess I can say goodbye to that…”

“Yes, yes… Got it,” brushed him off Brandon. “About your studies. Even though I still don't know why you need it in the first place, you always could join the forces, but what I do know, is the fact that you need to unwind before it starts… let loose... have meaningless one-night fun... sometimes I really think you forget how to have fun spending all your free time buried in books,” said Brandon, making Jordan flinch at his choice of words. He could be buried… they both could be... as were most of the guys from their platoon.

Pale, bloodied faces appeared in front of his eyes. His hand is suddenly covered in blood right in front of his eyes… screams deafeningly loud dying on their lips twisted in agony, leaving only few of them alive, and if no one would come soon they would join their comrades, their friends… faster than they could finish the prayer…  not that either of them believed, not after what they have seen or could lose.

“What do you mean?” forced out Jordan, closing his eyes and letting out the slow breath. 

“I mean that you wouldn’t recognise fun and beauty even if she bumped into you... And you are coming with me to the party. I need a wingman, and you need to unwind. Hopefully with some cute girl, whose face you will forget the next morning,” chuckled Brandon, making Jordan frown moving his phone a bit further from his ear.

“Never,“ cut Jordan, shaking his head. He was done with partying or with women. Done… "You know I don’t do parties… not anymore.”

“Yes, but you also know I will not give up until you say yes. So let’s make it easier on both of us. Should we?,” laughed Brandon.

“I need to unpack my stuff, and it may take the whole day. Also, I need to go to the library to pick up some books for my studies as tomorrow the library will be closed. So this time you will need to manage this on your own.”

“If these are the only reasons then I don’t see any reason why not.”

“I told you, I will not have…,” Jordan tried to say.

“Nope, still cannot see why you wouldn’t have time for some fun. I will be at your place in twenty minutes and will help you unpack, and then we will pick up your books before crashing this party.”

“You will not give up… aren’t you?”

“Man, you should know by now that never.”

“Fine…” sighed Jordan exasperatedly, looking at his watch. “Be here in twenty minutes, but I will leave the party before 10 pm. Understood?”

“See you in twenty minutes,” replied Brandon, ending the call.

Almost an hour later Jordan finally heard a knock on the door. Grudgingly, he opened it, letting his best friend inside the house.

“You are late,” stated he, holding one of the boxes in his hands. The pain shot through his body, but he didn’t even flinch, still staring at his friend.

“Sorry, I met my new neighbours. Movers bailed on her and her little boy, so I helped her to carry boxes inside,” shrugged Brandon nonchalantly passing by Jordan feeling not even the slightest bit sorry for his delay.

Another hour later and unloading the last boxes that Jordan brought with him, they finally started to unpack them. And in another three hours, they were finally done.

All the stuff that Jordan took with him were put neatly to their places. The bookshelf in the living room stocked with books he brought, and a picture of him and his older sister was put above the fireplace. They both looked in satisfaction around the room putting the empty boxes into the storage place. Brandon patted Jordan on the back before going toward the door.

“So now, when we finally finished unpacking,” started his friend. His eyes widening, when he noticed how Jordan with displeasure looked on his new housemate’s still packed boxes. 

Quickly his friend marched back to him grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door, letting him only grab his keys on the way out. “Don’t you even dare to think about that. You are NOT touching your roomies’ stuff. Now…. let’s go to this place, where you need to be quiet and bore yourself to death or we will be late to the party.”

That word again… thought Jordan. The word that made him flinch every time, remembering the day of his friends’ deaths. Still blaming himself that he couldn’t have saved them all, didn't see approaching danger earlier and when he did it was already too late to warn guys as all hell broke loose just a second after he sensed the danger.

“Can you stop calling it that? And the library can be fun when you know what you are looking for,” he snapped, hoping his friend missed his reaction before they both exited the house, shutting the door behind.

It was already three o’clock when they rushed toward the library, trying to get on time before it was closed. After another ten minutes of arguing that Brandon should wait for him in the car instead of constantly complaining about the place or flirting with every single girl they would meet, Jordan ran up the stairs taking two steps at the time before disappearing behind the heavy doors. When he was about to round the corner, he felt someone bumping straight into him. The heavy books the person was carrying fell to the ground hitting his foot painfully. Making him swear under his breath, looking at the person in front of him with the frown.

“Haven’t you ever been taught that you need to look where you are going?” huffed Jordan in annoyance, crouching in front of the girl with the blonde hair and helping her to collect scattered books. “Next time, watch where you are going,” said he with a scowl on his face, shoving the books into her arms before looking at her for the first time. 

The girl looked at him with the wide open forest green eyes that looked somehow familiar, no matter how silly it may sound. He quickly raked his gaze over her, taking in every detail of her petite form, before hastily returning it back to her eyes. The tongue darted out running over her lips, making his gaze drop to them darkening just for a split second, while following the movement. Her rosy lips parted as if forming a reply, but he quickly shook himself out of his state and before she could utter even a word he raised to his feet and strolled into the library, leaving a startled stranger behind.

“What a jerk,” she mumbled, standing up with the help of her friends and adjusting her skirt.

“But he is a handsome jerk,” whistled an athletic-looking guy, watching after Jordan, throwing a hand over the blonde girl’s shoulder. “Isn’t he, Heath?”

“Ohhhh, yes. He is yummy, and that ass in low cut jeans,” moaned Heather turning to face her friend. “And did you see his lips? Rae-Rae, if I would bump into him… he wouldn’t leave… so easily,” said she with a wink.

“You two are just ridiculous... I hate you,” groaned Rachel, covering her face with books she was now holding in front of her. Her cheeks flamed. “Can you think of anything, but sex?”

Heather and Derek, the guy, who threw a hand over her shoulder, shared an incredulous look, before shaking their heads and answering in unison.

“Nope… never… And you love us, girl.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” frowned Rachel, raising her head to look at her friend.

“Yes, I do. And this is why I don’t try to get the boy myself. Also, because he is straight,” shrugged off Derek, with a wide smile.

“And how exactly do you know that?” questioned Rachel rolling her eyes.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” asked Derek, sharing another look with Heather, the plan already building in their heads.

“Okay, you two… drop it. I know this look, and you will not try to hook me up with him. He looked at me the same way as any other rich boy in town would look at me. He is a jerk and a snob. And I’m not interested. Besides you know I have a lot on my plate right now. So stop even thinking about this. Be thankful I even agreed to go to that party with you, because if my brother finds out I lied to him... He will kill you first for dragging me there and then lock me up until graduation... or death in solitude,” she mumbled quickly before taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. “And Derek, don’t you dare to forget that you promised me to do our dance. We need to practice.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll remember. I’m always up to show my new moves,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Okay, then let’s go. You know I need to change first and unpack my boxes before my housemate will arrive, which you also promised to do with me,” reminded Rachel, and they went to her house, laughing on their way there.

By the time the clock struck seven, Jordan went into a club hosting a party, scowling at the number of people there. His posture was stiff and on alert while he looked around. Ready to jump into an action at any time.

“Brandon, tell me again, why exactly did I agree to go with you?” said he in a loud voice, while trying to get through the crowd and not to lose his friend from the view, who already scanned the crowd for the distraction for the night.

“To have fun, plus I needed a wingman... Actually... scratch out the last one, I see a target at the bar, bored, single, challenging, redhead. Wingman not required,” Brandon said with a wink, when they finally got inside, instantly starting to move into the direction of the petite girl who captured his attention leaving Jordan behind.

He followed his friend with a glance before looking around the floor. His attention immediately drew to a dancing couple in the middle of the dance floor. Both moving as a whole to the sounds of Latin Music. The sensual dance attracted the drunken crowd closer to them, creating a commotion on the dance floor from enthusiastic screams and whistles. His brows furrowed instantly when he recognised the same pretty blonde girl he met earlier today. Her hair laid in soft waves. And he felt how his gaze unintentionally riveted to her, watching her every move, unable to tear his gaze away.

He watched how the guy led her into a low dip. His hand shifted to the small of her back when another traveled along her neck caressing her body as if they were in the confidentiality of the bedroom. His hand slowly reached for her knee making her stretch out her leg. A beautiful red dress flowed around her body, dancing around her petite frame like flames. At some point during the dance, she looked straight into his eyes, and he felt as if falling under her spell. Her soft forest green eyes were burning with fire, alighting something unexplored inside of him. Something that had died with his friends that day, something that they never will have and something that he will never deserve.

He could feel how his heart sped up beating as never before, and his breath elevated, from the beats of sultry music and the way her body moved in another man’s arms. Waves of golden hair refracted the lights of the club, and she moved, holding his gaze as though burning him alive from the inside. As if under the spell, Jordan moved closer to the dancers not even realising it until a buzzing of his mobile broke him out of his daze.

It seemed that eternity had passed when in reality it was only a splitting second, second that he would be not able to get out of his mind. He could feel the pounding of his heart increasing with impending anger as he looked at the caller’s ID, blinking once... twice at the phone clenched in his hand. Contemplating for a moment to just let it go to the voicemail. Not wanting or ready for another confrontation that was inevitably coming.

Deep down he knew that it wasn’t a solution and no matter how long he would avoid it his mother would find the way to get to him, so before he could think about that more he went outside of the club to take a call, not even sparing another glance to the dance floor... or to the girl who’s eyes looked so familiar.

“Mother,” he said, taking a call. “Sorry, I…,” he started, interrupted by his mother’s voice “No mother, I didn’t… I’m with Brandon… Yes, he is still my friend,” replied Jordan, trying to stay calm, while listening to his mother. His grip on the phone was getting firmer and firmer with every word she said, surprised that it didn't break in half by the time he had a chance to speak again. “Mother, no I still plan to study Medicine and not business,” said he, annoyed by yet another remark from his mother. “MOTHER,” he said, raising his voice and losing control just for a split second, before taking a deep calming breath and closing his eyes. “This is my life, and I have all the right to decide what I want or don’t want to do with it. Look what you've done to Leslie? Isn’t it enough…,” exasperatedly said he, only to be shut up by his mother once again. “Yes, mother,” he gritted through his clenched teeth, feeling how his blood started to boil again, wanting nothing more than to get drunk, and to get away as far as possible from his family as he did while he served in the Marine Corps, until he couldn't do that anymore.

His hand reached for his hip by instinct. The wound was deep enough to make him bleed to death on that ill fated day leaving him dead, but it didn’t happen... Instead it made him limp, but he could manage that. This he could hide from everyone with the prescribed medicine when the pain got to the point of unbearable and with the gritted teeth when he just wanted to limp, not caring if somebody will consider it a weakness. And it took him the hell of a lot of willpower to remember it. To remember that he cannot allow himself to be weak, couldn’t allow to show it. No one knew how bad it was... no one except Brandon, who was there for him after he saved his life. The only person who knew that if the bullet would have hit the inch higher or if the help would get there a little bit later Jordan would bleed to death. The only person to whom he told how bad it is and how much pain it causes him even now.

“No, I will not change my mind,” said he on autopilot before ending the phone call abruptly without listening to what else his mother wanted to say. After a moment, he finally shoved the phone back into the pocket of his dark blue jeans moving back into the club and walking toward the bar. 

The music has changed to something slower and sensual, and when he looked on the dance floor his eyes landed on the same tantalisingly beautiful stranger who was in the middle of the argument. 

He could see how some man grabbed her hand, but she jerked it from him and stormed toward the exit.

He huffed, downing one drink after another, not paying attention to what he was drinking, his eyes dropping back to the bar in front of him. His thoughts involuntarily returned to the girl, but he pushed them away. Frustrated and angry by the fact that he couldn’t get her out of his head for some inexplicable reason. Hurt and angry by the fact his mother managed to get under his skin once again.

By the time he was done and ready to leave the club, the anger boiling inside him reached the limit. Jordan rose abruptly, almost tripping over his feet, when the pain in his hip shot through his leg, making him curse under his breath, taking a moment to compose himself. 

He looked around, searching for Brandon, but couldn’t find him anywhere, so he typed him a quick message letting him know that he was heading back to his place. When he was just about to exit the club, he felt someone bump straight into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around the person’s shoulders, preventing them both from the fall.

Tagging: @choices-bound​ @lahelasaveiro​

#Book 1: Consequences #contemporary romance #Jordan Williams x Rachel Ferguson #Brandon Ferguson

[deer-knight]

I love asking questions about people lol, so sorry if this is really weird. Where'd you get the archery/sword experience? Have you been backpacking? If so, where's your favorite place you've been? Some of you favorite books/authors? What's your favorite part about teaching/working with kids?

alright, i wanna honor these questions with proper responses, so i’ll just tag this as a long post and y’all can deal with it :P i’ve bolded the different questions so you can read whatever you’re interested in.  ARCHERY: i started fashioning self-bows and arrows in my parents backyard (which was just about 3 acres) when i was 11, just going on what i knew bows and arrows to look like. i shot at trees and rocks and i’d do it for hours and hours after school. my parents are strongly anti-weapons and the only reason i ever got into archery beyond my backyard bows was because of my grandfather, who gifted me a longbow for my 13th birthday and brought me for a few lessons with a junior olympic coach he happened to know. then armed with some proper equipment and a couple of lessons the rest of it was just practicing in the backyard at primarily self-made targets of foam and cardboard.

and i practiced religiously. nearly every day, for at least an hour or two, i’d be out there. i briefly joined an archery range the following year, and nearly outshot everyone at the first tournament, despite being the only one under the age of 30, which i am proud of to this day. 

i continued my practice and love of archery up through high school and uni, but gradually fell out of consistent practice just cause i no longer had the space once i moved out of my parents place. i’ve taught archery for girl scouts and now teach primarily primitive archery at work. so in essence, i’ve come full circle - back to self-bows and shooting at trees in the woods.

SWORDPLAY: most of my swordplay experience is from modern olympic foil fencing, which i did from age 13/14 to about halfway through uni, which is when i discovered sca rapier fighting. somehow i managed to convince my parents it wasn’t at all dangerous or violent (which it technically isn’t - it’s really quite tame, at least if you don’t fence sabre). i mostly fenced foil, but my high school team was tiny, and i filled in wherever bodies were needed, so i learned a bit of everything. i did however break my ankle when i was 16 during a fencing bout, which required surgery. i couldn’t walk for 6 months, but i was back at it again as soon as i was cleared, and having good footwork became my top priority. 

as for sca rapier, i was at a local renaissance faire and saw one of their fight demonstrations. i noticed that the techniques looked awfully similar to épée fencing, but the swords looked far more beautiful and certainly more substantial as weaponry. needless to say, i was intrigued. i asked their table how to get involved, and i started attending their practices the very next weekend, never to pick up a foil again. i’ve been fighting with my local group and learning from my sca peers ever since.

since then, i’ve received my award of arms in large part due to my rapier dedication, i’ve won one local rapier championship, and ranked 15th in my very first large scale tourney last year, one with close to 80 participants. at work i teach kiddos the basics of swordplay, using foam swords i constructed of pool noodes, pvc, and duct tape. 

BACKPACKING: no, i haven’t technically been backpacking, but i love hiking and i’ve covered most of my local peaks. ^_^

FAVORITE BOOKS/AUTHORS: this has been a difficult and shifting thing of late, as academia crushed my adolescent love of reading and i took a long break from reading for pleasure post-uni. 

that said, the kingkiller chronicles by patrick rothfuss and the stormlight archives by brandon sanderson were my absolute favorites in high school, and having reread them recently to try and rekindle my relationship with reading is a difficult thing. they are not the perfect books i romanticized them to be, but i don’t think i can dismiss entirely the good they did for me as a depressed teen. i loved the storytelling, i loved the worldbuilding, i loved the quality of the writing and they way it let me escape for a while. would i recommend the books to anyone today? probably not. i’m searching for better ones. 

it’s likely i simply didn’t notice the misogyny or lack of queer representation as a problem because it was what i understood to be normal, and being a daft and obliviously closeted trans queer kid, the only thing i knew how to do was repress and avoid conflict. 

i don’t know if i can call those books my favorites anymore. i’ve thanked them for their comfort when i needed it, but i’ve let them go. for now i’m on the hunt for books i can actually see myself represented in. 

FAVORITE PART OF TEACHING/WORKING WITH KIDS: hm. i think it would have to be their creativity - the way they ask questions, their curiosity and their different ways of figuring stuff out, and beyond all - their gorgeous imaginations.

there are certain kids who, like me, really just want to learn, to soak up every bit of all they touch and see and hear, and to never stop trying to get better at the stuff they love. one of my students got their first coal using a bow drill this fall, after having tried for years but never quite being strong enough. a new student struggled to cross a fallen log that spans a shallow ravine, too scared of falling off to walk it like a balance beam. they worked at it for a while, crawling out on their butt or hands and knees and then backtracking when they got too scared. by the end of the day they could walk across it, still some fear in their eyes but the confidence of practice in their chest. 

i love when kids come back from their “sit spot” (20 minutes of quiet time alone in the woods) to report that they had made a new friend in the form of a tree or a fern or a squirrel that sat near them on a stump for a while. sometimes their new friend has a name and a story, sometimes they don’t. sometimes they were visited by the fairies or the voices of the wind. 

and sometimes they take a foam sword to the face and they cry, their arrow doesn’t fly as straight or as far as the others, or they say mean things to one another to protect their own pride and insecurities. sometimes they cut themselves while carving or they get clotheslined by a tree branch, and sometimes they bicker and argue about who did what, and that’s part of it too. we ask them what they notice in their bodies, how they feel and we figure out what those feelings mean and where to go from there. that’s beautiful too. 

so, it’s all my favorite. i couldn’t ask for a better job. i’ll most likely do this forever :P

thanks for the questions! i’ve tagged all “about me” kinds of questions with “& lore” so if you want to ask a question but don’t know if i’ve already answered it, check there first! my about me page also has some basic stuff there ^_^

cheers! &

#long post #& lore