#but the more i sat here and thought about it the more i was like oh fuck

[uluvjay]

Thighs-M. Verstappen

Max Verstappen x fem! reader

In which Max always catches you staring at his thighs and finally does something about it

Warnings?; smut, thigh riding, cursing, kissing, pet names, slight degradation, slight overstimulation, i apologize for any errors I missed!

It was no secret that max had nice thighs, and it was no secret to your boyfriend how attracted you were to his thighs.

The Dutchman had caught you staring at them on multiple occasions yet any time he’d lock eyes with you, your head was snapping in the opposite direction with a growing blush on your cheeks.

However lately he’s caught your eyes locked on them a bit more than usual and since you weren’t going to do anything about, he would.

He had planned a nice dinner for the two of you, not giving you many details besides to keep it casual and to be ready by seven.

“Almost ready Schat?” He questioned as he passed by your vanity on the way to your walk in closet.

“Mhm, just have to get dressed.” You smiled up at him, head tipping back to rest on his stomach as he was stood behind your seated form.

“Me too.” He smiled back, leaning down to place a kiss to your hair before heading to the closet.

He had already seen your outfit laid out on the bed, a smirk forming on his face as he pulled out his own clothes but more importantly the jeans that were a bit tight around his thighs and always had your eyes locked on the thick muscles.

He hadn’t realized how long he had taken until you were calling out for him and asking if he was ready.

“Yeah I’m ready.” He called back, sliding on his shoes and pulling one of his jackets from a hanger.

He smiled as he exited the closet to find you stood in front of your floor to ceiling mirror touching up your lipgloss, dressed in jeans similar to his, a nice black sweater, heels, and the purse he’d gotten you for your birthday.

“You look gorgeous baby.” He praised.

“Thank you.” You blushed turning to face him.

Max smirked at your sharp intake of air as your eyes raked over his body, stopping at the denim that hugged his thighs.

“Everything okay Schat?”

“Huh?-oh um yeah.” You blushed, “You look very handsome.” You said smiling as you made way to him and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

You may have did your best to cover up the lust in your eyes but max had already caught the little sparkle.

“We better get going before we’re late.” You spoke up before turning around and heading downstairs.

The ride to the restaurant was tense to say the least, you could feel the desire growing in your stomach and the dull throb beginning between your legs.

Taking glances at Maxes thighs every chance you got, eyes lingering on them a bit too much and getting caught multiple times in the process.

Getting out of the tight sports car felt like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders and thankfully you and max had been sat across from one another allowing the dinner to be relaxing however, the throbbing in between your thighs never seemed to disappear.

The ride home was a bit better than before, you being able to calm yourself down and force the sinful thoughts of riding your boyfriends thighs until you physically couldn’t go anymore to the back of your mind.

Max walked into your shared apartment first, greeting your screaming cats first before they moved onto you, rubbing their soft bodies against your legs.

“Hi my babies.” You greeted the bengals.

You moved to set your purse down on the entryway table, kicking off your tight heels with a sigh of relief

“Baby?” Max called, “can you come here for a second?”

You followed his voice into the living room, stopping in the doorway as you found his legs spread wide, jacket thrown on the opposite side of the couch while he looked at you with an evil smirk.

“Y-yeah?” You questioned.

“Come here” he spoke softly but you could hear his lustful rasp hidden below.

You made your way to stand in between his still spread legs, a gasp escaping you as his large hands reached for the button and zipper of your jeans.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking care of something.” He mumbled, eyes not bothering to look up as he pulled the denim down your legs revealing you dark blue thong.

He reached a hand out instinctively as you stepped out of your jeans before pulling you down on top of him by the hand you had placed in his for balance.

He positioned your body to rest over one of his thighs, a cocky smirk forming at the way you whimpered when your lace covered cunt came into contact with it.

“Max what’s going on?” You questioned your boyfriend once again.

“You’re going to ride my thigh until you cum, I’ve seen the way you look at them baby, I know you want to do it.”

You couldn’t help the moan that bubbled out at his words, he knew you better than you knew yourself at this point, always knowing exactly what you wanted or needed without you even having to vocalize it.

“Bu-“

“No buts Schat, now be a good girl and get yourself off on my thigh.” He instructed as he leaned back into the couch, strong arms spreading along the back of the couch.

You did as you were told, allowing your aching and dripping cunt to begin moving back and forth starting with a small momentum.

However that didn’t last for long as the new sense of pleasure took over your body and soon your hips were moving shamelessly as you humped your boyfriend’s thigh.

Max was truly struggling to control himself, watching as whimpered on top of him, the wet spot that had formed below you no doubt ruining his jeans but he could care less.

Not when your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy, and your freshly manicured nails began to claw at his expensive shirt.

“Doing so good Baby..this is what you’ve been wanting right? To hump my thigh like a little bitch in heat?” He taunted.

You hated how your pussy clenched at his dirty words, but after all it was the truth.

“Yes, fuck yes max..feels so good.” You whined, opening your eyes to stare down into his blue ones.

That’s when he snapped, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair before tugging you down and slamming his lips against yours in a hot kiss.

His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, leaving you no room to protest as his mouth dominated yours leaving you breathless on top of him.

You were both panting by the time he pulled away, his lips trailing down your throat as he left wet kisses around your skin followed by small nips.

“max I’m getting close.” You breathed, hips beginning to stutter as you could feel the fire in your lower stomach intensifying.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me pretty girl?”

“Fuck!..yes max, so close.” You cried loudly hips noticeably slowing as you did your best to keep up with your previous pace and the overpowering pleasure taking over your body.

Max dropped his hands to your hips, holding on tight at he guided your body over the thick muscle, repeatedly clenching and unclenching it to add more pressure to your sensitive cunt.

You cried out as your high overtook your body, mind going fuzzy as you slumped against max, thighs and body shaking as he continued working you through your high.

You whimpered into his neck as he slowly brought his movements to an end, finally stopping when your hand shot out to grip his wrist and a pathetic whimper fell from your mouth.

“I know baby, I know..did so good for me.” He praised as he placed kissed to the side of your head, holing your panting body close to his strong one.

You two sat like that for awhile until you finally pulled yourself away from his chest and pulled him into a slow and loving kiss, thanking him for giving you what you needed.

“That was so good.” You mumbled against his lips before pulled away.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded bashfully, a deep blush growing on your lips.

“Could have done it a long time ago if you would’ve just asked instead of hiding it.” He spoke softly reaching a hand up to stroke your cheek, his heart warming as you leaned into his palm.

“I know..but something tells me we’ll be doing it quite often now.” You smirked.

“Oh will we?” He smirked right back, his lustful gaze quickly returning.

“We most certainly will be.” You giggled, dipping down to pull him into a hot kiss.

-

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula one smut #formula one fluff #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[nachojaehyun]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© nachojaehyun, 2024.

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen #wonwoo asks #seventeen smut drabbles #svt x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen thoughts #svt hard thoughts #svt x you #seventeen smut #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #kpop smut

[alexias-putellas]

are you sure? // barça femení x teen!reader

barça femení x teen!reader

this request came in not long after that game and i still have a lot of feelings about it. here is me working through them.

warning: mentions of a panic attack but that’s all

-

are you sure?

you were so sure when alexia asked. when jona asked. when ingrid asked. when lucy asked. when marta asked. when mapi asked. even when sweet vicky asked.

you might’ve only been seventeen like her but you were so sure that you wanted to take the last penalty. it wasn’t your first and your track record for pentalties was impressive. so yeah, you were absolutely sure that you wanted to take the last one.

you grabbed the ball from cata and placed it on the floor, walking backwards a few steps to get a good run up. the whistle blew and you only took a few seconds before kicking it as hard as you could and really it felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

the reaction from hannah hampton, the roar of the chelsea fans as she swatted the ball away like it was a measly fly, the noise of the chelsea players as they ran over to their goalkeeper to celebrate making it into a champions league final.

you hadn’t moved, frozen to the spot as what just happened swirled and registered in your head. tears burned in your eyes but you blinked them away. arms wrapped around you and you could faintly hear the murmurs of vicky and esmee but you didn’t know what they were saying. you didn’t look at them. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the more senior members of the team.

it was alexia and mapi’s first champions league since returning properly from injury and deep down you knew that it was probably the last champions league for some of the others and you’d gone and thrown it away.

time seemed to move very slowly and you must’ve been running on autopilot because the next time you blinked, you were curled up in a seat on an unusually quiet bus. you were acutely aware of ingrid sitting next to you and the fact that mapi was somewhere close by. but you didn’t remember coming off the pitch or getting changed or even getting on the bus.

when the bus came to a stop outside the hotel, you were quick to grab your bag and shoot off it, hanging back a little bit to wait for jana who was supposed to be your roommate for the night.

but your arm was tapped and you turned to see mapi, a small smile on her face. “you are with us tonight, nena.”

you nodded, feeling a little bit relieved. you loved jana but you knew that she’d probably make you talk about what happened whereas mapi and ingrid would give you space to process it.

so you trailed behind the couple as the three of you made your way through the hotel. you immediately sat on the bed that looked untouched, automatically assuming that the two were already sharing the other bed.

ingrid didn’t have the heart to tell you that as per the rules, they hadn’t been sharing a bed but she was certain that bending the rules for you wouldn’t be an issue.

you didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning before ultimately staring at the ceiling. the penalty played over and over in your head like a movie. a never ending movie.

after a few more minutes of growing irritability, you sat up and threw the covers off you. quietly, you creeped over to the window and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring into the lightening sky.

the light of your phone reflected but you didn’t move to look at it. why would you? it wasn’t going to be anything good. a tear dropped onto your arm before you even noticed you were crying. you harshly wiped at your eyes. you had no right to cry or be upset. the others did but not you.

it was your fault after all.

your mind wandered. what would’ve happened if someone else had taken the last penalty? what if you’d taken an earlier penalty? what if you didn’t take one at all? should you have taken one at all?

suddenly you weren’t so sure.

ᡣ𐭩

you sobbed softly into bagheera’s fur, the thought of going into training making you sick to your stomach.

as soon as you’d stepped foot back in barcelona, you’d retreated into your room at mapi and ingrid’s place and never came out. you didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t post anything on your social media’s. you didn’t do anything. the only people you’d interacted with being the couple who had opened their home to you but even that was rare.

if you had a choice, you’d have chosen to slowly integrate yourself back with the girls. but you didn’t have a choice. you had to go back to training, being thrown straight into the deep end with people who probably hated you and in your eyes, they had every right to do so.

you could hear mapi and ingrid moving around and chattering quietly and when footsteps got a little too close, you held your breath, swallowing your sob. there was a soft knock at the door then.

“nena?” mapi’s soft voice sounded through the door and you sat up slightly. she wasn’t going to come in, you knew that. “we are leaving in five minutes.”

those simple words had you burying your face further into the cat’s soft fur. you took deep breaths, willing yourself not to cry again. with a sense of hesitation, you let bagheera go and slipped off your bed. once you were sure the spaniard had left, you snuck into the bathroom.

your reflection made you wince. you weren’t going to be able to cover up those bags. and the splotchiness on your face didn’t seem to budge when you splashed yourself with water.

with a heaved sigh, you grabbed your stuff from your room and granted bagheera his freedom, following behind him as he darted straight to mapi.

truthfully neither mapi or ingrid thought you’d actually attend training so they’d already pre-warned jona and alexia of your potential absence.

but then you walked into the living room, training bag on your shoulder and a tired look on your face.

“ready elskling?” ingrid asked softly and you nodded.

the short drive to the training centre left you filled with more dread. and when mapi pulled up, you muttered something about needing to use the bathroom before running faster than you ever had.

your bag fell to the floor as soon as you’d reached your destination. your hands gripped the edge of a sink as you willed yourself to breathe. but nothing seemed to work.

you sunk to your knees, head pressed against the cool ceramic as your breathing worsened.

tears spilled down your cheeks, a feeling of dread growing worse with each passing second, and you wanted—needed to calm down. ingrid or mapi would soon raise the alarm that you still weren’t there and someone would come looking for you.

the thought of being late and potentially making the others late made you feel even worse. and you somehow sobbed between your staggered breaths.

the reasons to hate you kept piling up and you wondered how long it would be until you did something truly unforgivable. well you supposed you already had.

the door opened and again, time seemed to slow down for you. you were extremely aware of the arms wrapped around you, the hand rubbing your back soothingly, and the voice quietly encouraging you to breathe.

and then you were all on the floor, sitting in silence. a terrible, deafening silence. alexia, ingrid, and frido had never seen you look so small and childlike, a harsh reminder for them that that’s exactly what you were. a child. who appeared to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“it is okay, nena,” alexia said softly. your jaw clenched a little but you said nothing. “you are young. we all made mistakes when we were young.”

you held back the urge to laugh in her face. whilst that may have been true, you seriously doubted that any of them had single-handedly threw away a chamipions league semi-final.

“we win as a team and we lose as a team,” frido added on. “we are a family.”

“and without you we wouldn’t have even made it to penalties. you got us there elskling.”

you nodded but made no move to speak or even look at them, having kept your eyes trained on your linked hands.

it quickly became very obvious that you were still not in the mood for social interactions but the three held a little hope in their hearts as you scampered behind them to get ready for training.

the session wasn’t too bad. you did what you were supposed to do with minimum fuss and you kept to yourself. maybe giving vicky and esmee a small smile every now and then.

to them, it was progress. to you, it was nothing. merely a gesture of goodwill to show them that they were in your good books. you still didn’t speak though and ingrid’s words circled your mind. she was right, you were the reason barcelona had even made it to penalties but you were also the reason barcelona lost out and you knew which one was being spoken about all the time.

when you returned home with mapi and ingrid, you went straight to your room, placing yourself into the bay window and staring down at the busy street below. soft knocks sounded and the door opened, bagheera’s quiet meow drawing your attention. you glanced over your shoulder to see mapi stood there, two cups of coffee in her hands.

she motioned to the space next to you and you barely nodded, eyes on the soft cat as he jumped onto your lap. the spaniard carefully placed the cup into your hand. you brought it up to your lips, sipping it slowly. “good?”

“yes, thank you.” you whispered.

it silent again, something you’d actually grown quite fond of. mapi’s presence was comforting in a way but you knew she was still mad at you so when she spoke up again, you told her what she wanted to hear.

“you are okay nena, right?” she asked but the concern in her eyes wasn’t noticed by you and you nodded, desperate for her to leave so you could cry in peace. “estas segura?”

“i’m sure.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #barça femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #ona batlle #keira walsh #lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen #esmee brugts #jana fernandez

[russo-woso]

please make Mini Williamson a series I loved it so much!!

Milestones || A Mini Williamson story

If you haven’t read part one, it is here.

Leah loved milestones. Whether it was a first date, a first kiss, a first anniversary, she loved it.

What she loved even more, was when the milestones included Amelia.

When Amelia had her first bottle, Leah cried as she held Amelia in her arms whilst feeding her.

When Ami could hold her head up properly. Leah wasn’t home at the time due to her training, but you knew she’d want to know and so you phoned her and she stopped training and drove home to celebrate.

When Amelia started crawling. You were all sat in the living room and Leah was on the floor with Ami. Amelia was having her tummy time for the day and soft giggles filled the room as Leah played with some of her toys with her.

Your heart melted as you heard the giggles escaping Ami’s mouth.

You watched on as Leah encouraged her to crawl.

She set Ami up on her knees and after about seven times of Amelia face planted the soft carpet, she set one knee in front of the other and made her way over to her mummy.

Leah’s smile widened as she realised Amelia had crawled for the first time. Once Ami had reached Leah, Leah enveloped her in a hug, Amelia immediately melting into Leah’s body.

Unknowingly to Leah, you had recorded the whole thing.

You posted it on TikTok and the fans loved it.

And Leah did too. She loved the thought of being able to show her fans the pride she felt for Amelia in that moment.

However, the biggest milestone Amelia had achieved was her first steps.

Just four days before her first birthday, Amelia took her first steps.

Alessia, Amelia’s godmother, had come down to St Albans to spend the weekend for Amelia’s birthday.

Most of the Arsenal and England girls had been invited for a get together for her birthday, but Alessia insisted that she wanted to spend the weekend because she hadn’t seen you all in months.

You couldn’t say no, you loved Alessia like she was your little sister and having her around was always a treat.

It had been a quiet day. Leah had gone to training in the morning which meant you and Amelia spent the day showing Alessia round St Albans.

You went in a few shops and bought a few lasts minute gifts for Ami.

With a mix of yours and Leah’s presents for her, plus all your family and friends, It was safe to say that she was going to be spoilt for her birthday.

The current spare bedroom, was filled with presents.

Alessia was sleeping in the spare bedroom and was constantly going on about how toys were falling on her whilst she was sleeping.

You arrived back home just in time for Leah to get back from training.

You had made a cuppa for both you and Less, settling on the couch before Leah walked through the door.

She walked into the living room, planting a kiss on your lips before picking up Amelia who laughed as Leah pressed kisses all over her face.

Alessia was sat on the floor playing with Ami whilst you and Leah spoke about her training session.

“It was like a rocket, baby. It went straight past Manu.” Leah explained, and you smiled at her genuine excitement.

“I’m sure it did, le. Well done, love.” You said to her, cuddling more into her side as you continued to watch Alessia play with Amelia.

You watched as Amelia tried to climb up to stand.

She had mastered standing at that point but it was just the walking part.

Less helped stabilise her before encouraging her to walk.

With the speed of light, Leah had separated from your touch and found herself sitting opposite Alessia.

“Come on, baby girl, you can do it.” Leah said to Amelia, who couldn’t understand a words Leah had just said.

Amelia put one foot in front of the other and slowly made her way to Leah.

You all clapped her on as a massive smile appeared on Amelia’s face, clearly loving the attention.

As Ami got to Leah, she fell forwards but Leah caught her before bringing her towards her chest, kissing Amelia’s head over and over again.

You crouched down next to them, taking Amelia from Leah as you too, kissed her head.

After a minute of you and Leah hugging Ami, you gestured for Alessia to join the group hug.

After just thirty seconds, you split away from the hug noticing that Amelia was fast asleep on your chest.

Her head was buried in your neck and her body limp against your chest.

The busy morning and the walking had obviously tired her out.

“I’m so proud of her.” Leah said, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

“I am too. Oh, baby, are you crying?” You cooed at Leah, who nodded her head, tears falling down her cheeks.

“She’s not going to be our baby girl for much longer.” Leah managed to get out, her voice breaking.

“Le, she’ll always be our baby girl. Forever.” You told her, bringing your arm to reach Leah, bringing her into your side. “And hey, just think. We’ll get to do this all over again when we have another one.”

“I can’t wait.” Leah stated, a smile taking over her saddened face before placing a kiss on your lips.

“Another one? Awe, Ami gets to be a big sister.” You jumped as Alessia voice filled the room.

“Fuck Less, you scared me.” You turned to look at Alessia on the other side of you, a grin evident on her face as you gently punched her arm.

You’d been so focused on Leah that you’d forgotten Alessia was even in the room.

“I’ll go put Amelia down and then we’ll spend the rest of the day watching movies. Sounds like a plan?” You questioned, Leah immediately nodding but Alessia looked away, biting her lip. “Alessia, what did you do?” You knew her oh so well, knowing that she’d done something she shouldn’t have.

“I may have bragged to Tooney that I helped Ami take her first steps. But I forgot to check if I was private messaging her, so it turns out, that I accidentally messaged the group chat and now all the England girls are making their way here.” Alessia explained, Leah’s eyes widening as she checked her phone which confirmed that Alessia’s story was in fact true.

Messages with congratulations to Amelia filled Leah’s phone.

The rest of the afternoon was hectic. It was hectic but full of love.

All Leah’s teammates were family at this point and the fact some of them had travelled hours just to spend the afternoon with your daughter just showed how much they loved her.

Amelia was still asleep when most of them got there but as soon as the sound of crying was heard from the baby monitor, Leah jumped up to go get her.

Le walked back into the room, everyone gathering round to greet the mini Williamson.

You watched as Leah grinned at all her friends with Amelia.

Lia took Ami from Leah and Leah immediately walked over to you, sitting down next to you on the couch.

“So, you mentioned another one.” Leah began, not taking her eyes off her teammates, just imaging them all with Amelia and another baby.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready. Of course, Ami’s still young but I’m ready when you are.” You whispered to Leah, your head resting on her shoulder.

“Two mini Williamsons? God help the world.” Tooney exclaimed, sneaking up behind you and obviously overhearing the conversation.

“I now know where Alessia gets it from.”

Requests are open :)

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso fluff

[rafeandonlyrafe]

separate lines

words: 600 (+ three images)

warnings: entire fic is through phone calls/text messages, parental death (ward), established relationship, kinda protective rafe but its cute he just misses his girl, includes pictures of "readers" face/body, kind of illusions to sex (like barely!), overall pretty fluffy

“rafey!” you squeal as you answer your phone seconds after it rings. “how's it going?”

“well, everything is still standing.” rafe huffs out. you can practically hear the stress in his voice.

“that's good, baby. i miss you a lot.” sure, he just left this morning to drive back to the outer banks, but that doesn't change the fact that you miss him anytime he's away from you.

“god, i miss you too. if rose didn't need me here id still be-

“i know.” you cut rafe off. “you're back for three days with your family. it'll be fine and then we will be back together.”

you know being back in the outer banks is stressful for rafe after everything that happened. the mess with barry, the pogues, and then all culminating in his dad dying. when you decided to go a couple hours away to college, you still thought you'd have to persuade your boyfriend to come with you, to leave the only life he's ever known, but he jumped at the chance.

you live in a luxury townhouse right near downtown. you're even able to walk to most of your classes, of course with rafe by your side.

“you're right.” rafe hums. “we are figuring out the will stuff tomorrow morning.”

“i wish i could be there for you. text or call if you need anything.” you have classes tomorrow, but you'd drop anything if rafe really needed you.

“yeah just… text me updates, please? even if you just do the laundry or something. it helps to know.”

“of course i will.” you smile, hearing some commotion in the background. “and rafey? give wheezie a hug for me.”

“is that y/n?” you hear her voice in the background, then the fumbling of the phone being handed off.

“y/n!” wheezie squeals.

“wheezie, my girl!”

--

--

“how are you getting to class?” rafe asks, looking into the room where proceedings are about to start, going over his fathers will and who gets what. he knows most of it will go to rose, most likely the house and the real estate company. he doesn't really care. he has a new life now, one with you.

“amber is gonna drive me and pick me up. and no, her boyfriend will not be there.” you giggle, knowing even though amber and her boyfriend steven have been together since third grade, rafe would still worry with him around.

“and you're going to poli sci and then your geology lab, right?” rafe has your schedule memorized, but he likes to hear your confirmation anyways.

“yup!” you nod, even though rafe can't see you. “im excited for todays lab, actually. it's not rock identification, which you know i suck at.”

rafe let's out a soft laugh, having sat and listened to your complaining about rocks for hours already this semester.

“rafe, it's starting soon.” rose says, her words being picked up by you, otherwise rafe probably would have just ignored her in favor of keeping talking.

“alright, baby. hope it all goes well and doesn't take too long. i love you.” you coo into the phone.

“love you more.”

--

--

“home tomorrow.” rafe whispers softly, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the house. he's exhausted, so they must be too. it was a long day with lots of legal jargon, but everything got divided up about how he expected it to. 

most to rose, then the additional savings divided up evenly between him, sarah, and wheezie.

“im glad.” you whisper back, matching his tone even though you're home alone. “i ordered a cute pair of pajamas to wear to help me sleep. you know how much i struggle without you.”

“your insomnia cure.” rafe smiles, remembering what you called him after you first started sharing a bed, able to easily relax into him and fall into a true deep sleep.

“mhm.” you hum out, letting out a yawn. “do you mind staying on the call until i fall asleep?”

“baby, ill stay on all night.”

--

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

#i forgot to change the times for the texts so just pretend reader scrolled back and screenshoted them all at the same time thanks! #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #obx fic #outer banks fic #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x oc #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron imagine

[gglitch1dd]

King Katsuki x Courtesan Reader Snippet

So... I realised I forgot Katsuki's birthday and that's one of the only days I write something for him. But to be fair... I don't care about Katsuki but its a yearly tradition so I guess I gotta do something for the blond pomeranian.

SO yall remember the Breedingtober thing where Katsuki was supposed to have a one-shot where it was king Katsuki x Courtesan reader? Yah that.

I'll work on finishing that as my atonement to all the Bakugou stans.

Here's a snippet for yall. Hopefully its done by the end of the week.

Katsuki walked into the building with his men. The beautiful building was filled with sweet fruity fragrances. He pushed past the hanging lace that was around the entrance way. It revealed the one thing Katsuki’s men had been begging to stop in while they rode back to the capital. It was something that Katsuki wanted to outright deny but Eijiro had done a good job persuading him into trying to “Keep moral up”.

When Katsuki agreed, he didn’t think that would mean visiting the pleasure district.

The pleasure house had beautiful welcomers that bowed before them, motioning towards an old lady who sat in front, leading further into the elaborate building. She sat with her eyes closed, her hands on her lap as she seemed content, despite the place she was currently in. Her blue eyes opened as she looked to the warriors in front of her. “Evening, gentlemen. How can I assist you?” She asked, moving to shuffle onto her feet.

Eijiro, the highest ranking military general of his armed forces, stepped forward. He had an easy smile on his face like always. He motioned over to Katsuki. “I would like to introduce, his majesty, Emperor Bakugou Katsuki, as well as his royal first legion.” He motioned to the rest of the men that had come with the two of them. “We would like to implore your…” Eijiro hesitated as two girls, from the way they were dressed in lighter paler colours, with their hairs done up with hairpins, were clearly courtesans in training. They giggled at the sight of the officers and highest ranking noble. Eijiro looked back at the old lady with a glint in his eyes. He motioned behind him. “your institution’s services for the night.”

Coming out from behind them all was a chest filled with gold, carried in by two of the squires that were travelling with them. The lady’s grey eyebrows raised in surprise, her eyes looking down at the contents in front of her. Her eyes flicked to Eijiro who held a smirk on his face, knowing that the only currency that places like this spoke was in gold.

The old lady grinned and motioned to the room to her right. “You are more than welcomed to stay as long as you please, your majesty.” She bowed, allowing them further into the pleasure house.

Katsuki rolled his eyes as he stepped forward to the room that she had motioned to. To say that Katsuki didn’t want to be here would be an understatement. He wanted to be farthest away from here. He wanted to be on his horse being closer to the palace than further away. The battle that happened on his Eastern border was more taxing than he thought it would be. It was the last thing he needed but it was a great distraction. It kept him out of that stuffy palace and back with a sword in his hand.

It also kept him away from his wife.

“Eijiro, this better not be a waste of my gold.” Katsuki spoke as his crimson gaze moved back to his taller best friend and most trusted comrade.

The redheaded military officer chuckled as he rolled his shoulders. “Your majesty, this is supposed to be our celebration of our great victory.” He reminded the blond emperor. Were they alone, Eijiro would have called him by his first name, however with so many eyes and ears around, Eijiro chose the safer route.

Katsuki tsked as he moved towards the front. This seemed to be a greeting area, where they would receive more higher ranking guests. It would make sense from the red fully stuffed pillows, silks, laces and the incense being burned and wafted into the air. Katsuki scoffed as he motioned down to the front of the rows of pillows. Another pillow was brought, placing it on top of that one. Katsuki finally sat down unceremoniously, his hands on his knees as he stared forward with a scowl.

“Aww come on, Emperor.” Sero spoke up this time, sitting on the other side of him while Eijiro sat to the left of Katsuki. He spoke with an eased back straight smile. “You’ve been so tense ever since you got married, it’s time for you to live a little. Just like we used to before you got crowned.” He reminded the blond.

The good old days.

Something Katsuki missed more than anything. A time where he was fighting for his throne, where he had blood and dirt under his nails, a sword always resting on his hip and a tan from the hot sun that shone down on him. It was perfect to him. With nothing but his close friends around him and a burning fire reminding Katsuki of all he lost and all he would gain back again.

Now as Emperor, although Katsuki accepted and enjoyed the extravagance of his life, he missed his old one.

“Speaking of which,” Denki started to speak as he moved to sit beside Sero. “I’m sure a certain Empress Ochaco will be more than happy to see you, your majesty.” He spoke with one of those stupid smirks on his face.

Katsuki tried to bite back a groan at the thought of Ochaco. She was a good looking woman that was for sure with a good body and she did what a wife was supposed to, Hell, she was a great empress even. The only problem was…

Katsuki couldn’t seem to give more than half a fuck about her.

It wasn’t Ochaco’s fault. Not in the slightest. Katsuki just couldn’t find it within himself to see her as anything more than what she was. A woman who got sold through an agreement made by her father so that Katsuki could win the war. She never desired Katsuki nor did she ever see a need to do anything more beyond her wifely duties to him should he wish. She was a great empress when she wasn’t annoying the living daylights out of him. But she wasn’t Katsuki’s woman.

Which was probably why he felt little to nothing about the fact that he was about to entertain whores in a pleasure house tonight and return to her tomorrow.

Katsuki closed his eyes and fought back a scowl unsuccessfully. He really was tense. “Where’s that old woman!?” He asked loudly now that all of them were seated.

A low chuckle came as the old woman walked from a side corridor over to them. She moved towards the men, moving to stand at a wall. “I apologise, your majesty. I was fetching my girls.” She informed him. “Now, of course, since you have graced us with your presence, your majesty, you will be the first to choose from my highest-ranking courtesans.” She motioned to where she had come from.

Walking in from the hidden sides were a group of five women, all more beautiful, curvaceous and enticing than the last. They carefully sat down on their knees, their bosoms nearly spilling out of their dresses and their make-up perfectly complementing their complexion. Katsuki’s eyebrows eased at the sheer beauty in front of him. No wonder his men were so eager to be here. He had heard from them about how this was the best pleasure house in the entire kingdom and was hesitant to believe them, however looking at his options, he wasn’t surprised.

There was one, that did catch Katsuki’s attention more than anyone else.

You sat in the middle of them all, your eyes looking straight at Katsuki almost as if you weren’t afraid to look at death straight in the eyes. You had this stare that had something brewing inside Katsuki immediately. It made him feel like he was suffocating, like he couldn’t breathe under your scrutiny. You were by far the most beautiful out of all of them. Not by looks but just by your presence. Your eyes scanned over his front line highest ranking officers. Each one of them stiffening under your gaze, blushes blooming to their cheeks.

Your eyes finally settled back on Katsuki. You bowed your head, moving your hands in front of you as you lowered your head, bowing down towards the floor. “Your majesty, the honour is ours.” You all spoke but Katsuki only wanted to hear from you.

“Now, you can pick any of the-”

“That one.” Katsuki pointed a single finger towards you. His crimson eyes stayed honed on you. “I want that one.”

-Glitch1d

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #barbarian king bakugou katsuki #barbarian king bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical graphic depictions

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

You were running on coffee and willpower, and both were in short supply. You cradled what you promised would be your last cup in your hands, feeling your fried nerves inch closer to bursting into flames with every bitter sip. 

Azriel had one arm looped protectively around your waist, propping you up against his side like an overworked bookend. You both sat huddled over the map you’d spent the last day and night laboring over until you could picture every stark line pressed behind shuttered eyelids like an afterimage. Until your cramped hands shook while clutching the mug like a vice. 

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Nesta, Lucien, and Cassian similarly hovered over the innocuous sheet of paper. Pale parchment glow flickering over expressions of intense thought. 

You traced the outline of the lake, its form vaguely star shaped and pointing abstractly towards the north, south, east, and west.

“Here.” You tapped the northeast edge where a greyed out huddle of shapes formed the forest and a collection of scribbles marked the Death god’s home close to the waters. The lines swirled in your mind like a thousand snakes locked in battle, swallowing each other whole and getting eaten alive in an endless, vicious cycle. 

Koschei’s portion of the continent lay flat and unassuming, seemingly vulnerable with the flatlands peering at his back with limitless entry points for enemies from the Continent. But the seductive ease of access through that region was a guise. Koschei was a death god, and a powerful one at that. Magic grew in and out of the soil there and what walked those woods had a strange habit of toeing the line between life and death.

The western corners swam in seas of grasslands, flat and open and unprotected save for the expanse of water a mile wide. 

And the lake. The lake was the most curious thing of all. A black shape on paper, still and foreboding. 

You knew from Andrian’s memories that enchanted swans flocked there — women layered with curses that kept them bound to the region in animal form — but nothing else. No creatures floundered in the salty dark. No animals came to drink from it as if they could sense the power that tainted it with decay. 

“The boundaries of the Koschei’s power lie somewhere along here.” You pointed to the lazy line sketched down. “But I wouldn’t trust it. When Andrian was first sent off from the lake he crossed the plains towards one of the harbor towns on the coast and he felt that Koschei’s influence scaled with the distance away from the source of his power.” 

“Any weak points? Places we could slip in unnoticed?” Feyre’s eyes scanned the page, reimagining your weak swirls of ink into something more layered. Something with more meaning that could only come about from the mind of an artist and a warrior. 

You pointed to one of the star points and then to another toward the south. “Here and here. Don’t ask me how and don’t ask me why but these are the only two blind spots. Andrian used to sneak away from Koschei’s house to these two places.”

“To do what?” Cassian asked. He lumbered towards the back of the war room, easily peering over everyone’s shoulders to the flattened parchment and eyeing the wooden pieces strewn across the map, his own piece being tipped with a glistening red stone. 

“To plan his escape.” 

A hush fell over the room, thick and suffocating. 

The boy had never succeeded.

Feyre’s lips flattened to a pale line, the air around her reverberating with heat as the temperature in the room rose — a drop of Autumn’s power magnified. She nodded to the second map, this one gathered from Azriel’s contacts on the Continent. Whereas your map had laid out Koschei’s land in detail, Azriel’s was suspiciously empty where the lake was concerned. The two fit together like puzzle pieces. “What’s the nearest harbor town?”

“Tournnes.” Azriel replied without needing to look down. You’d memorized one map, he’d memorized the other. “It’s a small fishing village located twenty-three miles to the southwest. Most of the inhabitants are men that come and go with the season and travel west from Slairn and Friesieg. It will be empty this time of year.” The fish would have gone south in search of warmer waters. Even here the Sidra had turned frigid, crusts of ice lapping up against grey sand shores. 

Cassian shook his head, examining the map with a scowl. “There’s poor coverage getting from Tournnes to Koschei. And an abandoned town’s too obvious a place to hide any soldiers. It’d be better to come in from the east, through the woods.”

“Then we’d need to take the long way around Koschei’s territory.” Lucien argued back, “Our soldiers would need to trek through foreign lands for weeks and we’d lose any advantage Tarquin could give us by staying close to the coast.” 

“You can’t trust those woods,” you gasped, your eyes flashing with fear that didn’t wholly belong to you. 

Never enter those woods. Henna had once warned her Andrian. Never. Do you understand me?

Azriel tightened his hold on you, pressing his lips into your hair to brush against your ear. “Breathe, my love. Breathe.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. 

It was a heavy burden carrying the memories of others. Like a weight tied around your belly that hadn’t been properly woven into flesh. Something both part and apart from you. And you’d been feeling too many of Andrian’s memories in the past week since his death. 

Silence flung itself over growing irritation and anxiety as everyone circled back to the same conclusion. 

They wouldn’t be able to bring their armies abroad. And with limited numbers, brute strength would only go so far when forced to bring a fight to a foreign land against a foreign god. This would be decided by few. It would be as intimate as lovers. As ruthless as enemies. 

“There’s still the other plan.” Nesta reminded them, glancing first at Feyre and you with the faintest of nods. 

“I hate that plan, Nes.” Cassian gripped the back of her wing-backed chair and she reached up to take his hand in her own. She looked like a queen in her own right — harsh, pragmatic, unwavering. And he her mirror — a roguish knight, rough and wild and raw. 

“I know. Unfortunately for you, it’s the best one we’ve got.” 

“It’s the only one we’ve got.” Mor said with a sigh, rubbing her temples to alleviate the ache there. “We’re asking for a blood bath one way or the other.” 

“Ione is still with us.” Rhys squeezed his cousin’s knee. “Without her, he can be killed.” 

“But for how long, Rhys? How long until he finds someone else? Some other way?”

The question hung in the air like an ax ready to fall. An invisible clock ticking its way towards doom. Koschei had read the book’s contents. He had to know the secret to freeing himself was sheltered in Ione’s veins. So long as she was alive and breathing she was a threat as much as she was a tantalizing prize for him to tear his teeth into. 

Feyre’s fingernails clicked on the glossy tabletop, eyes narrowed in on that splash of black on paper. Through the golden string tied to her lower ribs, she felt the tug of her mate’s silent agreement. Her eyes flickered upward for a brief moment, as if she could see through the layers of the House to the skies above. “For as long as we have Ione, we have the upper hand. But we can’t rely on it forever.” She looked at you, “ We go with the first plan. It will have to be enough.” 

You shivered. 

Four years ago, when the Day Court had first opened its borders to foreigners from other Courts, you’d encountered a male in the market. He’d been young and reckless and glamoured himself to live amongst the humans for six months. In that time, he’d learned their version of magic — the sleight of hand tricks and elaborate games of misdirection humans played on one another. Caped entertainers bedazzling crowds with obvious moves, while the real work happened just out of frame. 

You thought of him now. You pictured him in the marketplace as he made a hand-painted playing card disappear from his hand into the fold of his suit jacket, only to reappear under an overturned teacup. 

Yes. 

It would have to be enough. 

The crisp blade flashed in the dull light as you moved your feet back and forth in a practiced dance. 

Left, left, right, duck, keep your wrist straight and slice up. Just like Azriel had instructed you. He stood off the narrow mat, hazel eyes tracing every slow movement of yours with a critical gaze. 

“Practice makes permanence.” He’d reminded you earlier. “Get it right first, then we’ll worry about speed.” 

Magic hovered over the House of Wind’s training gym, warping the air like a soap bubble as it shielded you from the frigid rain. Even so, the scent of petrichor and the cleanliness of frosted wind hung close to warn of the storm churning its way down from the north, carrying with it the promise of rainfall or the first true flakes of snow. 

How poetic that winter should come with death chasing its heels while you were learning a dozen ways to kill a man. 

“Here.” Azriel took your wrist in a loose grip, arching your arm and sticking the point of the knife into the training dummy’s jugular. Hay crinkled and burst out from the burlap covering instead of blood and you stepped away, locating the points in the liver, the lungs, the heart, the throat, under the arms, and more. Gruesome things made digestible by the motionless, fake body propped up on wooden poles. 

You didn’t need to imagine what it would feel like for your blade to meet flesh. 

Your arms ached. Hot, unfamiliar stretches of muscle trembling while slick with sweat. You could taste salt on your tongue as Azriel repeated himself. 

“Be precise. Be quick if you can. Then run like hell.” 

Incapacitation and speed. Those were the only two things you could rely on if things went south on the Continent. 

Precise. Quick. Run.

“Emphasis on run,” You muttered beneath your breath. You adjusted your feet to match Azriel’s stance, feeling the strength of his muscles close to your body and imagining some of that power seeping into the ground for you to drink up. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, then rose in a smile. “Exactly.” He stepped in, hands twisting your hips to be straight and then drifting up to your wrist. “Too much.” He corrected your bones with a feather-light touch. He wasn’t smiling anymore. 

It should have been romantic. Him touching you like this with his front pressed against your back and his breath sliding over your skin as he taught you to wield a knife. Instead his insides churned relentlessly. Visions of you, blood-splattered and motionless on the ground, flashed through his mind. He’d be damned if he let that happen again. 

You practiced on him next. Blunt, stone knife gripped in your hands as he moved in slow-motion. Azriel must have had everything custom made for you. The balance felt right in your hands, the movement as fluid as your awkward limbs could manage. 

You clasped a hand around the back of his neck, dragging him forward as you swung up. 

Where the head goes, the body will follow.

He didn’t so much as grunt as the stone wedged itself into his ribs. 

You locked eyes with him and saw his pupils blown wide as a doe’s. “Good.” He murmured. “Again.” 

On and on you went for hours, Azriel’s panic fueling the training he put you through, as if he could fit a hundred years of combat into a handful of hours. 

You grunted when Azriel easily flipped you over onto your back, a scarred hand catching the nape of your neck so your head wouldn’t slam into the floor. The knife slipped out from your sweaty fingers, skittering away and disappearing beneath one of the weapons racks along the wall. You breathed heavily beneath him, feeling the grit of the ground and the sweat sliding into your hair and the leather brushing your chest with every breath he took. 

In a real fight, Azriel would have killed you a thousand times over and he knew it. There was not a single moment where you could have saved yourself. 

You saw the tell tale flicker in his eyes, the tensing of his jaw before he gritted his teeth and swore beneath his breath. 

You felt shame seep into your stomach again. “Az—”

“I want you to take my memories,” he said. “Everything I’ve learned over 500 years.” 

Metal whispered against leather as a tendril of shadow retrieved the knife and slid it into the thigh sheath Azriel had tied around your legs only hours ago. It felt strange to have such an unfamiliar weight against your thighs. To know that only leather kept the wicked blade from slicing you to the bone. 

“We’ve been over this before, Azriel. I can take however many memories I want from you until I can picture every way to take down an enemy in my mind’s eye. But that doesn’t mean my body will obey or follow through correctly. Knowing things mentally isn’t the same thing as knowing things physically.”

Azriel huffed in frustration, dropping one hand to your waist like he often did and gripping the flesh there to ground him. 

“If we had more time—”

“When this is over we’ll have more time.” 

If I make it. 

Because if there was anyone who would survive what was to come. It was Azriel. And you could find a great deal of comfort in that.

Azriel must have read your doubt because his eyes hardened and his hands came up to cup your jaw. “We will have more time. We’ll have time for everything, do you understand me?”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want. We’ll travel the Courts. I’ll take you dancing and—”

“You’ll teach me a dozen new ways to kill someone?” 

“Exactly.”

“Should I start keeping a tally?” 

“If that would help, then yes.” He dipped his head down, kissing you firmly on the lips, the taste salty and warm to the touch. Kissing you came easy now. Touches were a comforting drug he craved daily. 

“If things go wrong—” He whispered, flicking a strand of hair out of your eyes. “Promise me you’ll find me.” 

You blinked up at him, tracing fragments of gold in his eyes. 

“Find you,” you echoed, your voice tinged with sadness. “You’re not going to convince me to run?”

He laughed bitterly. “I know you too well, my love. You wouldn’t listen even if I did. If anything, it would make you want to stay and fight even more, just to prove me wrong.“ “Then is this some reverse psychology? You tell me the opposite of what you want, so I end up doing what you intended all along?”

“You’re thinking too deeply about this.” He slid his arms around the small of your back, dropping his weight until you were flush against him. Until you could feel his heart beating beneath his skin in time to yours. “Find me, so I can protect you. And so if anything happens, we won’t be alone. I want you to promise me.” 

You caressed his cheek, the coarse bandages he’d wound around your wrists and knuckles scratching the skin of his jaw and the faint stubble that had grown there over sleepless nights. “I promise I’ll find you, Azriel. We’re better together anyways.” 

He could never disagree with you. He lifted you back onto your feet, kissing your forehead. “Three more drills, then we’ll be done for the day.” 

He made you run five. The bastard.

You’d dreamed of what might come. Nightmares filled with glassy-eyed children and skeletal forests where the dead roamed free. A black lake with stones of bleached bone to fill your lungs and choke the life out of you. 

You wanted to make Azriel proud. You wanted to be the kind of warrior who could match him physically, not just mentally. The kind of female he’d never have to worry about protecting in that way. But violence had never been beaten into your bones and you could only hope that the skills you did possess would see you through to the end. 

You and Azriel would make it. You’d all make it. 

Some way. 

Somehow. 

Then there would be time for everything you had ever wanted and everything you’d never had the courage to ask for.

You woke up to a world shivering beneath a dusting of snow. Frost creeped up the windowsill, trying to slither inside before the House’s magic burned it away. A grey, ashen sky hung low over the mountains, mist blowing over and gathering in valleys until they were transformed into pools of smoke. 

So this is it. You thought wearily, tasting the change in the air. Winter’s finally here to choke the world into submission. 

You burrowed further under Azriel’s wings, chasing the heat that rolled off his skin. When you looked up at his eyes they were already trained on the weather, some similar tangle of thoughts running through his mind that had his grip around your waist tightening. 

“The other death gods. Have you met any of them, Az?” You whispered your question into the hollow of his neck, feeling the blood rushing beneath your lips until he answered.

“I’ve met a fair few. The Bone Carver, Stryga, and Bryaxis joined our side in the final battle against Hybern and Nesta was equivalent in power when she first emerged from the Cauldron.” 

“Nesta?” You asked questionably. 

She was a collection of sharp edges wrapped in silk and cunning, but a death god? 

Azriel smiled ever so slightly. “You didn’t know her then, but she was a terror to behold. You could feel her presence in a room like a knife in your back or a flame licking at your heels so hold it starts to freeze. Only Cassian was foolish and lovestruck enough to approach her at the time.” 

You tried to imagine it — Cassian’s wild, borderline arrogant mannerisms going toe-to-toe against Nesta’s magnified sharp grace. “That sounds about right.” 

“Feyre knows the most about the death gods. Has come face to face with the most. Rhys sent her into the Weaver’s cabin to retrieve her engagement ring — don’t give me that look, my love, I don’t understand it either — and she’s the one who convinced The Bone Carver and Bryaxis to fight for us.” 

“Feyre has a penchant for endearing herself to monsters.” 

Azriel smirked, pearly teeth flashing. “You have no idea.” Then he said something that stuck with you. “The Bone Carver was especially close to her.” 

Anytime the Bone Carver — Thanatos — was mentioned, you could only think of Bethsevah. The one person who had ever looked upon his true face and never flinched.

“How so?” 

Shadows swarmed around his ears, as much a sign of his thinking as it was a sign that whispers beyond your own understanding were reaching him. 

“When Feyre met with the Bone Carver, he made a bargain that he’d only fight for her if she could descend into the Court of Nightmares and bring back an enchanted mirror without going mad. Feyre said she saw her true form when she looked into her reflection, and that it was only by accepting this form that she was able to keep the madness at bay. The Bone Carver was impressed with her and pledged his loyalty to her from then on.” Azriel shook his head, wings flaring out in another sign of his thinking. “It never made sense to me why a being like him would even make that bargain to begin with.” 

“Even death gods can be surprised. We should consider ourselves lucky.” 

“It wasn’t just that though. I was watching when he died. He… he turned his face up to the field at Feyre and he smiled at her. It felt like a bittersweet ending to a story I didn’t know. Like he was saying goodbye to more than just this world.” 

You draped your arm over his chest, tracing the black ink swirling across his chest and over his shoulders like ocean waves. The Bone Carver was more myth than legend to the few fae that had known of his existence and you knew with each passing century his story would be steadily wiped from the earth like wind shaving down stone. His name would become a whisper. His story, and Beth’s, a tragedy for no one but the stars to weep to. 

But you were still here, and your time with Bethsevah’s book had left you with no small amount of fondness for him. For now you would still be able to whisper his true name. 

“Thanatos.” You said. “He loved this world and the people in it. He sacrificed his life for it. I think he had many things he wanted to say goodbye to.” 

“To Thanatos then.” Azriel raised an invisible cup towards the ceiling of his bedroom, silk sheets sliding down his arms.

“To Thanatos,” you echoed. 

You eventually went through the morning motions together —Azriel helped lace up the back of your dress, and you buttoned up his shirts, careful to avoid the fragile membrane of his wings as you stood at his back.

He tugged you away from the bedroom door at the last moment, your questioning eyes softening when he cradled your face in his hands and stole one last kiss in the privacy of your room, murmuring "Beautiful," against the crown of your freshly brushed hair.

"Do the others know you're such a hopeless romantic?" You asked, finally opening the door and breaking the spell of privacy.

Before Azriel could answer, Cassian blew past the room, shockingly quiet for his mountainous size. "Yes, we all know," he shouted before disappearing down the hall.

Ione stood proud and tall in front of the windows, grey eyes narrowed at the Sidra as it wound through the valley like a snake. Cassian slid into the space beside her and handed her her cane. She knew instinctively where the warrior stood and where his hand reached out towards her. She took the cane without the second glance. A golden lion’s head roared from atop its wooden post, Ione’s fingers resting squarely between its glistening teeth as she leaned experimentally on the new device. Cassian had ordered it custom for her and she knew that hidden within the sleeve of glistening redwood was an iron rod forged in enchanted flames that rendered it near unbreakable. 

“Careful.” She reminded Cassian when she caught him staring for too long. “This body may be different, but I can still bring you to your knees.” 

Cassian chuckled, “I don’t doubt that.”

She slammed the cane against the ground once. Twice. Testing its strength and finding it worthy. “Do you think it will happen soon?” 

This waiting — it was beginning to grate on her nerves. This foreboding calm that threatened to fall away into chaos and bloodshed. She almost wished she were living three years into the future, when she was finally done healing from her wounds and the future had faded into the background of her life once more.

“If I could see into the future, I would not be here right now waiting.”

“And yet here we are.” Ione sighed, shoulders rising and falling elegantly beneath a wrinkled but slender neck.  

Cassian would have said more had Feyre and Rhys not entered the room together, bruises layered beneath their eyes as they plastered on bright smiles for their family, tension visible through the cracks in their porcelain teeth. 

The Inner Circle had assembled in their entirety at the request of their High Lord and High Lady. There was no holiday to be celebrated. No birthdays or anniversaries or special occasions. The fare that had been laid out on the table was simple and everyone filled their plates before spilling out across the sofas and the armchairs or carving out a space on one of Rhysand’s expensive hand-woven rugs. There would be no special meal around the new table devoid of scratches and watermarks and the passage of time and love. This was their family, and for their family it was the company that put finery to shame. 

Elain was a flutter of movement in and out of the kitchen, shepherding pots of tea and fruit tarts before Lucien finally caught her around the waist and made her rest. The House was equally restless. The lights strung above the fireplace mantle flickered like lantern flies. 

Mor sat with Emerie’s wings draped around her shoulders like a cape and Gwyn sat on the floor, hugging her knees close to her chest as she rested her head against the Illyrian female’s knee. To no one’s surprise, you and Azriel clung to the corner of the room, content to watch everyone’s laughter with your arm subtly looped around his. 

He still hasn’t told her, I see. Emerie noted, watching your smile stretch into place when Azriel leaned close to whisper in your ear. 

Does it matter? Mor teased, kissing Emerie’s nose reverently. The Illyrian’s cheeks turned warm. Emerie had not been granted the freedom to explore romance to the same degree as Mor, something she’d worried about when they first started their courtship. But if anyone asked the blonde, she’d tell them it drove her wild to see how such simple gestures could reduce the fearsome warrior to a puddle, even now. Mor tucked herself into Emerie’s side, throwing her long legs over the armrest. It’s probably a good thing. If they could speak to each other like this, we’d never hear from them again.

Emerie laughed into Mor’s golden hair. 

Conversations rose and fell. Plates emptied and clicked as they were laid out on the coffee table.

It was a simple peace they welcomed with open arms. 

They didn’t hear the faintest thud coming from above their heads. 

You smiled when one of Azriel’s shadows wove themselves into your hair, tickling the sensitive skin behind your ear and along your neck. 

“Sorry,” Azriel whispered, trying and failing to draw them back to him for the nth time that day. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.” They’d been especially touchy as of late, nipping at your heels like a litter of puppies vying for attention or hiding in your pockets. It was a mixture of Azriel’s own feelings that spurred them on and their own desire to protect what they’d claimed as theirs. 

“It’s alright, Azriel. I like having them around.” 

They hummed amongst themselves, happy to see you so pleased. Sometimes, Azriel wondered if you’d be able to learn to listen to them as well. To tease apart that secret language he couldn’t begin to describe. 

Maybe you were listening to them now without even realizing it.

Maybe that’s why you and Azriel were the only ones whose eyes snapped towards the hallway before the first creak of wood sounded throughout the House.

The shuffling of a new, unfamiliar set of feet down the stairs had the hair on the back of your neck rising and crackling with energy.

It wasn’t Jurian. It wasn’t loud enough to be Jurian. He so rarely descended from the attic that he made a habit of making his presence known, tired feet shuffling along the rugged staircase with measured drags. 

You walked over to your brother and tugged on the back of his shirt. “Jurian—”

“That’s not Jurian.” Lucien said with bated breath. He was the third person in the room to hear the sound.

He’d checked on his friends less than a handful of hours ago. Jurian had been as he always was — weary but hopeful as one hand had clenched the bundle of morphine and the other had leaned against the food cart Lucien had carried up to the top floor. 

And Vassa… Vassa had been uncharacteristically quiet, slouching against the wall of her gilded cage, raw skin and thin feathers trembling with her haggard breath as she slept. 

“You should come down.” Lucien had said. “You deserve a break.” 

But Jurian had only shook his head and flashed a tight smile. “As much as I would love to bless you with my presence, I won’t leave her like this. But one day, my friend, we’ll both walk down those steps together and have a proper celebration. I promise you.” 

Vassa came down the steps. 

Alone. 

Naked.

Shivering.

You eyed the window where the mid-afternoon sun beat down on a frosted city. 

It was the middle of the day… and Vassa was human. 

You clutched Lucien’s arm, fingernails digging through his cotton shirt before he could take another step forward. Silence suffocated the room. There was something deeply wrong with the cursed queen. She trembled like a newborn fawn unceremoniously dumped into the world, her skin puckered and pock-marked from where she’d picked at old scabs and opened new wounds. The whole array hung from bones so thin they may as well have belonged to a bird. 

“Vassa…” Lucien’s voice broke on her name. 

A path of bloody feathers trailed behind her.

She grasped at strands of her fiery red hair and tugged. Hard. You focused all your energy on keeping the food in your stomach when strands fell through her bloody fingers and saliva rose in your mouth. 

“I’m so sorry, Lucien. I can’t… It won’t stop.” Her voice, which had once been beautiful, grated your ears. “My skin. It feels like I’m crawling out of it.” 

“Vassa.” Lucien held out his hands, showing her they were empty. “Where’s Jurian?” He would come down. He would help her in ways only he was capable of. 

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

“Where’s Jurian?”

At the second mention of her lover’s name, Vassa broke down crying. Fat, ugly tears streaking down tan cheeks that had turned sallow and grey. She wiped them away, fingers dripping. There was a deep, unyielding hunger evident in every stutter of her body as her eyes raked across the room. You flinched when those milky, teal eyes passed over you… and landed on Ione. 

Elderly, painfully human, Ione.

Vassa’s left eye twitched and Azriel had only enough time to tackle you to the ground and cover your body with his own before the mortal queen burst into flames.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

^^ Visual depiction of how I've felt the last week like what in the world? I'm getting enough sleep I swear but every morning I feel like I'm dragging a two ton boulder behind me until I get a sip of that bitter goodness. Ugh. Hope y'all are resting better than I am.

Anyways, I know it's been a while since I posted, but the chapter is here! Whoop! And I hope you enjoyed :) As always, feedback is appreciated and welcome if you have burning things you need to get off your chest (doesn't even have to be SSIB-related honestly my inbox is there).

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x reader angst

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Hungover: knight!price x princess!reader

"Do you need a bucket?"

"Don't speak to me right now."

Sir John Price didn't try to hide his smile as he stood in the solar near the couch where you laid sprawled out. You had called him there so you could out early in the morning, however you ended confining yourself to the couch with a shawl covering your eyes.

"How are you not bedridden like me?" You groaned and he chuckled.

"Because," He began. He walked to the door and opened it, luckily catching one of the servants and asking her to bring you tea before he shut the door again. "I have a tolerance. You've barely drank more than a cup of wine in your life."

"Don't speak about alcohol, I may be sick."

Price scoffed and walked back over to you. He glanced around the room, shutting the curtains enough to where most of the sunlight was hidden but still illuminated the room before he turned to you. He knew there was no way you were going outside today, maybe not even outside the solar.

Because of that he felt a little out of place. You had no need for him, even if he wanted to stay. It would be a very bad look on you if he were stay around when you didn't need him and he didn't want to jeopardize you. There was also nothing he could do in the solar; he couldn't embroider or play chess because you were not capable.

There were the books but he'd rather do something else to torture himself with them.

"Should I leave, your highness?" He wondered but you shook your head.

"Keep me company. I won't fall asleep." You said softly.

"Do you believe that's wise?"

You peeked at him from behind the shawl and saw his concerned look. He glanced at the door again, saying it without saying it, and you thought for a long moment.

"Servants see everything but they seldom speak to anyone about it." You assure him as you placed the shawl back over your eyes. "And if I tell them I want you here, then they won't question it."

Price hummed, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he took a seat. You wanted him here.

"Should've brought my cards." He stretched out in the chair and looked through the crack of the curtains.

"You're free to the books." You gestured vaguely to the room before you brought the shawl down from your eyes. "I know, you could read to me."

Price's eyes widened and he looked at you with surprise. His mouth went a little dry as you stared at him with genuine joy at the idea yet he couldn't return it.

"You want to listen to me?" He wondered and you nodded.

"I'll fall asleep otherwise." You argued softly, though you weren't going to admit he might put you to sleep as well.

As much as he wanted to argue he could see that you weren't going to back down. He knew you wouldn't but now he was trapped, backed into a corner with no way to recover from this.

He could only imagine what you would say to him. What you might think, the crown princess of pure noble blood, would do when you found out the best knight in the realm's secret.

Regrettably he stood and walked to the shelf, staring at the many spines of the books.

"What should I read to you?" He's not sure why he asked, it's not like he would be able to pick out the right one.

"It doesn't matter, I've read them all." You hummed and you situated yourself more comfortably. "Which reminds me, I need to get different books soon."

Price hummed, noting that as he pulled out a random book. He eyed the cover, the engraved words meaning nothing to him as he felt himself grow even more nervous.

Perhaps he could come up with an excuse to leave...no he couldn't. He didn't want to hurt your feeling to save his pride.

"This one?" He held it up so you could see.

"Oh, that's one of my favorites! Good choice, Sir John." You smile and he sucked in his lips as his heart sunk.

"Alright..."

Price sat back in his chair and flipped the book open, pointedly ignoring your expectant stare as he stared at the first page. He couldn't even begin to guess what any of the words meant, only being able to recognize "the" "and" and "a". On maps he just memorized what others called the names on them, for letters he made Kyle write them. Here he had no crutch, nothing to fall back on and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Can you read, Sir John?" Your voice was softer but he couldn't look at you.

"No, your highness." He admitted and shut the book.

"Did your father not teach you?" You titled your head with confusion. "All squires get an education."

He couldn't lie anymore. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the cover of the book.

"I was very fortunate that the lord who took me in did, but I was already of age to start training, so I didn't have the time."

Your eyes widened with realization.

"You weren't born a noble?"

"No."

You stayed silent and Price found it hard not to feel some sort of shame. He hadn't deliberately lied, it was just that everyone had assumed he was fully noble without question. He grew up hidden among them, seeing a part of life he hadn't even dreamed of knowing that many of the other knights he had trained with would deny his nobility simply because his parents were peasants.

He knew how quickly things would fall apart if anyone found out, even if he was the best knight.

Now you knew.

It was another nail in the coffin of his unattainable desires. Not only was he a knight but he was technically a peasant. Your mother would punish you harder, which meant it was a good thing it'd never come to be.

Though he could only imagine how much this changed how you saw him.

"Why are you ashamed?" You sat up slowly and he finally glanced at you.

"You're not that naïve. Many would see me as a false knight despite my best efforts." He explained and you looked at him with soft yet serious eyes.

"Do their opinion mean more than your skills?"

Price's eyebrows knitted together and he looked at you for a moment. He had never thought about it that way but in reality the only thing that mattered to him was that the job got done, and that the crown was safe. That you were safe.

When he shook his head you nodded with finality.

"It shouldn't matter anyway. A knight's value is in his skill and you're incredibly well trained and brave." You said and he looked away bashfully. "If I heard such nonsense I wouldn't let it stand."

"You flatter me, your highness." He flashed you a nervous smile and you returned it.

"Better than barbaric."

He scoffed and nodded but couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't like that you knew but seeing that you didn't care made him feel somewhat better. And knowing how you think of him took most of the embarrassment away.

He grabbed the book and stood up to put it back when you spoke.

"I'll teach you to read." You stated and he looked at you incredulously.

"I can't ask you to do that-"

"You didn't. I said I would."

Somehow you always managed to surprise him in the strangest ways possible. He watched you sigh in thought as you lounged back down on the couch and situate yourself more comfortably.

You stared at him with an unreadable look in your eyes that made him shift on his feet.

"Once I'm better." You smiled and closed your eyes. "Now tell me a story, or we'll both waste away from boredom."

He stared at you, unsure yet he couldn't help the way that his shoulders felt less tense and how...excited he felt to be able to read in the future.

The things he could do for you once he could would be endless.

"A story, eh? This one will be better than your books."

A/n: Sir John Price is not a poet and yet maybe he might write you something someday

Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @sofasoap

#knight!price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x you #price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #captain john price #call of duty #princess!reader

[wlntrsldler]

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.

"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"

There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.

Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.

"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."

"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 

Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 

Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.

Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."

Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 

His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.

"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.

You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.

"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."

He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.

"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."

Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."

"Maybe."

"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."

You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"

"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 

Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"

"In a few hours."

"Oh."

"Are you upset?"

"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."

"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."

"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."

"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 

"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.

He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.

Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 

“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 

“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 

“You are more than what your father thinks.” 

He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 

When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 

There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 

“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.

“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 

Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 

Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.

#frances writes #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke fic #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan series #percy jackson fanfic #luke pjo #pjo series #pjo fanfic

[liveontelevision]

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

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[arlana-likes-to-write]

Medusa

Summary: When Fury calls you into his office, you expected to be in trouble not to be offered a spot on the team with the Avengers. Unfortunately, you have a secret you want no one to know about.

Relationships: Avenger x reader (platonic)

Warnings: implied sexual assault, reader is a mutant (similar powers to Mystic), memory loss, mention of death, protective Avengers, fluff, small amount of angst

Medusa tattoo is often interpreted as representing strength, power, and female empowerment. More specifically, some people get a medusa tattoo to indicate that they are a survivor of sexual violence and to symbolize their own empowerment

You thought you were getting fired when Fury called you into his office. You racked your brain for any possibilities that could have led you here. All your mission reports were completed and handed in. You passed your certifications with flying colors. Maybe that dipshit agent reported you. What was his name? Tom? His hand drifted a little too low for your liking during training, and you punched him in the dick. Maria didn’t even bat an eye as he rolled around the ground in pain. “Why do you look nervous?” The director asked.

“Am I in trouble, sir?” You questioned. He folded his hands and rested them on his desk.

“Did you do something that would warrant you being in trouble?” You shrugged. The man rolled his one good eye and pointed to the chair. You sat down, a knot still formed in your stomach. “The Avengers have a mission, and I think your skill sets would be helpful.” He handed you a mission report. You opened it and glanced at it. There wasn’t a lot to go on. The Avengers were looking to get into a HYDRA base that was continuing experiments on misguided individuals. The problem was they needed to find out where the facility was located.

“In 3 days, there will be a party in DC where a few suspected HYDRA personnel will be there,” Fury explained. You looked at the man, still confused about why he believed you were the right agent for the job. “The team has someone in custody invited to the party.” There it was. You closed the file and handed it back to him.

“Do they know?” The question was burning on your tongue since he said you would be joining the team.

“Do you think I’d tell them?” The man looked offended. He was the only one that knew of the scars that covered your body. “No, they only know of your skills as an agent.”

“Nick,” you sighed, sinking deeper into the chair. You were the only one that called him that. He took on a father role when he found you. Instead of turning you in, he adopted you.

“Jr,” he rounded his desk to stand before you. “I wouldn’t have suggested you if you weren’t ready.” You looked at him. His one good eye softened slightly.

“When do I leave?” A smile formed on the man’s usually stoic face.

“As soon as possible. Maria is waiting for you at the compound.” You smiled; at least you would have a familiar face there. “You got this kid.”

*

“There she is!” Maria was quick to rush over to you and bring you into a hug. You saw Natasha walk over to you behind her shoulder. “The big man finally let you join the big leagues, uh, jr?” You rolled your eyes. Maria always liked to tease that you were Fury’s only soft spot. Hell, you were her soft spot, too. Once the agent released you from the bone-crushing hug, you faced the Black Widow.

“Natasha,” she offered her hand, and you shook it. Of course, you knew who she was. “Maria has not stopped talking about you.” You glanced at the agent, but she shrugged her shoulders. “She called you, Jr.,” the Black Widow slowly said. Are your parents agents?” Maria snorted but covered it up with a cough.

“Technically, yes,” you said. The redhead gave you a look for you to continue. “The director adopted me when I was 14.” Natasha’s eyes widened, and her head snapped to look at Maria. The agent cringed slightly. You knew the duo were dancing around being in a relationship- many SHIELD agents talked about it. “It was need to know,” you said. “He didn’t want certain people to find out.” It was understandable. The man had a long list of enemies. Maria put her arm around your shoulders.

“The team is waiting to meet you,” she said. “Are you ready to show them what you can do?” You weren’t 100% sure if you were.

*

“This is the agent the pirate wanted us to bring onto the team,” Tony said as you entered the meeting room. There was an empty seat next to Wanda; you took it with a smile. “She’s a kid.”

“So is Peter, and you let him on the team,” Maria defended.

“I’d be carefully talking about Fury,” Natasha smirked. “You are looking at his kid.” The billionaire’s jaw dropped. You shrugged.

“I didn’t know he had it in him to reproduce,” the comment got him a quick smack to the back of the head by Rhodey. You cringed even though he adopted you, the idea- Nope. Not happening.

“Ignore him,” Steve said. “We are excited to have you on the team.” You smiled at the blonde super-solider.

“Director Fury was unclear on what you could provide for this mission,” Vision said. You made eye contact with Maria, who winked at you. “Can you provide some insight?”

“I’m enhanced,” you said. “I spent time with Charles Xavier to get it under control.”

“Can you show us what you can do?” Sam questioned. You smiled and nodded.

“Maria, pick one of them,” the agent smirked and pointed to Steve. Sighing, you stood up and walked over to the super soldier. He rolled back in his chair away from the table. All you did was hold out your hand. “It won’t hurt.”

“Will it hurt you?” he countered. His statement made you frown. That was different. No one ever asked how your abilities affected you. You shook your head. It never hurt, but it left you disoriented. Steve hesitated but connected his hand with yours. Nothing happened, and you dropped his hand. Then you changed.

You remembered a time before Fury sent you off to Xavier. Every time you grabbed onto someone’s hand, you changed. Now, you can control it and only use your powers when you want to.

No matter how many times you did this, you found it fascinating. You saw the world differently each time. Now, with the super soldier senses, the world seemed sharper. Steve was taller and stronger than you. It felt strange being him.

“Holy fuck.”

“Language,” you said in Steve’s voice. The color was drained from the man’s face as he saw himself in front of him. You looked at Maria with a slight nod, and she knew what you were asking for. She’s seen your powers with Fury.

“Jr, what program did Steve enter to receive the serum?”

“Project Rebirth. I was the only recipient of the serum developed by Abraham Erskine,” you answered. That was an easy question. An answer was easily found in his file or at the museum.

“What are we looking at here?” Rhodey asked. You looked back at Steve.

“Ask me something personal,” you spoke in your voice. He stared at you before his eyes landed on the soldier across from him.

“The fight where I first met Bucky, why did I pick a fight with them?” You smiled.

“They demanded a fee for crossing Tenth Avenue,” you wink before changing back. You watched as your skin bubbled, and then it stopped. “The director said you have someone in custody attending a party you need information from. I can get you that information.” Watching people learn what you could do was always interesting—a range of emotions passed through their faces- amazement, fear, worry.

“How long does it last?” Natasha questioned. She was looking at you with fear even though she masked it well.

“As long as I want it to,” you sat back down. “In 15 minutes, once I stop using it, all your thoughts, memories, and secrets leave my head.” You saw everyone relax.

“How did you get this ability?” You shrugged at Wanda’s question.

“I don’t know,” you traced the groves off the wood. “Not even the director knows. I guess it will forever be a mystery.”

Living and training with the Avengers challenged you. They pushed you harder in training, and you felt yourself growing stronger every day. However, they challenged you to be more social. You were an introvert by nature, afraid to gain the trust of those around you. Your mind might not remember what you were put through, but your body told a different story. Scars covered your body, which was then covered with tattoos.

The team was used to seeing you train in a long-sleeve shirt, never a tank top or sports bra like Natasha or Wanda. No matter how much sweat dripped down your back, you stayed in the long-sleeve shirt. It only came off when you were in the shower or the comfort of your room. They never asked, never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. They provided you with an extra bottle of water or a hug if you wanted one.

Early on, you also learned they were highly protective over you since you were the youngest full-time member. Even at the HYDRA party, that went well, and you retrieved the information they fused over you. To your surprise, they kept you on the team and didn’t send you back to SHIELD with Fury’s permission. You were enjoying your time with them, your secrets trapped away until they came tumbling out.

*

You thought you were in the clear. The rest of the team watched a movie, and you told everyone you were too tired. However, you left your room and headed to the training area. All you wanted to do was work up a sweat and then go to bed. So you punched at the sandbag, only wearing a sports bra and sweatpants—the rock music you played in your ears blocked out the world around you. You focused on how your knuckles ached at each punch and the beating of your heart behind your ribs. You loved training. It was a simple reminder that you were alive.

It happens on instinct. You felt a hand on your shoulder and grabbed it, flipping whoever it was over and onto their back. The culprit was Sam. You pulled your headphones out of your ears and heard the pained groan the man let out. “Fuck, Sam, you can’t sneak up on me.” You knelt in front of him. “What hurts? Do you want me to get Bruce? How many fingers am I holding up?” He groaned again.

“The only thing that hurts is my pride,” he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “I like your tattoos. I didn’t know you had any.” You sat down as your hand shook. You were so caught up on making sure he was okay that you forgot about the little clothes you were wearing. He saw them, all of them. Did he know what they meant? “Hey, jr, are you okay? You’re shaking.” You snapped out of it.

“I feel like I should be asking you that question,” you chuckled. He rolled his eyes and reassured you that he was fine. “But wait, aren’t you guys watching a movie? Why are you here?”

“We are watching a movie, and I suggested we have ice cream,” which was no surprise. The world’s mightiest heroes had the worst diets and the craziest sweet tooth. “I drew the short stick of finding you to see if you want any.” Sam stood up and rubbed his butt. “And my ass took one for the team.” You took his outstretched hand he offered you and helped you up. “So, do you want ice cream?”

“No, I’m good.” You wanted to get some air. He frowned.

“Are you sure? You never say no to ice cream. I’m not upset about what happened. We can keep it between us. Please.” You hated how easily it was for him to make you smile.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you began to unwrap your hands. “Have a good night, Sam.” You threw the tap in the trash can on your way out.

*

“Did she want any?” Natasha looked away from her bowl to see Sam without you. He shook his head. “The more of us!” Tony cheered. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Did you know Jr. has tattoos?” She heard Maria drop her spoon in the bowl, and the agent looked confused.

“How many?” Bucky asked. Sam was constructing his ice cream bowl. He topped it with whipped cream before he answered.

“Her entire right arm is covered. I couldn’t figure out what they were, but on her back was a portrait of Medusa.” Natasha’s stomach dropped. The ice cream she was eating no longer tasted sweet. It was bitter, and it made her stomach turn.

“Medusa?” Wanda questioned. “Are you sure?” Sam chuckled.

“Kind of hard to miss. It’s massive with all the snakes and shit. A little creepy if you ask me.”

“Why would she get a Medusa tattoo?” Rhodey asked. But Natasha knew. It seemed Wanda and Maria knew as well. The three girls dropped their bowls on the nearest surface and left the group. Each one ignored the shots of their names.

“FRIDAY, where is Jr?”

*

Your feet skimmed the water below. The cold summer air caused goosebumps to form on your arm. You had no reason to wear a jacket once you left the training area. If Sam knew everyone else was going to find out. “Hey, Jr,” Maria’s voice made you smile. “Can we join you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. Maria sat on your right and Wanda on your left. Natasha took the empty spot next to Maria. “They guys didn’t want to join you on a midnight walk.” You tried to joke.

“They are eating their weight in ice cream,” you heard the smile in Natasha’s voice. “I also don’t think they know what it means.” Right. The tattoo of Medusa is on your back, and her Roman story is detailed on your arm. Medusa was a devoted follower of Minerva. She left offerings and offerings to the goddess but was never acknowledged by her. Then, another god wanted her attention: Neptune. The god rapped Medusa in Minerva’s temple, and in revenge, the goddess turned Medusa’s beautiful head of hair into snakes.

“I don’t remember getting the tattoos,” you broke the silence. “I don’t remember much of my life before Nick found me.”

“He found you when you were 14, right?” Wanda questioned. You nodded.

“He says I had them when he found me,” you shivered and soon felt the jacket Maria was wearing around your shoulders. “He was in Ukraine, outside of Lviv, for a mission or something, when he found me in a field surrounded by dead bodies,” you played with the sleeves of the jacket. “We think they are the ones that hurt me. Nick took me in without hesitation. He saved my life,” you sighed, placing your head on Wanda’s shoulder. “I kept them hidden, not wanting people to question or bring attention to them.”

“You don’t have to hide them around us,” Maria said, slowly taking your hand in hers. “You can if you want, but we will never judge or hurt you like they did.”

“I could help you find answers if you ever want to know the truth,” Honestly, the truth scared you. You were already so broken. What if it broke you even more? “You are not broken,” Wanda whispered. It was hard for you to believe that.

“Sometimes I get flashes of what happened to me. Mostly in the form of nightmares. I’m not sure what’s worse than my body knows something bad happened to me, but my mind doesn’t remember it.”

“I think that you had to endure the pain, which is the worst,” Natasha spoke softly. You looked at the Black Widow, who was staring at the water. It was rare that her voice was that soft.

“Do you ever wonder why it was you?” you asked her. You watched her body shake as she exhaled. Maria placed her hand on Natasha’s thigh.

“All the time, but you’ll go mad thinking about the what ifs,” she glanced at you with a smile. “I’ve learned rather painfully that hiding away what happened or pretending it never happened hurts more in the long run.” The redhead placed her hand on top of Maria’s. “You aren’t broken, weak, or lesser because of what they did to you. You are stronger because you are still here despite all of it.” It was like she was telling you these things but reminding herself. You nodded and found yourself looking back at the water. The world was unfair, cruel, and twisted. These women, whom you grew to admire, knew the pain you experienced in some way and the story behind the tattoos that covered your body. How many others experienced it as well?

Hurried footsteps forced you to stand up and turn around. It was Bucky, and you were surprised by the force that he had hugged you, almost sending you into the water. Bucky was never known for his physical affection. He showed that he cared in much smaller ways, with a small smile and a cup of hot chocolate when you had nightmares. Even in training, he ensured your stance was correct and that you were training at your best. Now you weren’t sure if you could go a day without a hug from him. He was warm and strong, and you felt safe. “Do you know who did it?” Your body tensed.

“They are dead, Buck.”

“Good,” he kissed the top of your head. “I’d go Winter Solider on their asses for you, doll.” You laughed and shook your head. “Also, sorry about this.” Before you could question his meaning, he picked you up and threw you into the water. You breached the surface with a gasp.

“What the-”

“Cannonball,” you heard Tony yell. It was the only warning you got as the billionaire ran down the dock and jumped into the water. The splash wet those on the edge, and you heard Natasha yell at him. He resurfaced and shook the water.

“I am sorry, darling,” you watched Vision pick up Wanda.

“Vis, no! No!” But it was useless. The android dropped her into the water next. You laughed, the sound echoing into the night. Bucky smiled, gave you a salute, and jumped in. One by one, the team entered the water by either being thrown in or jumping themselves.

A massive water fight broke out, and FRIDAY brightened the surrounding area so everyone could see. You weren’t sure how long the team was in the water, but you were the last one floating on your back. “Hey, Jr,” you looked at Natasha. A towel was wrapped around her shoulders. “We are having smores. Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” you swam over to the dock and pulled yourself up. Natasha put her arm around you.

“I’m proud of you.” You smiled.

“I’m proud of you too.” Yes, the world was evil, cruel, and dark, but your family made it a little brighter.

#avengers x reader #nick fury x reader #maria hill x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #bucky barens x reader

[rafesfavgirl]

little old me — r. cameron

soooooo my deepest, darkest, most impulsive thoughts may have won over with this one. hopefully you like it or at the very least, understand why i wrote it :)

❝ who’s afraid of little old me? you should be. ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x dark!reader

context: rafe comes to realize you’re more like him than he thought.

words: 3k+

warnings: definitely +18. mdni. murder, dark!rafe, psycho!rafe, psycho!reader, jealousy, possessive behavior, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sub!rafe (kind of, but not really), choking, praise kink, cutting, stabbing, blood, violence, blood play (idek if it counts tbh), dark fluff (is that even a thing?), SMUT with fucked up plot… rafe and reader being crazy, basically

you stood by the bar beside your best friend, engaged in conversation about some guy who'd pissed her off today by standing her up on a date, your eyes focused on the scene behind her head, where your boyfriend sat on the couch in the living room, a girl with short brown hair beside him, trying to cling onto his arm.

you feel your grip around your glass tighten, as the girl's hand gets closer and closer to wrapping around rafe's bicep.

"do you know who that girl is?" you cut your best friend off in the middle of her sentence and she snaps her head to what or who you're looking at.

"oh, that's sofia," she tells you, taking a sip of her drink. "she works as a bartender at the club. always flirting with top, kelce, and rafe. why? you jealous?"

heat rises in your chest at the mention of the girl constantly flirting with rafe, but you play it off. "please," a scoff leaves your mouth. "you know he knows better."

you take sip of your drink, and pull out your phone to text rafe.

you: if that sofia girl touches you one more time, i stg i'm dragging her ass across the floor

rafe: chill baby

rafe: you won't

you click your tongue and type away, your best friend watching your every move.

"you good?" she asks.

"mhm," you hum, sending the message.

you: you think i'm kidding?

you: try me, bitch.

you look up to find rafe snickering at your text, which only pisses you off more as he texts you back.

rafe: shut the fuck up, and get over here.

you: fuck no. tell her my drink's empty.

rafe watches as you down the rest of your drink and set the glass down on the bar, before waltzing away and heading outside, throwing him a glare as you do. he rolls his eyes at your antics, but gets up to follow you anyway.

“where the fuck are you going?” he calls after you, trailing closely behind as you cross the front lawn. “you came here with me.”

“i’ll call an uber,” you reply, continuing to walk towards the road. “go back and inside and let sofia touch you some more.”

“oh my god,” he groans and catches up to you, grabbing onto your wrist to make you stop and look at him. “will you quit being a brat?”

you tilt your head up at him, fire in your eyes as they lock with his. “and what are you gonna do if i don’t?”

—

a moan slips out of your mouth as your back hits rafe's bedroom door, making it slam shut—thank god, his family had gone to the bahamas—as he kissed you like a man starved.

"still got more to say about sofia?" he says against you, lips trailing down to your neck, and hands trailing up your thighs to hook them around his waist. "jump."

you do as your told, your legs locking around him and your fingers tangling into his hair, as your lips connected again and rafe's hands trailed up your back—one pressing you against him and one sliding up your hair.

he turns and lets you fall onto the bed with him above you, your legs still locked around him, as he began untying the knot in your shirt. he pushes it off of you, revealing your lacy white bra.

"fuckkk y/n," he groans, hand reaching up to grab at one of your tits.

"you like it baby?" you ask, as he trails wet kisses down your neck and collar bone. "it's new."

"i love it," he says, fingers unclasping it from the front, and lips moving to wrap around your now exposed nipple.

his other hand massages your other boob, finger flicking at your sensitive nub.

you pull him up to attach his lips back to yours. "i want you, rafe. now."

he chuckles against your lips, the vibration turning you on more, the spot between your legs getting wetter. you flip the both of you over so you're straddling him. 

"i like this side of you, doll," he looks up at you with a smirk as you rid yourself of your bra, and he reaches up to grab both your tits. "should make you jealous more often."

"shut up," you say, leaning back down to kiss him, hands entwining into his hair as your hips press down into his.

a groan falls from his mouth as his hands roam over your body, your hard nipples pressing against him.

"need you, pretty girl," he said, hips lifting into yours.

"more than sofia?" you ask, pulling your lips away from his.

"more than anyone," he replies, hands snaking around the front of your waist to unbutton your shorts.

you move to the side so he can tug them off your legs, along with your lacy white thong, while you reach to pull his shirt off his head and he takes off his shorts.

you swing your leg back over him once you're both naked, hovering and grinding your hips above him, slickness coating his dick just enough to tease him.

"doll, come on," he whines, attempting to press you down onto his length.

you place both your hands on his chest and lean down towards his ear. "this'll teach you not to make me jealous."

"y/n…" his voice is much serious now, and you smirk.

"what?" you look at him with innocent eyes, hand trailing down to grab his dick and align it with your center.

you slowly sink down onto him, your body relaxing as he groans.

"so so good," you mewl, hips rocking against his.

he watches you closely, hands moving to grip your hips. he lifts you up slightly and slams you back down, eliciting a moan from your mouth.

"move, pretty girl," he demands, eyes locked on yours as you sit up. "let me see you ride me."

you give in to his words and begin bouncing your ass on him, hands trailing down to his abs to steady yourself. up. down. up. down. up. down.

"just like that, doll," rafe says, hand trailing up your body to wrap around your neck. "you look so pretty riding my cock."

that only makes you pick up the pace, hands moving to rest on his thighs behind you, as your pussy clenches around his length, your orgasm quickly building up in your core. rafe's hands move to grab your tits as you continue, his eyes watching himself slip in and out of you.

"you gonna cum for me, baby?" he asked when you threw your head back in pleasure.

"cum with me, rafe," you moan, your high inching closer and closer.

his fingers pinch at your nipples and that sends you over the edge, your hips slowing down as your high washes over you. rafe follows soon after, thrusts getting sloppier as he comes down.

 you slowly move off to lay beside him, and he reaches out to open the drawer of his nightstand and pull out a small towel. he uses it to clean the spot between your legs before cleaning off himself.

you position yourself under his comforter as he tosses the towel on the ground and joins you.

"remember how good my pussy feels around you next time you let sofia touch you," you say, snuggling into him.

a small chuckles falls from his lips as he wraps an arm around you and places a soft kiss on your forehead. "good night, crazy girl."

—

your eyes shoot open at the sound of rafe’s phone incessantly buzzing on the nightstand, as the sunshine peeked through his bedroom curtains.

making sure not to wake him, you reach over to grab his phone, rage boiling through your veins when you read the notifications on the screen.

3 missed calls from sofia.

sofia: hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday lol. lmk if you need to blow off some steam ;) xx

“oh, this bitch needs to be put down,” you mutter to yourself, immediately unlocking rafe’s phone—he gave you his passcode months ago without you even asking—and typing away to reply to sofia's message.

rafe: hey sof :) yeah, she's a lot. how 'bout you meet me at tannyhill around 2 today?

you hit send, and the three bubbles appear almost immediately.

god, this bitch was desperate.

sofia: perf, i'll see you then!!

rafe: just knock when you get here, i'll be home alone

sofia: you got it, see u later xx

you roll your eyes and proceed to delete the conversation, before moving to rafe's phone app to remove her 3 missed calls from his log. 

three. who calls a guy with a girlfriend three times? crazy bitch.

just as you're about to place his phone back on the nightstand, rafe groans and shifts, arm slinging over your waist, as a call from ward vibrates his phone.

"baby," you nudge rafe, but he just groans again, arm around your waist tightening. "rafe," you shake him this time and his eyes flutter open.

"morning, pretty girl," he smiles, hand scratching your lower back. "you ok?"

"mhm," you nod, pretending you had just woken up. "woke up from your dad calling, though."

you hold the phone out to him, which was now vibrating for the second time with ward's name.

"sorry 'bout that, doll," he takes the phone from you and sits up, answering the call and pressing the phone up against his ear.

"i'm gonna go pee," you mouth to him, and he nods, as you get out from under the covers and slip on rafe's shirt before walking towards his bathroom.

you close the door behind you and take a quick piss before washing your hands and deciding to brush your teeth.

hopefully rafe wasn't gonna be around the house at 2 today, you thought. you knew he went out golfing with the boys and hit the gym afterwards every saturday afternoon, usually returning around 5 or 6, so it shouldn't be a problem. unless ward had him do something today that required him to stick around the house—now that would really put a damper on your plans.

the door opens and rafe joins you, only wearing a pair of boxers. "mmm," he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder. "i'll never get sick of seeing you in my shirt."

his eyes meets yours through the mirror, and you lean down to spit and rinse your mouth.

"what's my baby doing today?" he asked, as you wiped your mouth dry.

"probably just hang around here," you shrug, hands trailing along his arms, as you leaned your head against his. "maybe lay out by the pool for a bit and make some lunch."

"for me too?"

you look down at him, and his eyes meet yours. "you're not going golfing with kelce and top?"

"oh, i am," he nods. "and i gotta take care of some stuff for dad too, so i'll probably be home a little later." perfect. "how 'bout we do dinner? you can dress up all cute and sexy, and i'll take you out on the town?"

"sounds perfect, baby," you smile, connecting your lips with his.

this was gonna be the best day ever.

—

after rafe left around eleven, you occupied yourself by taking a quick swim in the pool, before settling on a floatie and closing your eyes, as the sun beat down on your skin.

ring! ring! ring!

your alarm clock goes off at 1:50 pm, and you open your eyes to take your phone from the cup holder and silence it, happily slipping off the floatie when you realize it's almost time.

you grab your towel from one of the pool chairs and dry off before wrapping it around you, slipping on your crochet shorts, and waltzing inside with more of a pep in your step than usual.

you whistle as you walk through the house and stop in the living room to hang your towel off the back of the armchair and sit down, just in time for a knock to come at the door.

it's followed by another, before the front door creaks open and closes, as the sound of someone's footsteps get closer and closer.

"rafe?" the sound of sofia's voice fills your ears and you smile when she reaches the living room.

"hey, sof," you say, causing her to completely stop in her tracks, a few feet away.

"oh, y/n," she was clearly caught off guard. "i didn't know you'd be here."

"of course you didn't," you shrug, sitting up. "because you came here to see my rafe, isn't that right, sof?"

"uhh…"

"no need to lie, sweetheart," you drawl. "i've been expecting you." you pull out the pocket knife that you had stashed in the armchair earlier  to prepare and spin it around in your fingers.

the color instantly drains from sofia's face, as you flip the knife open, the blade catching the sun's light.

"here's the thing, sof," you stand up and slowly approach her, the growing crazy look in your eyes making her uneasy. "i'm a very possessive person, and i don't like sharing what's mine." you shake your head, eyes focused on hers.

"and rafe… tall and handsome as he is… is mine," you glide the edge of your knife across her collarbone as you round her, making sure not to cut her just yet. "and personally, i didn't take it very well when you called and texted him this morning."

"i- i don't know what you're talking about," her voice shakes, clearly afraid of what you might do if she admits to it. 

"hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday. let me know if you want to blow off some steam," you recite the text message she sent rafe from memory, making her breath hitch.

"that— that wasn't an accident," sofia shakes her head. "i didn't mean-"

"oh, baby," you whisper against her ear, making her head turn towards you. "don't you know i hate liars?"

"please," sofia begs, eyes closing shut as tears stream down her face. "y/n… you don't have to do this."

"and you didn't have to text my man," you tut, trailing the knife down her back. "but you did, so i'll make it quick."

"no!" she shouts, pushing you away from her, and beelining for the door.

"you really shouldn't have done that," you chuckle, a smirk coming across your lips, as you follow to tackle her before she reaches the door.

you turn her around, so you're straddling her, both your knees pinning her arms down. "i tried to be nice…" you say, gripping a handful of her brown hair as you lean down to cut across her collar bone.

she screams in agony. "stop, stop, stop!"

"consider this a lesson, sof…" you trail off, knife moving down to dig into the side of her stomach. "rafe," stab. "is," stab. "mine." 

you pull the knife out from her side, blood splattering on your stomach, as you drag it up her body, towards her chest.

"and," stab. "you," stab. "don't," stab. "take," stab. "what's," stab. "mine."

the color drowns from her face as her eyes turn lifeless, and she stops squirming underneath you.

at this point, your chest, face, legs, and arms are covered with blood splatters, your hand holding the knife bloodier than any other part of you.

you stand up and hover over her, a smirk coming across your lips at the sight of her dead body.

"look, dad, i took care of it, a'ight?" the familiar sound of your boyfriend's voice booms through the house, as you hear the backyard door slide close.

shit. shit. shit.

he wasn't suppose to be home until later. what the fuck was he doing here?

panic begins to build up inside you, as rafe's footsteps approach you, and you round sofia's body to pick up one of her hands to begin dragging her towards the front door. maybe it was a good thing she tried to run.

"yeah, i got it," you hear rafe's voice again. "i think y/n's taking a nap right now, so i'll take the druthers out and-" he suddenly stops in the entryway connecting the living room to the kitchen, eyes on you. "i'll call you back later."

he ends the call with ward, phone coming down to his side.

"i told you i'd drag her across the floor?" you joke, shrugging a shoulder.

"holy shit, y/n!" rafe rushes over and crouches down to feel sofia's pulse.

nothing.

he looks up at you. "did you do this?!"

"no…" you give him your innocent eyes, and drop her hand, pocket knife hiding behind your back.

"what the fuck, babe?"

"hey, don't act like this is all on me!" you argue, pointing down at sofia's body and pacing around the room. "she was the one who was texting and calling you nonstop this morning! she should've known better! no one takes what's mine. especially not you!"

"you— you did this… because of me?" rafe slowly stands, eyes refocusing on your crazed out state.

"of course i did," your shoulders falling limp. "i— i love you, rafe!" you shake your head. "i— i can't lose you. not-"

before you could get another word out, he was pushing you up against the wall, lips hungrily kissing yours.

the knife clatters onto the ground, as your bloodied hands tangle into his hair, and he hooks a hand around your thigh to bring it up beside his waist.

"you— you're not mad?" you ask between kisses.

"are you kidding?" he mutters against you. "fuck no. just a little more work for me."

"wait, wait, wait—" you place a hand on his chest, and push him away just enough to look at him. "what does that mean?"

"there may or may not be a dead body in the cargo bed of my truck…"

"you killed someone?"

"it was necessary?" he shrugs, a cute little smile on his lips.

a laugh falls from your mouth before you can stop it.

"what?" rafe asks, chuckling at the sound of your adorable laugh.

you shake your head, hand trailing down his hair. "we're so fucked up."

"and that's just how i like it."

i hope y'all don't think i'm absolutely insane now lolz. i swearrrrr i just wanted to try something new.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov

#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe ob #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #dark rafe #crazy rafe #dark reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe and reader being partners in crime #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe fic #obx fit #outer banks fic

[luvyeni]

p. bsf!sohee x fem!reader | warnings: voyeurism (?), blowjob, allusions to sex | words: 0.8k ~ (854) 💂‍♂️ㆍ₊⊹

request: sohee smut pleaseeee 🫶🏻?

authors note. here you go lovey🩵

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

living in the ages of various streaming services; you barely made it out to go the movies; opting to wait until it came on tv— avoiding spoilers on tiktok so you could peacefully watch it the comforts of your own home; you just really didn’t enjoy the inside movie theater— so imagine your surprise when your best friends basically kidnaped you to drag you to a random drive in movie theater.

“sohee are you serious?” you scoffed as you pulled into the almost empty theater, the other three cars probably containing couples who want to fuck or teens needing a place to get high— or both. “what?” he smiled. “i thought it would be fun.”

the teenager who probably wanted a job but didn’t want to do any work sat scrolling on his phone. “this place is like 100 years old, and i doubt that popcorn is any good.” you pointed. “don’t worry I got us covered.” he pointed to the back seat, a bag full of snacks and drinks. “just gotta tune the radio so we can hear the movie.” he said. “cheer up, it will be fun.”

you decided to give it a try and not be so pessimistic— grabbing a blanket to cover yourself, grabbing some chips and a beer. “you know, most people don’t come to these things.” sohee said; munching on some chips. “yeah.” you laugh. “as you can see these three cars here besides ours and that car has been rocking for the past 20 minutes and there’s smoke coming out that one.” you pointed it out. “and i think that one is abandoned.”

he look around pouting; he really wanted to try something new with you. “don’t be too upset, you know i don’t like these types of things, but this isn’t all that bad so i give you props.” you reached over, pinching his cheek. “good job.” he smiled, stuffing his face some more with his favorite trip.

a few more minutes past of watching the movie when you heard a loud moan. “oh my god.” you let out a snort. “told you.” you turned to your friend, who’s neck was now red. “aw is our little sohee getting excited hearing the couples have sex.” he scratched the back of his neck. “sh-shut up.” You laughed. “you are!” you exclaimed, he whined covering his face. “is that why you invited me out here to live out you voyeur fantasies, pervert.”

sohee felt himself chub up in his pants, your words along with the moaning was doing unimaginable things to him. “it is hot, isn’t it?” you said. “he seems to really be giving it to her.” you smirked, seeing his hand come up to cover his hard on. “y-yn.” you placed your hand on his knee. “please don’t.”

“you don’t want me to touch you?” you tilted your head teasingly. “the movie still has 30 minutes left, are you gonna sit there palming your cock to the couple fucking next to us or are you gonna let me suck you off?” he moved his hand, heavily breathing; he couldn’t believe his best friend was about to suck him off. “lift your hips up.”

he lifted his hips, letting you pull out his cock, his tip dark red, dripping with pre-cum. “shit, hearing them fuck made you this hard, you really are a little perv aren’t you?” he let out a loud whimper as your hand wrapping around his length. “its kind of pathetic.” You squeezed his cock. “oh fuck! please don’t do that.” he moaned out.

“why?” you pouted, leaning over;;kissing his tip. “you gonna cum just from me squeezing your cock.” you squeezed it again, gripped the arm of the chair. “really pathetic hee.”

you finally put the boy out his misery, putting his cock into your mouth. “fu-fuck.” he moaned. “yo-your mouth is.” he gasped, unable to speak barely as you bobbed your head, jerking off what you couldn’t speak. “oh fuck your so good.” his head was thrown back, his hand coming to your head softly, caressing it. “sh-shit.”

it was messy, the noises from your mouth as you gagged on his cock will fuel him with jerk off material for mouth. “fuck yn im gonna cum, please get of.” you pulled off of him, looking at him in the eyes, stroking his cock. “come on hee, look at me.” you purred, the boy forced himself to look at you. “good boy.”

“come on cum for me, want you to cum in my mouth.” you put your mouth on his tip, sucking as you stroked the rest of his cock. “shit im cumming.” His hand slapped against the window. “ngh fuck!” he shouted, his cum spurting from his cock, hitting your tongue. “shit.”

you let him finish, pull off of him, swallowing his sticky substance. “yo-you didn’t have to.” but you weren’t listening, taking off your shirt, climbing into his lap, feeling his cock twitch against your clothed cunt. “just pay me back.” you kissed him. “h-how.”

“theres still 20 minutes left, let’s see how many times your cock can make me cum.”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #riize x reader #riize smut #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize drabbles #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #sohee hard hours #sohee smut #sohee scenarios #sohee x reader

[norrizzandpia]

hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.

i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.

even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.

I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)

Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING

Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason

Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.

That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.

Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.

She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”

She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”

He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”

“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”

Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”

He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”

With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.

She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.

Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.

“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.

She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.

“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”

She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”

He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.

She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.

She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”

He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”

Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.

When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”

He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”

Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”

He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”

She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”

He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.

—

She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.

Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.

He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”

Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”

His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”

If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.

“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.

He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”

She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”

Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”

More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”

It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.

“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”

He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.

However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.

A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?

Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piasstri #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81 #op #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #op81 x you #op81 smut #op81 angst

[h4ndwr1tten]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

featuring: roommate!satoru x reader

cw: fluff really, strong language? kinda suggestive.

the sudden, thundering sound of what seemed to be a crash had you jolting awake. you immediately sat upright and reached over to your lamp, switching it on and scanning your room on high alert. glancing over at your digital alarm clock, you found that it was only 1:03 in the winter morning. what kind of asshole would partake in destructing something this late?

the first person to come into mind was satoru, your roommate. he tends to stay up as late as possible doing the most random and stupid shit he could thing of. once, you caught him trying to fit himself into the shared washing machine at 3 am. but you remembered that earlier, you were going to confront him about how he left his used boxers and socks on the bathroom floor after his shower. when you stormed into his room, however, he was surprisingly in deep sleep.

so if satoru was slumped, where did the noise come from?

you debated leaving your bed for your safety or staying there, also for your safety, but ultimately decided on quickly checking the apartment for something unusual. quietly groaning, you forced yourself out of bed and into the hallway.

you hadn't found anything out of the ordinary, making you firmly believe it was an inconsiderate neighbor. nothing felt off and you weren't experiencing any sense of doom, so you returned to your bed and knocked right out.

only, an hour later, you woke up freezing. your room felt like pure ice and your body felt like you had been dipped into an ice bath. when did it get so damn cold? you thought, pulling your blanket higher up your body. it was snowing outside, but the cold shouldn't have been able to be felt with the heater on.

you tried to go back to sleep, but you only found yourself shivering despite the blanket. you rubbed your legs together in an attempt to warm you up, but it didn't seem to work. you huffed, irritated and uncomfortable by the temperature change.

getting up for the second time, you threw your blanket over your shoulders and went into the hallway to check the thermostat. there, you found satoru, also checking the temperature.

"cold?" he asked, his voice raspy from probably having been woken up to the same thing.

you hummed in response, watching silently as he tried to figure out what was wrong. he tapped at a few times, pressed the buttons every second, until he noticed that the temperature of the heater wasn't changing.

"it's broken."

oh.

"what? the thermostat?" you question, a little densely, but to be fair, it was 2 in the morning.

"no, the heater," satoru replied, tapping at his lips in thought.

that made a lot more sense. the weather from antarctica couldn't have just magically moved in with you. but did this have to do with the loud bang from earlier?

"satoru," you begin, "i woke up an hour ago because there was a bang, but i checked and nothing seemed broken inside here."

satoru hummed, turning away from the wall and to you. he opened his mouth to speak and you anticipated it, but instead, you watched as his eyes trailed down your frame, eyes falling onto your body. he was silent for a few seconds, visibly gulping. his face felt warm. could you see his pink-tinted cheeks in the dim lighting?

clearing his throat, satoru turned away and pretended to observe the thermostat, mumbling, "yeah, that might have... that might've been it."

confused, you look down at your body to find what elicited his behavior. it took you a second, but you noticed your hardened nipples poking out through your shirt. you forgot that was a thing. your eyes widened and you quickly folded your arms and blanket over your chest, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

"what do we do now?" you asked, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

"how many blankets do you have?"

fuck, they're all in the laundry.

"one."

satoru side-eyed you, slowly turning to face you, his face deadpan.

"they're in the laundry!" you raised your hands in defense, effectively dropping the blanket to the ground.

it seemed to have caught satoru's attention because of the way his eyes moved down to the ground. then slowly up your figure, as if drinking in every part of you. your arms were still hiding your chest and you didn't look all that great right now, considering you were only in pajama pants and a baggy tee. but the way he looked at you made you feel like it was more than just the attire.

you shifted your weight onto one foot, warmth creeping up your neck. you had always felt some sort of attraction towards your roommate, but considering how insanely attractive he was, you thought that he would never even think of seeing you the same way.

but gosh, the way he eyed you like the most valuable treasure there ever was. the way there seemed to be a sort of want, desire burning in his eyes. that was enough to make you question his feelings.

"satoru?" you call, growing antsy under his gaze.

"sleep in my room," he suggests casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"what...?"

he sighed, probably wondering if you were stupid, or deaf, or both. "the heating's down, and it's only going to get colder from here. i say that because we are both mature, grown adults, we sleep in the same bed because right now, shared body heat is likely the only thing that's going to keep us from freezing."

you were stunned, to say the least. that's the most and longest sensible thing to come out of satoru's mouth ever. had he thought of this before?

"i guess you're right," you mumbled, face flushed. "but wouldn't it be awkward?"

"it'll only be awkward if you make it awkward," satoru retorted, opening the door to his room and waiting for you to enter. "we're mature, right?"

you walked into his ridiculously messy room, sighing, "i am, but i don't know about you."

"hey!"

you flopped down onto satoru's bed, a lingering warmth around it from before he got up. your heart began to beat a little faster as he approached the bed, the fact that you were actually about to sleep with someone you've dreamed of sleeping with before.

"y/n?" satoru called out, breaking your stare at the floor.

"yeah?"

"that's my side of the bed."

you blush furiously, scrambling to the opposite side, muttering, "oh, sorry."

but once you were there, satoru goes, "that's also my side."

you snap your head at him, glaring. "what do you mean, this is also your side?"

"i sleep in the middle."

"are you serious?" you sigh, growing uncomfortable.

"yep," satoru said, popping the p and sprawling out across the bed like a starfish. his once (and extremely rare) seriousness was gone, and he was back to his irritating antics.

you sat at the very edge of the bed, nearly sliding off, uncomfortable in the silence. satoru's eyes were closed and his breathing seemed to have relaxed, and you wondered if he was asleep. you wondered if he really meant what he said by sharing the bed too.

"satoru?" you murmured, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"mph?"

standing up, you uttered, "i can just go back to my room, i don't wanna bother you. i'll get warm eventually."

you weren't lying. even though sleeping in his bed felt like a really good idea, both for your comfort and desire, you would hate to be a bother to him.

peeking an eye open, satoru reached for your hand and grasped it, pulling you back down.

"i'm joking, y/n," he sighed, slightly muffled by his pillows. "get in here."

he fixed his position, then opened his blanket to beckon you in. you frowned, snapping, "you basically just said there's no room for me after suggesting we share the bed."

despite that, you still found yourself crawling into the warmth of his sheets. you kept yourself at the edge, though, still afraid of taking up his personal space.

it's quiet for a moment again. you raise the blanket just up to the underside of your nose, nervously picking at the pillowcase. his scent engulfed you; a mix of his cologne and natural musk, with a faint hint of detergent. you realize this is real.

satoru sighs, and to your surprise, he throws his arm around your torso and pulls you into him, your back now pressed against his front. he doesn't take off his arm, but instead, gently runs his cold hand along your stomach as if comforting you.

"i was just messing with you," he mumbles, drowsiness in his voice. "but i'm sorry, you big baby."

realizing what he said, you elbowed him in the ribs, but not too hard to actually hurt him. satoru let out a fake whine, both of you laughing quietly after.

silence fills the two of you, the only noises being shared breathing and city noise from outside. it's quiet, but it's comfortable.

you roll over onto your other side to face satoru, finding him with his eyes already shut and brows barely pinched. even in the dark, you can still make out the outline of his perfect features, from his long lashes to his cold-nipped lips. you'd trace them if you could, but you refrained out of fear of waking him up and the fact that you were in no position to be touching him like that.

"i can feel you staring at me," satoru mumbles, fatigued huskiness in his voice.

you blush, grateful for the lack of light in the room, whispering an apology.

satoru opens his eyes, a faint smile sitting atop his lips. "i know i'm insanely handsome, but sleep," he teased.

"i was actually looking at that fat, glow in the dark pimple on your forehead, but okay," you snort, scooting in closer to satoru's warmth.

his hand darts to his forehead, yelping, "actually??"

you giggle, "no. sleep."

"you suck," he sighs, chuckling before bringing his hand back to around you.

you slowly slide your arm under his and wrap it around his torso, your nerves and hesitation fading when he doesn't make a move to remove you. satoru whispers a goodnight, lips ever so slightly brushing against your forehead. you whisper it back, and sleep comes over the both of you.

maybe the heater should stay broken...

note — gave up on my layout D:

m. list

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff

[bratzforchris]

Inked Daisies (Chapter 2)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 1 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking (reader and the triplets are 22 here), characters walking in on each other showering, nsfw content (no actual sex), a few uses of y/n (sometimes it's inevitable, y'all :P)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Y'all are about to kill me for this cliffhanger 🤗

“You’re here!” Chris smiled, throwing open the door. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It was yesterday, Chris,” You giggled. “Now let us in so we don’t drop your dinner.”

“Us?” the youngest triplet asked you, cocking his head to the side. 

Chris opened the front door wider to reveal Matt standing behind you, clearly annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t been let into his own home yet. You were holding a box of breadsticks and drinks from your favorite local pizza place while Matt carried the four boxes of pizza. Despite your protests that you could carry the pizza, the boy had refused, saying that he could do it because it was him and his brothers that could easily slam a whole pizza each by themselves. Secretly, you just thought it was cute that Matt wanted to help you, despite his “tough guy” façade. 

“You guys came together?” a look of what could have been confusion, but also something else flashed across Chris’ face. 

“You’re wack if you think I’m leaving her downtown alone at night. She’s too trusting; it’s like a puppy.” Matt murmured, shoving past you and Chris and into the house. 

“Uh oh, Mattitude’s out now.” whatever expression had been on your best friend’s face was gone now, leaving you with the happy, sunny Chris you had always known.

“Out now? It’s always out.” You laughed, making your way into the kitchen you were all too familiar with.

“I heard that.” 

You giggled to yourself, sitting the boxes down on the island. Breathing in the familiar scent of the boys’ home, any trace of the unease you had felt at Matt’s earlier demeanor disappeared. The triplets had been your best friends since high school, and not much had changed now that you were all adults, other than the fact that your hangouts were less frequent. Just like old times, you all piled onto the couch with your plates of pizza and drinks, scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch. 

You had sandwiched yourself between Nick and Chris, while Matt sat at the other end of the couch, silently eating his pizza and scrolling through his phone. You didn’t take the silence personally, though. After the conversation at the shop about the man who was making his job more difficult, you couldn’t blame the brunette for wanting a break. Though you weren’t as close with Matt as with the other two brothers, you still cared deeply for him. If that meant him being a little more quiet in order to rest, you didn’t mind it. 

You turned towards Nick, snatching the leftover crust off his plate. “The stickers are selling well.” You stated, taking a sip of your Fanta. 

Being close friends with a graphic designer as a business owner definitely had its perks; for example, the small, cartoon-style flower stickers that read “One Trick Peony” had sold out within three hours of your shop being open for the past week since you’d started stocking them. Despite his busy job as one of the most reputable graphic designers in Los Angeles, Nick still found time to prioritize your business. The stickers had been just one of the hit merchandise pieces he’d supplied you with. 

“Do you know what you should sell?” Chris added, poking your cheek and then smiling when you looked at him fondly. “Alcohol. Lavender martinis would sell like crazy in a flower shop.”

“I’m not getting a liquor license,” You snorted. “Besides, I don’t even think the store has enough room for a bar.”

“Who said anything about a bar? All you need is a bartender.” Chris hummed, pulling you into his lap. 

It was true. Chris had become quite skilled in his ability to make drinks any and everywhere over the past year since he’d gotten his bartender certification. In your opinion, the job was perfect for him. The fast-paced, fun environment and the amount of money you could make if you were entertaining and talkative was right up the brunette’s alley. His good nature made it pretty normal for him to come home on any given Friday night with about 600 dollars in cash. 

You snuggled into your best friend’s chest, breathing in his boyish scent happily. “Maybe one day we can open a flower and brunch place with a bar.” You told him. 

“You guys hear that? I’m the one Y/N wants to run a business with.” Chris chuckled, sticking his tongue out at the other two triplets. 

“Just wait til she figures out how you actually act,” Nick grumbled, pressing play on the movie you all had decided on. “Now be quiet.”

Before looking over at the movie, you turned your eyes towards Matt. He was still withdrawn into himself, curled into the L-shaped corner of the couch now. He had put his phone down, though, and in a feat of chance, turned to look at you at the exact same moment. Matt cocked his head like he wanted to ask you a question, but then shook his head, averting his eyes. You shrugged, figuring it still had to do with the exhaustion and stress from earlier in the day, but you couldn’t help but notice the feeling growing in your tummy at the thought that Matt had been looking at you first.

One terrible, low-budget movie later, you sat up out of Chris’ hold and looked around the living room. Nick had abandoned the movie in favor of his laptop, seemingly editing some sort of advertisement. That was just his personality. If something recreational didn’t immediately capture his attention, he was back to working his ass off. Maybe that was what made him such a successful entrepreneur, but either way, you admired him for helping people bring their dreams for their designs to fruition. Chris was scrolling through his phone, every now and then migrating into his work group chat to chuckle at the stories his fellow bartenders had to share about cutting someone off for the night. Matt, on the other, had fallen asleep, chin resting in his hand. You felt rather bad for him; January was always a stressful month for tattoo artists and piercers because people had Christmas money and gift cards, and they wanted their modifications to be healed by summer time. 

“I’m gonna shower,” You told your two (awake) best friends, standing up and stretching. “Do you guys mind?” 

“You know that’s like asking to shower in your own home, right?” Chris stood up behind you, tickling your sides. 

“It’s…still…the polite thing to do!” You laughed, gasping for breath at the tickling. 

“But yes, we don’t care. Go ahead.” Chris placed a friendly kiss on the back of your head. 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and your best friends to share platonic cheek kisses, cuddles, and hugs, but it didn’t make your heart any less happy. You smiled, making your way to Matt’s bathroom. You had kept shower stuff at the triplets’ home ever since the four of you had moved to LA. After all, you were at their house almost more than you were at your apartment. You trekked towards Matt’s bathroom since it was the closest to the living room. You knew he wouldn’t mind, especially because A) he was asleep and B) you’d done it before. 

You warmed the water up, ridding yourself of your clothes from the day, and stepping into the steamy heaven. You didn’t bother locking the door, knowing that on the off chance Matt did wake up, Chris and Nick would inform him that you were using his bathroom. You began to wash your hair, letting the rose scent of your shampoo fill the bathroom as you massaged your scalp, washing away the worries of both a busy day at your business, and the odd encounters you’d been having with the middle triplet all evening. You were so caught up in thinking that you didn’t even hear the doorknob to the bathroom turn as Matt stepped into the bathroom. 

Matt knew he shouldn’t have. You were one of his closest friends. There was no way he should be watching you showering. It was weird and wrong on so many levels, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from your body. You looked peaceful, head thrown back under the water and eyes closed, soft moans escaping your lips as you relaxed. The way the warm water and soap suds caressed your body and curves as they cascaded into the drain made him think about what other white substances would look like dripping down your body in the shower. 

What the fuck? Why was he thinking about railing you? You two weren’t even that close and he didn’t like you like that. Still, Matt couldn’t deny the tightening in his cock at the image of you in front of him, and the image of you in his mind. He told himself that it was just because he hadn’t been laid in so long, but the brunette couldn’t help the soft groan that made its way out of his mouth. 

At the sound, your eyes flew open, head turning towards the door. “Matt?” You futilely tried to cover yourself, knowing it was useless. Matt had already seen it all. 

“Fuck, I…uh, fuck–Y/N, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, clearing his throat. “I was just coming to brush my teeth and Nick and Chris didn’t tell me you were…in here.”

You shut the water off quickly, grabbing the towel you’d thrown over the side of the glass door and wrapping it around your body. “Shit, I’m sorry, Matt. I should’ve locked the door.”

“It’s um, it’s fine,” Matt coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red. “I’m just gonna…grab my toothbrush and use Chris’ bathroom tonight. ‘S all yours in here.”

You watched as Matt grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and scrambled out of the bathroom. You were still standing in the draining shower, dripping wet and shivering. Part of you couldn’t believe that one of your best male friends had seen you showering, but for some reason, another part of you wasn’t mad about it. Unbeknownst to you, though, Matt was feeling the same way in his cold shower downstairs. 

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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