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#and lanas like i panicked what do you want from me
detective-gum-chew · 2 years
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you know what, i'll defend ema's "intellectually attracted" comment because everyone assumes its her like, denying lanamia, but to be honest thats such specific phrasing that ten to one i think its something that lana said to her, where in a conversation lana was like
"man i hope mia's attracted to me" and then panicked in that way where youre like wait i didnt mean to Come Out like that and was like "uhh,,, intellectually attracted of course! ahahaha."
and young ema was like "okay!" and just internalized that and didnt question it because why would she question her cool older sister who she looks up to so much.
then it never came up until lana was in the detention center and ema was like oh! i can be helpful! in that little sister type way and hopped in like "intellectually attracted of course!"
and is too busy thinking i'm going to get a good grade in little sister (something normal to want and possible to achieve) because i said it the way lana said it :) to notice phoenix and lana sharing a Look like "she doesnt know im gay mr wright."
Then like five years later Ema's sipping coffee on a random morning, and realizes "wait what the fuck they were 100% dating"
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inesbaby21 · 2 months
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Caitlin clark and a feminine reader who's her gay awakening. She and the reader are like really good friends at first, and then it slowly turns into something more. Maybe she gets jealous when she sees you hang out with another player like paige or Kate.
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"You've got it badddd"- Caitlin Clark
3rd person P.O.V
Don't get me wrong, you and Caitlin had always been close- even when you decided that staying in Iowa wasn't the choice for you. While you had no open regrets you missed the late night conversations with Cait, often talking about how you wanted your hair done next- or maybe which pair of jeans would go best with the new shoes you had ordered.
Being friends with someone who was so comfortable, and open with their femininity was something new to caitlin- almost scary. She was so used to the girls on her team not putting in effort to match the accent of their tees to their new shoes, or waking up an extra hour early to do their makeup because "it made them feel pretty" (you were always pretty to her, especially when you were focused on making a shot- oh and no doubt when you let out a snort from laughing too hard, ultimately causing you to laugh even harder from the embarrassment.)
So, why exactly did it take Caitlin until her junior year of COLLEGE- and subsequently the year you decided that maybe switching your Uconn to be closer to your older (adoptive) sister would be best for you to admit to herself that maybe (definitely) she likes you more than a friend? Why did it take her until the same pink luggage you had arrived with almost two years ago had been packed- and placed neatly in the white car with pink interior that she knew all too well for her to finally gain the courage to admit the feelings she had felt for you for years?
The same feelings that made her want to play a little too hard at the USA basketball tournament- even though she didn't know exactly who you were. That didn't matter though, you stood out like a sore thumb- a small red skirt, crisp white tee with words that read along the lines of "written by lana del something" adorn with red lettering- with makeup soft, and light giving you an almost angelic look.
Don't get even get me started on how unfocused she was that entire game- staring at the shot clock, and then you, and then the clock again. Fumbling the ball- and forgetting to use her pivot when she got a rebound. These little things caused to her ultimately get benched, finding her spot next to Paige as Hailey subbed her out for that quarter- she and Paige talked, about nothing too serious until Caitlin mentioned being distracted by not her nerves.. but by someone sitting in the stands with a ridiculously large ipad.
"No fucking way Caitlin" Paige said a little too loud for the girls liking as she shushed her out of fear of the coaches hearing.
"What? I'm just saying she's really pretty- and from the way she's been at all of the games this week I think she may be one of the girls sister or something" Caitlin said completely oblivious to the fact that the girl she had been almost studying for a week was Paige's younger sister- the same girl who she would spend the next 3 1/2 years yearning after too scared to make the first move.
"Caitlin" the Blonde said- dropping her voice an octave and sitting up straight. "That's my fucking sister you dimwit" she said lightly shoving the now pale girl sitting beside her as she laughed at the expression on the girls face.
"Oh my gosh- I.. I-I'm so sorry, I take all of that back" The brunette began to ramble scared by the sudden change of atmosphere. Not paying the panicking girl any attention Paige began to laugh as the entire situation was nothing short of hilarious to her- and honestly she started shed a few tears before her attention was called back to the game as she was subbed in.
This experience was one of many that occurred until you and Caitlin finally crossed paths in college. It was no secret that you had many offers from many different schools, and that ultimately when you committed to Iowa that there was bound to be a bit of sibling rivalry as both of you were very competitive. It was alsooo noted how much time you spent with the girls on the team with you- now don't get me wrong Caitlin couldn't exactly be jealous when you and Molly Davis began to hang out with one another outside of practice. But something in her snapped when you sad been elbowed in the face by an opponent while getting a rebound, and as she rushed to make sure you were okay the girl nudged her slightly backwards as she helped you up herself l- glaring at Caitlin on the court seemingly forgetting that there were cameras everywhere.
Fast forward to now. She had spent months upset with you- leaving you confused and ultimately hurt as you spent time attempting to figure out what exactly you did wrong. Was it the overwhelmingly positive attitude? The almost sickening pink bedroom decor (you had offered to tone your side of the room down too many times to count. ) Maybe it was the idea of you getting too close to molly, and then when you had sprung the news of you transferring to Uconn as a last resort to getting more playing time- and being able to showcase your talent like promised.
Whatever the reason was, it had Caitlin Clark avoiding you like the plague for months, ignoring the small talk you made when she was in your shared dorm- if she was even there. She began to spend the night with Kate as she had no roommate, and if she wasn't with Kate she was simply out all night.. and who were you to judge her- she was constantly put under stress to play her best, practice like it was a game, and most importantly to not let herself get too involved with anything relationship related.
That last reason alone was why she found herself with a ridiculously heavy, pink gift basket in hand as she marched towards the white car- just as nervous as the USA youth tournament that ultimately changed her life. She spent about a week writing the letter confessing her feelings- and with the help of Molly (ironic right ..) she picked out things that she knew you would not only like, but that help some form of value to you.
"Y/N/N" The girl yelled half heartedly- more sad about your departure, than nervous about giving you the note.
"Hey Caity" You said back with a bright smile- a smile that matched your bubbly voice. Caitlin would never understand why you couldn't hold grudges, even after icing you out for months- ignoring every attempt you gave to communicate, and borderline moving out you still had the heart to forgive her- and sometimes she wondered why it was so easy for you to forgive.
As you close the trunk of the SUV, you walked towards the nervous girl- taking the gift from her hands and giving her a tight hug around the neck, as her hands find their place along your waistline. The two of you stayed like that for a while until she pulled away to get a good look at your face. Caitlin could tell you really didn't want to leave Iowa, but your sister needing support as she was injured, and if you wanted any shot at potentially getting drafted you needed to have more playing time- more time to show how much you've grown as a player, more time to show who you were- to make a name for YOURSELF. These things combined together left you with no choice but to transfer, and why not transfer to a school where your sister already resided with her girlfriend? Why not transfer to a team full of love, and support with multiple great coaches?
Transferring was the best option for you, and Caitlin tried to understand that. Even if it meant potentially losing you, but deep down something inside of her told her that the distance would only bring the two of you closer- it would only feed the growing feeling from both parties, that it would only heal the wound that had opened as a consequence of pushing one another away. As you pulled away from the girl completely- you stared at the basket full of goodies.
"Oh Cait- You didn't have to get me anything"- You said tearing up, it was a thought out gift that obviously took some planning- and the price didn't matter to you as it was something that she had taken time to put together for you. "No, No I wanted to Y/N/N" she girl said with a bright smile "I wrote you a letter that I think you should really read"
As you carefully pull the letter out of its envelope, your eyes skim over the beautifully written piece of card stock- pink ink neatly written on the thick piece of paper as your begin to smile ear to ear. With no other words you drop the letter into the baby pink basket- leaning up and kissed the taller girl passionately, and as you pulled away breathless you began to mutter something along the lines of "Actually the shirt said written by Lana Del Rey" giggling as you began to think back to the day you set your eyes on the girl.
A/N-I'm sorry about being inactive everyone! i have band camp soooo i've been super busy and will be for the next few weeks! Also, im getting to my request/drafs bear with me 🙏🏾. ALSO please ignore my grammar issues, i didnt proof read it all the way- and im also playing around with the plot ngl. butttt i love you guys! and thank you for 120 followers! 💕❤️
tags; @cosmopretty
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alxndryngs · 11 months
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A Day Off
A/N: Since I am in desperate need of comfort/fluff, I came up with this. Enjoy!
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Alcina’s favourite maid has a bad day.
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Alcina, sitting in her atelier, was focused on her newest art piece. She only recently had gotten back into painting, and upon her new oil paints arriving, she had pushed work aside for once and hid away in her art room.
She even asked for her daughters to stay by themselves for the day, and put Bela in charge. Alcina wanted to dedicate herself to the work in process fully, without distractions.
The smell of fresh paint and sounds of birds chirping outside had fully consumed her, and hours passed without her noticing.
It was only when the feeling of hunger clawed at her throat that she noticed how much time had passed. Alcina called out, loud enough for the maids to hear.
“Yes, my lady.” Ingrid asked upon entering, her hands folded behind her back.
“Let y/n know I’m in desperate need of a glass of wine, and perhaps a small snack. She’ll know what to make me.”
Y/n had been her personal maid for almost three years at this point, having proven herself more than capable and worthy. Alcina took a liking to the girl, despite her wanting to admit it. She acted with grace, was humble and kind. Everything Alcina thought she herself was not, despite acting with grace.
The maid had left soon after, nodding before dismissal.
“Thank you, my-“ Alcina’s words ceased once her head turned and she was met by the image of Helena, and not y/n. “I asked for y/n, if I’m not mistaken.” Her tone now had a sharp edge to it, already feeling the annoyance bubbling up inside of her.
“Yes, my lady, I’m aware. But I was available, y/n isn’t feeling well today.”
Alcina paused, the paint covered brush slowly being lowered before placed down. It had surprised her that her little maid was feeling ill. In the years y/n had worked at the castle she might have fallen ill three times in total. Nothing could shake her, not even the freezing temperatures of the winter. Instead of freezing and sitting in front of her fireplace, she insisted on Alcina’s daughters receiving her firewood. ‘She didn’t need it’ she said.
“Well, send her the castle nurse. She will fix a remedy for whatever it is that is causing her to feel ill.” Alcina nodded, convinced this idea would be the solution. As the maid stood still, her mouth opening and closing to fish for an answer, Alcina snapped.
“Stop gawking at me like a dying bubble eye fish and do as I said! What am I paying you for?”
The maids mouth now stood agape in fear, and she stuttered for an answer. “I’m- my lady. I’m ever so sorry. A remedy from the nurse won’t help her. She’s just.. not feeling well mentally today.”
The maid paused, then adding in a panicked tone. “I apologise. I’m not sure if I was allowed to share that with you, Lady Dimitre-“
“I’m your employer, you’ll share with me when you last bled if I wish for you to.” Alcina growled, now standing and pushing the maid aside as she left her atelier.
As she strut through the castle, an anxious feeling overcame her. Y/n had always been collected and happy, and it seemed out of order for her to put work on hold. She had seen people die and burn because of Alcina’s wrath. People burning and screaming, being gutted, and managed to sleep like a baby. It confused Alcina.
She had slowed once entering the hallway leading towards the maidens rooms. Her heels thudded against the carpet, ceasing once having approached y/n’s room.
“Y/n?” Alcina called out, waiting for a response before gently knocking on the door with her knuckle. “Y/n, darling. I’ve heard that-“
Alcina stopped herself as the door opened. She fought the smile threatening to spread across her lips when y/n looked back at her.
“My lady.” She greeted, the same smile as always on the girls lips.
Alcina stood confused, licking her lips to moist them before pushing a smile back.
“Do you need me to wash your dress?”
Alcina’s brows furrowed “Pardon?”
“Your dress, my lady. It’s covered in paint.”
Alcina didn’t bother looking down at herself. Instead she shook her head and began to lean down, moving to step into the room as y/n stepped back to allow her to.
“I heard you were ill.” The stutter in y/n’s heart didn’t miss her. Alcina turned to look at her, waiting until she had closed the door before speaking again, her tone softer this time.
“You have always been by my side, ever since you came to Castle Dimitrescu. You’ve listened to me rant about my incompetent brother, complain over my business and daughters. You even dried my tears and blood for me. It is my turn to return the favour, my dear. Sit, and speak to me. What’s causing your little heart to beat this way?”
Alcina lowered herself onto the bed as she spoke. Y/n wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the kindness in Alcina’s eyes like there was now. It was inviting, comforting.
She obeyed, taking a seat next to her lady. It didn’t take long for the words to pool out of her, and all of a sudden, she had displayed the world to Alcina. Every single one of her concerns and problems laid splayed out before her, for her to look at and judge.
But instead, Alcina remained silent the whole time. Not once had she budged in to ask a question, even though there were multiple that burned on the tip of her tongue.
For comfort, Alcina removed the cream coloured handkerchief from her pocket. The Dimitrescu sigil was stitched into the corner.
Carefully, she had dried the maids tears. Her large hand cupped her cheek, and with the other she dried her tears.
Y/n cried, her face flush because of it and the embarrassment of crying in front of someone like Alcina. A wave of guilt overcame her for so freely unloading her problems onto Alcina.
“I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems, I-“
“Shush.” Alcina snapped, her voice immediately softening after. For a moment she hesitated, but then gently pulled her into her lap. She had to lift her slightly to her height to give her a proper hug. Alcinas gloved fingers ran through her hair, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat against her own chest.
“Don’t ever say that. You are not a burden, or burdening me by speaking about your feelings. Your feelings are more than valid, especially in topics like the ones you have shared with me just now. I am beyond proud that you shared your concerns. It takes courage to speak up about one’s concerns. And from what I can tell, this has bothered you for a long time.”
Alcina gently peeled the maid off of her, only enough so she could look at her. Y/n had leaned on her only after moments, quietly crying into the woman’s shoulder.
Her hands cupped her small face, and Alcina spoke quietly.
“I want you to know that I always will be someone you can trust, and confine in. I’m here, and I’m listening. Do you hear me?”
A small sob bubbled out of her, and she nodded. Y/n’s eyes closed as Alcina pressed the most gentle kiss to her forehead, letting it linger enough for both of them to have time to relish in it before pulling away.
Her lips had left behind a red mark which she would make sure to remove later on. But for now, she was returning the hug y/n had given her. She had thrown her arms around the older woman, holding on tight as her walls began to fully break down and crumble beneath them both.
Alcina closed her eyes, holding her close as she swayed them from side to side. Whispering sweet nothings calmed y/n after a few minutes, and Alcina made sure to show her appreciation of the girl for the rest of the day.
“I started a new art piece.. would you like to join me in the atelier for the rest of the day?” Alcina offered with a smile which intensified upon seeing y/n smile at the suggestion.
She wondered if the girl would notice that it was her Alcina was painting. Taking a stroll through the Dimitrescu garden at midnight, the moon shining down on her.
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blurbfics · 5 days
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There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part three]
Summary: Girls' brunch!
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: swearing, description of scars, light self-deprecation in reference to past abuse (this sounds harsher than it is, really), Gwyn crushing on Azriel, accidental outing of someone else, piercings, Cassian hurting someone's feelings
Minors, do not interact
A/N: im so happy this story has gotten some attention! i was half expecting it to just go in the internet void but if only one person is enjoying then thats enough for me. enjoy some light gay content
part two
"'Cause you're just a man
It's just what you do
Your head in your hands as you color me blue."
Lana Del Rey, Norman fucking Rockwell
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“-And he smiled at me! I really think he liked it,” Gwyn gushed, popping a blueberry into her mouth before reaching over for the cinnamon butter to spread over her slice of toast.
“How can you tell?” Eowyn asked curiously, licking at the muffin crumbs in the corner of her mouth, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him show emotion before.”
Nesta and Gwyn laughed at that, both nodding their heads. 
“I guess you just have to pay attention,” Gwyn replied mildly, shrugging.
It had been two days since her venture out into the city and all had been exactly the same as it was before, other than the minuscule shift between the Illyrians and herself. It wasn’t a drastic change, or anything particularly noteworthy for any other person, but considering the fact that the only people Eowyn spoke to on a daily basis consisted of Clotho, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie, with the exception of a priestess here and there that either delivered a message from Clotho or asked where she’d left a parchment, she did, of course, take notice.
While Azriel remained as emotionless and distant as he’d always been, she’d developed somewhat of an awareness of him. It was random and rather irritating to have that small sliver of consciousness of his nearness, especially when she was supposed to be partaking in the Valkyrie breathing exercises they practiced during their breaks from the grueling training, but for some reason, she simply knew when he was there. To her right, only a short distance away, or towards the far left corner of the ring — she was even half convinced she could feel when he approached, like some kind of echo-location. And then there were the times where she’d discreetly glance at him, from under her veil, unnoticed by anyone looking at her, only to find his eyes already set on her.
As if feeling her gaze, he was always quick to look away, in such a smooth manner she couldn’t quite be certain he was looking at her at all.
And then there was Cassian, who had already become more familiar with her the more time she spent with Nesta, and who had taken a particular liking to calling her ‘Wynnie.’ She’d made sure not to correct him on the name again, not wanting to encourage him to use it even more, but she had already accepted her fate and knew there was no going back. He’d been just so boisterous and happy when he spoke to her, slapping a heavy hard hand on her shoulder as greeting and had begun a light sort of teasing with her that it just felt wrong to deny him something so small.
Finally carrying out her promise to set up a luncheon, Nesta had the girls join her in the House of Wind kitchen to eat after a particularly grueling day's training. Emerie had mysteriously disappeared soon after training was over.
“Is Emerie not joining us?” Eowyn wondered, glancing at the door once more, half expecting the Illyrian female— or anyone, really— to come in any second, still feeling slightly panicked at the thought of anyone seeing her. They'd been eating for a while now and the Valkyrie had yet to appear.
She had been reluctant to join her friends for lunch, not because she didn’t want to join them, but rather out of diffidence, for their reactions to her unveiled face or the questions they might ask.
But Gwyn, like the majority of the priestesses, had already seen her uncovered face and knew better than to ask her about her past, Emerie was currently gone and Nesta? She had barely blinked at her, eyes going immediately to her nose instead.
Her sharp gray blue eyes had barely scanned her face in a fraction of a second before they focused on the center of her face, “what the fuck is that?” Her eyes widened slightly in a very un-Nesta like way, “on your nose?” She added quickly, not even giving Eowyn enough time to take offense or feel remotely ashamed.
But Nesta’s blunt question caused her mind to go blank for a second. Her nose?
She had let out a tuh sound of incredulity, “I’m showing you my fucked up face and you’re asking about the jewelry on my nose?”
“Is that what it is?” Nesta tilted her head to the side, “I’ve never seen anything like it. As for your face, I see nothing wrong with it. I’d say you even give Elain a run for her money.”
Something had ignited inside Eowyn then. Not the tinge of fraternal irritation Cassian had drawn out of her by calling her by a long forgotten nickname, but by the insinuation that she— with the jagged distorted scars pulling from the corners of her mouth, one ending in the outer center of her cheek, while the other extended longer and higher, almost to her cheekbone— could even compare to the flawless beauty and unsullied brightness that was Elain Archeron.
But the feeling itself— the sharp anger that rose within her was immediately thwarted by the recognition of the emotion itself. How long had it been since she’d felt something so powerful, so passionate, something that was once so familiar? Something that had been her second nature? Had it truly been over a century since she’d been anything but detached and apathetic?
Gwyn had been quick to come to her defense, although for an entirely different reason than what she assumed. “It's a great honor to bear jewelry on that part of the nose, known as the septum” she lit up, pleased to have the opportunity to share her knowledge, “septums are only bestowed upon those that have dedicated some of their eternal fae life to their studies.”
Septganiums, Eowyn mentally corrected, but figured it didn’t really matter. 
Nesta squinted at her, a curious human characteristic that Eowyn found quite endearing. “But you have two rings.”
“They symbolize every seventy-year cycle, based on the location and the name itself, the sept-um. It’s also kind of a joke… to pierce that which is always buried in a book.”
And that was that.
Nesta had assured them before they joined her that they had the house to themselves, as Cassian and Azriel had business with Rhys in the River House and knew better than to disturb her and her friends in their private time.
“She left with Mor,” Nesta answered her question with a smirk. Gwyn gasped excitedly and waved her toast around.
“No way! She finally mustered up the courage to talk to her!”
But Eowyn’s eyes only widened, holding her tea halfway up to her lips, “Mor was here?”
She didn’t miss the look Nesta shot her. Damn, she really needed to learn how to interact with people again. 
“Mhm, she spent the night last night,” Nesta smirked, “I overheard her ask Emerie if she wanted her to winnow her back to Windhaven.”
“No wonder she didn’t even bother telling us she wasn’t joining us for lunch,” Gwyn chuckled lightly, eyes alight with delight.
“Has Emerie been interested in Mor a long time?” Eowyn asked, the words feeling strange in her mouth.
“Oh yeah, she’s been in love with her forever,” Gwyn giggled and rolled her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder exaggeratedly, “talking about how beautiful she is, how perfect her hair falls, how she wished she was interested in females and would just look-"
“She is,” the words were out of her mouth before she could take them back and for a moment, the sardonic little demon in her mind that often mocked her and watched amusedly as she made a fool out of herself, whispered that perhaps her captors weren’t entirely in the wrong when they'd quite literally sewn her mouth shut at an attempt to keep her from berating them so much.
She cringed, face aflame as Gwyn and Nesta turned their focus to her, wearing different looks of scandalized surprise and curious dark amusement respectively.
“Wha-“
“Whe-“
“Forget I said anything,” she hissed at them, shaking her head ashamedly, eyes falling to the table, “I-I don’t know if Mor is out to the world like that and I’m not going to be responsible for-“
“Don’t worry about it, we won’t say anything,” Nesta assured nonchalantly in a way Eowyn truly did not trust for a second.
“Really,” Gwyn nodded encouragingly, noticing Eowyn’s reluctance, “we won’t say anything.”
Eowyn thought about it.
“Sorry, that’s not enough. I need you both to swear,” she looked at them both seriously.
Nesta scoffed, “I’m not striking a bargain with you because you let it slip that Mor eats pus-“
“That’s exactly why you have to do it. No offense, but you’re pretty hottheaded Nesta, there’s no knowing when you might just fuck up as I did now without meaning to hurt anyone, but what if you do? And Gwyn, I-I just-“
“You’re a busybody,” Nesta agreed, if a bit reluctantly, as she turned to Gwyn, “you’re going to want to tell Emerie to help her out but that’s not for us to share.”
“Exactly,” Eowyn breathed in relief, “I’m not asking for anything drastic, I’m just thinking that we don’t talk about Mor’s business unless she or Emerie announce it first, does that sound alright?”
“And what do I get from this bargain?” Nesta smirked, glancing at Gwyn who grinned back, looking almost mischievous in a very un-Gwyn like manner. “You tell us what happened between you and Mor.”
“You two are busybodies,” Eowyn rolled her eyes, “but fine, it’s a bargain.”
Eowyn couldn’t help but chuckle when the girls jumped in place in surprise, if not for the smallest pinches of pain, as there, in mirroring sides of their elegant fae pointed ears sparked two pieces of jewelry.
The house, ever so attentive, provided a small hand mirror for each of them to inspect their new singularly pierced ears.
“Fascinating,” Gwyn gushed, prodding her gold ring lightly.
“I was expecting a tattoo,” Nesta admitted, head tilted as she inspected the small silver jewelry piece, wrapped around the cartilage of her ear, “but I kind of like this better.”
“That’s an Illyrian tradition, right?” Eowyn licked a bit of jam off her finger.
Nesta nodded but then her eyes sharpened with glee, “you bargained a dirty little story, Wynnie.”
Beyond amused, Eowyn felt just a fraction— just the smallest hint of her old self— possess her body once more, that same spirit driving her to glance down at her plate in amusement as she glided her index finger over the sweet confiture before raising her gaze to look at them innocently from under her eyelashes as she brought her finger up to her tongue, “you never specified when, Nes.”
Their jaws dropped.
"Oh."
"Wynnie, I swear to the-"
“Woah, what is going on in here?” Cassian’s voice boomed through the luncheon setting the house had so lovingly crafted for them. “It smells like a female pleasure house in here.”
"You're not supposed to be here," Nesta scowled at her mate.
"Over a dozen rooms in this house and you pick the kitchen?" he huffed but then stopped and eyed them warily, “seriously, what's with the scent on you? Is it because I’m here or were you dirty females reading smut again?”
His statements, neither of which were true, caused Eowyn to genuinely laugh, if only lightly, which brought Cassian’s attention to her. She lost her grin when she saw his eyes flicker over her face, down to her scars, and almost laughed again at the clearly drastic differences between the mated pair.
She braced herself for the comment.
“Huh. Never noticed you had those septganiums, Wynnie— or should I say, Maestress Wynnie,” he spoke matter-of-factly, saying no more on the simple statement before reaching towards the center of the table and grabbing a handful of bacon.
She blinked at him. Perhaps the Mother truly knew what she was about when it came to these two.
Deciding that she wouldn’t care if he didn’t either, she stepped out of her comfort zone and left herself uncovered. Truthfully, the main reason she even covered herself was mostly out of habit now, for the comfort of others who might feel any disgust or objection to seeing her healed wounds, as some of the priestesses did. 
Eowyn would never forget the day, in her early days of exploration in the library, when she caused a priestess to fall into a fit of panicked breaths, clutching at her chest because the sight of Eowyn’s scars had triggered a memory of her attacker, who bore the same scars.
Eowyn knew it wasn’t her they were rejecting, but the fact that her own exposed trauma could trigger such a disconcerting response had been a penetrating blow to her psyche.
“Cassian, did you see Azriel’s bronze blade?” Gwyn lit up again, still riding the high from having interacted with the surly Shadowsinger that morning after training.
“Yeah, I saw it at the River House,” the General chortled, shoving a handful of berries into his mouth, “I told him to stop letting Mor get him shit he doesn’t like and won’t really use.”
There was a pregnant pause, the space suddenly devoid of air as if the house itself was holding its breath. Gwyn’s chair scraped the floor as she stood, eyes bright with tears. Saying nothing, she simply stepped away from the table and rushed out of the room.
“Good job,” Nesta glared at him, standing up to follow after her.
Eowyn stood up as well, eyes following Gwyn in concern, and despite it clearly being Cassian’s fault for opening his big mouth, she couldn’t help the guilt that bit at her stomach because she knew, she knew, she knew, the blade was not right for him. The color, the length, the feel, of it had been all wrong but she had decided to ignore her nosy little inner voice, reminding herself that those closest to the Shadowsinger would clearly know him better than her. Who was she to him but just another one the many neophytes?
“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her,” Nesta barely grazed her shoulder with a hand before she was out the door, leaving Cassian and Eowyn alone in the fancy tea luncheon.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Cassian grimaced, mouth still full of bacon and sweet biscuits.
But Eowyn only quirked a brow at him and began to collect her things. As she went to pull her veil over her face, he spoke again. “You really don’t have to wear that around us, you know? I mean, you do whatever you want, but I just want to make sure you know we don’t see you any differently for any scars you may have. All of us have our own share of them.”
But she did have to wear it, if not for her own comfort than that of others, but she decided against saying so.
“Have you seen scars like mine?” She asked instead, finding herself suddenly curious.
He nodded, “I’ve seen all kinds of scars. If you ever see battle, which I hope you don’t, you’ll see plenty of scars worse than your own.”
Worse.
Her grip on the back of her chair tightened at his brief dismissal. Knew, logically, that he intended to soothe what he assumed were physical insecurities, but that ultimately felt like a disregard to the pain she'd endured to only leave such scars.
She nodded stiltedly, “right. Good afternoon, General.”
“Aw Wynnie, not you too!” He called out after her but she was already out the door.
part four
taglist: @lilah-asteria @a-courtof-azriel
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zablife · 3 months
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Happiness is a Butterfly
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Johnny Davis x female reader
Johnny Davis Masterlist
Summary: Chasing happiness with a man like Johnny Davis can only end in heartbreak.
A/N: Inspired by Lana as always
Warnings: mean Johnny, cheating, pregnancy, mention of abortion, angst
You stood sideways before the mirror, head tilted to examine your reflection as you held your shirt at your navel. Gulping at the sight of your bloated abdomen, you wondered how much longer you could hide your secret beneath baggy clothing.
The sound of a motorcycle engine downstairs brought you around, dropping the hem of your top and reaching for your purse. Taking the stairs, you noticed how your rushed footsteps mirrored the thud of your nervous heart, yet you raised your chin with as much courage as you could muster. Today was the day you were going to tell Johnny.
In your mind the conversation was simple, do you want me or not? You had decided long ago that he was the man for you, willing to do anything he asked despite the danger, and obvs immorality, that came with your complicated relationship. Meeting in darkened parking lots and drive-in movies across town, you attempted to avoid Betty's watchful gaze. However, you wondered if Johnny realized the aching void created in your chest as he escaped off into the moonlight.
Today, the rush of wind against your cheeks when you opened the front door made you hopeful, the sight of Johnny waiting to claim you once again filling you with giddy excitement. His wide grin quickly spread, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "There's my babydoll," he called, swinging a leg over his bike to embrace you.
He leaned in to grasp your cheek in his gloved hand tightly, devouring you in a hungry kiss.
You tried to press your hand to his broad chest and push him away, as your panicked whisper reverberated against his ear, "Should we be doin' this here?"
Stroking a large hand down your back his rich, warm voice assured you, "S'okay, Betty's out of town. Besides, I need ya darlin'."
Your body relaxed against him as you nodded in agreement, suddenly feeling all would be well. Inhaling deeply to steady your shaking hands, you reached for him wondering what's the worst that could happen? You'd just opened your mouth when he spoke first.
"Wanna go down to the bar with me and find some trouble?" he asked with a mischievous raise of his eyebrows.
"Sure," you heard a small voice agree, your hand encased in his as he guided you toward the bike.
Clutching onto him as you took your place at his back, you felt comforted by his solid frame. Your arms hugged him tightly as he drove, inhaling his familiar scent.
"My sweet girl missed me, huh?" he joked as you passed through town, his hand splayed protectively over your thigh.
"You'll never know how much," you mused, wondering if this might be the end of your lonely nights, a new dawn waiting for you after you gave him the news.
However, as he parked his chopper alongside the row of other bikes, you felt a wave of nausea mixed with anxiety crash over you, unable to wait any longer to unburden your mind. It swam in your eyes as Johnny's curious stare held you captive and you had no choice but to explain when he asked, "Somethin' wrong?"
You stared up at him with all the love and devotion you had spilling forth in your tears. "I didn't know how to tell you before," you mumbled, reaching for his hand and intertwining your small fingers with his.
He squeezed your hand to urge you on and the feeling of his skin against yours grounded you.
"I'm pregnant," you confessed in a reverent whisper. "Gonna have your baby, Johnny," the words spilled out on an eager breath.
Searching his eyes for the reflection of your adoration and hoping to hear him confess his, you were shattered when his pupils darkened in hardened disapproval.
You shrunk from him as his posture stiffened, jaw tightening as he studied you as though you were someone he no longer recognized. He withdrew his hand from yours and made it into a fist as he narrowed his eyes at you demanding, "What were you thinkin'?"
The tone of his delivery unnerved you, your arms wrapping around your midsection protectively as you wondered what he might do next. You were no stranger to his reputation for brutality, the tough biker who backed up his warnings with a set of brass knuckles. He was ruthless when it came to anyone who dared question his authority, but you'd always told yourself he was different with you. You believed you were the one person he would always treat with kindness, but as he loomed over you with a stormy look, you were frightened of the thoughts passing through his mind.
Your hand shook as you wiped the tears from your cheek, hiccuping, "I don't know. I-I th-thought you'd be happy."
Johnny encroached on you once more, pushing your back to the brick wall of a building as his face hovered over yours. "You thought getting yourself knocked up would make me happy?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Feeling your stomach drop at his cold detachment, you shivered at the facade of the man you thought you knew melting away to reveal the horror beneath it. Oddly your heart still wanted to reach for him, feel his embrace lulling you back to a place of security, but your brain swiftly reminded you that he was as bad as everyone had said.
"I thought you wanted to be with me," you sniffed, wiping your nose against the back of your hand pathetically.
He scoffed at your youthful naiveté with bitterness, "I already got a wife and kids. What don't you understand about that? You were just a good time, sweetheart." Then he began to walk away as though you were an insignificant speck of dust, unworthy of his attention.
"Johnny, wait!" you called after him, limbs thawing from their frost to chase after him. Time sped up until the street around you had become a blur of confusion, clutching his shirt front as you pleaded with him.
"We don't have to talk about this tonight. Let's go inside and have fun like we always do, baby. I just wanna dance with you," you begged, even as he held your wrists from his body with a punishing grip.
"Only place you're goin' is home," he declared, waving his hand for a cab.
"Don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi," you hissed in protest, as he dragged you back to the curb and draped a jacket over you, pretending to be a gentleman.
Johnny was unwavering in his decision and there was little you could do to change his mind to set you free. His whispered instructions about a clinic on Jefferson that helped girls in trouble, the last poisoned words you'd hear from him on the matter. You wanted to believe you'd caught a glimpse of hurt in his eyes as he closed the taxi door against your shaking form. However, he never even glanced back as he handed the driver some wadded up bills.
As the car pulled away with you crying in the backseat, your tear stained face pressed against the glass wondering why happiness always eluded you, a butterfly you'd foolishly tried to catch like lightning in your hand.
Epilogue
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iluvnewports · 9 months
Text
Canary
An AU one-shot of Butcher from The Boys where years after Becca dies, he finds himself fighting his feelings for you and finally gives in. + fluff & angst
minors dni
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“You were always like my canary, I suppose.” Butcher breathes out painfully as he looks over to you across the console. “I knew when I couldn’t hear you anymore I had gone too deep.”
You have half a mind to slap him upside his head, gripping his stupid beach shirt by its collar to hoist him up from leaning against the door. “Stop talking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re fucking dying.” You place both your hands back on the wheel, making a sharp turn that makes Butcher groan. “You’re going to be fine.” You look over to his blood-soaked pants and his bloodied hands atop it.
“Keep your fucking hands on it, Butcher, Christ.” You look between his hands and the road. You knew it was only a matter of time until his luck ran out and something didn’t go his way. You’re the most wanted criminals in the country for fucks sake, it was only a matter of time. Everyone wants your head.
“Oi, stop fucking shouting, they didn’t shoot my ears out.” Butcher barks at you as you make another hasty turn which causes yet another groan. Serves him right, snapping at you like that, all when you only care about his well-being.
“Just shut up.” You slam on the brakes a little harsher than you should’ve so he lunges forward a little with a pained groan. Pulled up next to the curb, you hastily unbuckle your seatbelt, turning to look at Butcher who’s already staring daggers at you.
“Can’t even let a tender moment stop you from being a cunt, can ya?”
You smile, one corner tugging up further than the other. “There he is.”
You move around to the other side of the car and help the injured man out, escorting him down the steps as he wobbles on his hurt leg. You kick open the door swiftly, though it’s not anything impressive as it is more of a small nudge, heads turning as you two sleuth into the dingy basement.
“Jesus Christ, Butcher!” M.M jumps up from his seat as Hughie looks around panicked, unsure what to do he stands up and grabs the back of his head, mouth hanging open as he stutters.
Kimiko’s brows raise as Frenchie mutters a curse, everyone rushing to their feet to help guide Butcher to the table. He’s practically pulled from your arms and you feel a bit defensive at this, furrowing your brows as you almost pull him straight back into your grip. It’s as if he isn’t as safe unless he’s in your hands.
“What happened?”
“Vought happened.” You murmur, helping Butcher sit down in the chair, his pained groans not particularly worrisome to you until now. You grab his shoulder in comfort, watching as M.M assesses his leg.
“Butcher the bullet is still in there, there’s no exit wound.” He props his leg on another chair, cutting the fabric of his pants around the wound. Blood pools around the wound, his leg hair around it turning slick and red as flesh pokes out around the bullet wound, crimson red flesh peeling like a lotus flower around the gaping hole.
“So, what, you’re going to dig into his leg?” Hughie looks as if he’s breaking out in a cold sweat as he swallows dryly, his voice becoming high-pitched with worry.
“What the hell you want me to do, huh?” M.M raises his arms in question before pointing back to Butcher’s leg. “Just leave it in there?”
“I don’t know—! Shouldn’t we get him to a hospital?”
“No!” You, M.M, Frenchie, and Butcher all say in unison.
“Hughie, go find your nuts, they’re probably hidden beneath your twat, and fuck off,” Butcher says roughly, head thrown back as he winces. M.M is quick to sterilize a pair of forceps, pulling around his spinning chair. He pours alcohol on his leg without warning, causing Butcher to grit his teeth and wail out a “Fuck!”
You grab his hand, your palms clasping together with a squeeze as you cling to his arm as if you’re the one getting a bullet dug out of you. You rub his shoulder gently as your other hand clasps his, watching as M.M digs the forceps into his leg, causing Butcher to jerk and startle. Frenchie grabs his other side, trying to keep him still.
“Be still, Mon Ami.” Frenchie says as delicately as always.
“You wanna swap fucking seats then?” Butcher snaps. He’s always so curt, so rude, and you all just withstand it. Because, hey: that’s just Butcher.
You give his hand a squeeze, signaling him to ease up a little. He only grunts, shooting you a look. He doesn’t say anything, though. M.M continues digging around, tongs deep in his leg as the handle sits at an awkward angle.
“I found it.” He murmurs, squinting his eyes as he pushes the two handles together with a tugging motion.
“Fucking hell!” Butcher curses as his head falls backward, hair falling into his face as sweat beads his chest, which you can see since his top two buttons were popped off. Eyebrows pulled together and eyelids crinkled close, you allow your eyes to wander down his glimmering chest. His pecs are large, which you’ve always loved in a man, even the harsh lamp light making his skin look appealing. He’s just so… rough. In a good way. His body carries stories, tales of the past, tales of how hard his life has been and what he’s carried, what he’s endured.
M.M gives another harsh tug to no avail, causing Butcher to curse again. “Just fucking pull it out!” You yell, feeling nauseated. Not because of the scene, but because it’s him.
“I’m fucking trying, Jesus!” M.M snaps at you, whipping his head up to meet your eyes. “Do you want to try? Since you’re such an expert all of a sudden.”
“I’m just saying—!”
“For fucks sake don’t yell at her.” Butcher defends, which causes M.M to quiet down. Your eyes snap to him, unsure how you feel about it all. He’s always been a bit… defensive over you? It makes you feel almost embarrassed like you can’t handle yourself.
M.M is quiet for a moment as Butcher groans more, shrugging Frenchie off of him with a small “fuck off,” as he stares down the barrel of his leg as M.M grips the handles and slowly pulls out of the wound, presenting a bullet dripping in gore, clanging against the metallic dish he throws it into. The blood flows off the bullet, saline becoming pink as crimson floats upwards in a somewhat beautiful pattern.
M.M is quick to grab his needle and suture as he begins stitching the wound up, murmuring something under his breath as Butcher tilts his head back to look up into your eyes, hazel as beautiful as any moss-covered tree. You feel a chill at your side as your heart warms under his gaze. It’s not completely foreign to you but this time, it’s more intense.
You both pull your hands apart slowly, your touch lingering longer than necessary. You lift your head, noticing M.M looks at your hands and back up to you. He says nothing, shooting a look you can’t exactly decipher, shooting Butcher a look.
Butcher, never one to be the silent type, also says nothing.
“You’re gonna be sore, but you’ll live.” M.M breathes out a murmur, wrapping up his tools into a cloth before discarding the bloodied gauze.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” Butcher slices his hand through the air firmly, tilting his head and raising his brows as he nods in confirmation. “Right.”
“Butcher, Jesus, it’s just a few days, stop being such a baby.” You collapse onto the dirty couch and tuck your legs beneath you as you curl into the corner. You pat the cushion next to you. “C’mon. That old Translucent movie is up next…” You trail off with a smile. Butcher wobbles closer, groaning as he rolls his eyes.
“I’m glad the old cunt died before he could make a sequel.” Butcher stands nearby, watching the TV. “I feel fine, it don’t even hurt.”
“You’re wobbling, you can hardly walk.” You pat the cushion again, though harsher this time. “C’mon, sit. Even super badass wanted criminals need a day off.”
Butcher groans but eventually walks over and sits beside you, maybe just a few inches away, your legs almost touching. He puts his arm up to rest on the back of the couch almost wrapping around you. The silence is comfortable, endearing.
You turn your head to look at Butcher some minutes into the movie and you can tell he’s deep within his thoughts. A dark place, one you know too well. So you shift your whole body, turning to him as you rest your chin on your arms which rest on the tops of your legs. “Do you remember when we first met?” You ask with a smile.
Butcher leans his head back onto the couch, turning to you with a half-tilted grin. “Like it was yesterday, sweetheart.”
“I really didn’t like you, you know.” You smile softly, looking behind him as you think. “Which is so weird because you’re just so likable.”
Butcher chuckles. “Like you’re some dainty flower yourself?” He scoffs in humor. “Right bloody nerve you must’ve had, throwing a drink in my face. That’s how I knew you had balls.”
“A compliment? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” You bring the back of your hand to his forehead as if feeling for a fever.
“Oh piss off.” He waves you away, humor laced in his tone even if he doesn’t smile. You laugh and your hand falls to his shoulder, remaining there as you look at one another.
In an instant, all in one fluid motion, grabs you by the back of your head, pulling you into him as he angrily devours you, kissing you harshly as he grips your hair, fingers tangling into your hair as he pushes them along your scalp. His other hand moves to the small of your back as he pulls you into him, still sitting side by side as you kiss.
He bites your lower lip harshly, almost harsh enough to make you bleed, soothing it with the lapping of his tongue before moving to your top lip, moving between the two repeatedly. He’s dominating you already, pulling at you as if he needs you. You couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. You can feel your lower stomach aching, pulsating for more as warmth bubbles in your abdomen.
He pulls away, breathing heavily as his focus moves across your face. You are beautiful, beyond beautiful, in every state he’s ever seen you. Dirty and tired, bright and happy, pissed off. “I ever tell you how knock-dead you are?”
You get what he’s saying, blushing, but you shrug it off. “You know nobody ever understands what you’re saying.”
He pulls you in closer so you’re flush against his side, holding the back of your neck as he buries his face into the side of it, kissing and nipping at you until he licks up to your ear. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Your face burns as you chew on your inner cheek. You don’t know what to do with yourself, especially when someone compliments you. And Butcher of all people feels so unfamiliar. You let your head fall to the other side, eyes fluttering close as he licks up your neck and nibbles your ear.
Butcher pulls back and shifts himself so he’s between your legs though not putting his weight on you as he drags his hands from your neck all the way down to the waist of your pants, pausing as he looks up to you. “May I?”
You nod, though a bit hesitant. He immediately removes his hands, backing up a bit. “Are you uncomfortable?” His tone is gentle, something you don’t see often.
“No!” You’re quick to exclaim, shaking your head. “No, no. I want to.”
Butcher smiles cockily, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans. “Say it.”
You look at him with furrowed brows in confusion, which he immediately picks up on as he pushes himself back between your legs and leans forward into your lips. “I want you to tell me what you want.” He whispers.
You hesitate, breathing out slowly in embarrassment. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Of course, I will, sweetheart.” He breathes against you as he’s quick to pop the button of your jeans and strip them down your legs so you’re left in your thin cotton underwear. He backs away, looking down at your slightly parted legs, and dives his large, warm hands down between your thighs to spread them wider, craning his neck to the side as he examines you. You sink in on yourself, blushing, the cushion beneath your bare ass is scratchy and you sort of feel bad knowing this is where your friends sit.
You’re wet, leaving a damp spot right center of your underwear. He runs a thumb down over it, making you jerk slightly as he chuckles to himself. “Don’t be shy.” He looks to you as he hooks a finger into your underwear from the side, pulling it away to reveal your glistening slit.
He looks in awe as he stares at you, his lips parting slightly as he absorbs such beauty. He feels hypnotized, wanting nothing more than to fall to his knees and please you for hours until you’re screaming and raw just so he can worship you and his tongue can memorize you, every crevice and curve.
His tongue runs over his bottom lip as he dips his head down and you can’t help it, “What’re you doing?”
“How do you mean?” He looks up at you confused.
“I thought we were just gonna…” You trail off.
Butcher shakes his head slowly, looking at you as if you were crazy. “I’ve been fantasizing this a long time, love.” Truth be told, it gets him off just thinking about making you cum with nothing in return. “And all I really want is your thighs wrapped around my head until you’re hoarse.”
You almost gasp at his forwardness, though you’re not sure what you expected; it’s Butcher, after all. Even his soft side isn’t very soft. You feel a pit in your stomach, you’re sort of scared. What if it’s bad? And then you’ll have to face him, forced to live with him in this shitty basement, knowing that he doesn't particularly know his way around a pussy, despite most of his vocabulary consisting of ‘cunt’ and ‘twat’.
His finger curiously runs up your slit and you shudder, tucking your lips together as you try and quiet yourself. Butcher yanks at your legs so you’re now flat on your back, head resting on the couch as he displays his wet finger with some sort of pride, glistening in the light before pushing them past your lips and pressing down on your tongue. You suck on his finger slowly, a groan falling from his parted lips as he watches you intently.
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs, pulling the finger from your mouth and grabbing your chin so you’re forced to look up at him. He leans down to kiss you, grinding against you and you can feel the hardness of his bulge against your cotton underwear.
His finger slips down and rubs circles around your clit as he kisses your open, moaning mouth. Your eyes pinch close in agony at the slowness of it all, feeling the way he wants to draw out each and every second of pleasing you. “Look at me darling, come on.” You open your eyes to see him watching you intently. “That’s it, good girl.”
Butcher slips his fingers down your slit and teases your entrance, causing you to gasp slightly, which he reacts to by letting out a deep breath before kissing you deeply again. His touch leaves you needing more and every sense hones in on it as your back arches off of the couch as he slowly draws moans out of you.
As he pushes in and out slowly, he pushes down on your hips with his other hand, ensuring your stillness for him as he works you over and over. Your underwear begins to chafe slightly as you let out a light moan, looking down between the two of you. Lowering his head down between your propped legs, he kisses between your thighs, and his beard scratches against your skin lightly, almost drawing a small smile from you.
He hums into your thigh before dragging his other hand to scoop beneath your thigh, giving you a warm squeeze, fingers spread across your skin. As he kisses down, he begins leaving sloppy kisses that leave your skin wet, nipping you on the way, breathing heavily against you, ready to burst. His head dips down further, though slowly, teasing you as you buck your hips further.
Eventually making contact, his fingers stall as his tongue swipes up your cunt in a long stride before pulling away and savoring the way you taste on his tongue. He chuckles to himself as your hips jolt, going back down to lick up you again, his large, flat tongue trailing slowly as he runs circles on your clit. You gasp out, sitting up halfway and leaning back on your elbows as you look down at him working wonders on your pussy. His hand shoots up to rest on your stomach, pushing you back down onto your back.
His fingers pick back up again, curling up into you as he sucks on your clit, lapping circles against you as you breathe out a string of moans. Butcher grabs the bottoms of your thighs as he pushes your knee back into your face, exposing you further to him, digging nails into your flesh. As you moan again, he moans against you, causing your sensitive skin to vibrate as you dampen his beard. He devours you as you secrete onto his tongue and he finds you oh so sweet.
Your fingers push into his thick dark hair as you pull at him, wanting him closer and closer to you as he curls into your g-spot. Your back arches, one hand moving down to feel his jaw and the way it stretches to mold around you perfectly, moving up and down to lick you raw. Your moans turn into pants as your chest heaves up and down, every movement of his fingers and tongue pushing you closer and closer to the brink.
He notices this, keeping his fingerwork consistent as he pulls his mouth away, wanting nothing more than to watch you fall apart in front of him as he watches.
“That’s it,” he praises, leaning above you as your face contorts in delight, eyelids falling gently as you breathe deeply. “Just like that, gorgeous.”
His praise pushes you over the edge as the bubble in your lower stomach bursts and you’re riding the high of your orgasm, jerking your hips so you’re essentially riding out the high atop his fingers. It’s a good thing he’s as strong as he is, otherwise, you might feel self-conscious.
Butcher plants soft kisses along your collarbone as you heave out another string of moans, coming to the conclusion of your climax as your head spins in a blur. This doesn’t stop the pumping of his fingers, though, the overstimulation of it all causing you to jerk, your eyes flying open as you smack at his shoulder with a cry. “Billy!”
His fingers stall, not yet pulling out, and you almost gasp thinking you went too far, wanting to kick yourself for ruining the moment. You can’t read his face and you’re half-expecting him to curse you as he pulls out of you, leaving you alone and half-naked on the couch.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he pushes forward as he kisses you deeply, passionately, hand cradling your face as he breathes against you, noses touching as he looks down into your eyes. He pulls his fingers between you too, your sweet slick coating his fingers thickly as he inserts them into his mouth to lick them clean.
You can smell yourself on his breath and you push him back, two hands on his chest as you sit up, pushing him down into the couch. You claw at his shirt, ripping it open with such ferocity and desperation that it rips completely, buttons flying off and clanging to the ground. His chest, god how you could stare at it all day, your hands coming up to scoop and grab at his pecs as you dive down to kiss his neck. You can’t get enough of him, quickly diving your head down to kiss his chest as you lick down his torso, leaving wet kisses behind, biting at him. You bring your head back up and kiss along his pecs, close to his nipple, before you’re stopped by a hand laced in your hair, pulling you backward.
Face to face with Butcher, his hand wraps around your cheeks as he squishes your face slightly, chuckling lowly with a head shake. “That’s not how things are gonna play out sweetheart.”
In one fluid movement, he throws you onto your back, towering over you menacingly as he grabs at your throat. “I ain’t half the bitch you must be used to.”
Your pussy clenches at his alpha-male-esque as he shrugs off his ripped button-down, diving down to kiss you as you hungrily kiss back. Attempting to pull your own shirt off your head, he settles to rip your shirt as well, ripping the collar apart as you gasp a startled laugh into his mouth. “This is my favorite shirt, you know.”
“Oh I know love, and you look lovely in it.” Rip. “But you look a lot better out of it.” Riiiiiip. He pulls the loose, torn fabric from beneath you, discarding it on the floor. You sigh slightly, though humorously.
“You rip mine I rip yours.” He shrugs, dipping back and kissing you as he claws at your back with dull nails, unhooking your bra and pulling it off your arms as he goes down to kiss your chest, all the while he unbuckles his belt to give himself a bit of relief from the hardness within his jeans.
Licking down between the valley of your breasts, Butcher pinches your nipple and rolls it between his rough fingers as he nips at you. You arch your back in delight, gasping at the sensation as he takes your other breast in his warm mouth, flicking his tongue over your nipple before sucking on your breast, now rubbing his hand up and down your bare torso.
Your fingers knit in his hair as you throw your head back in a moan. “Fuck, Butcher.” You’re sure not to push your luck by calling him Billy again, which he’s always hated from us for some reason.
Your body breaks out in chills as his fingers lightly graze your skin, clearly more focused on pleasing you than himself. After giving your nipple a nip, which causes you to jump, you push at him and he hovers over you, lips parted as he adjusts himself in his pants. “Tell me you want it.” He groans.
“I want it. You.” His head tilts to the side. Not good enough.
“I want you to fuck me.” You groan in need to which he nods, unbuttoning his pants as he dives his hand down into the front of his jeans.
Pulling himself out, fuck he’s huge, you feel intimidated as he aligns himself with your entrance, running his large tip along your slit which causes you to shiver. Fuck. Your legs are already shaking.
Butcher places a hand on your lower stomach, rubbing slowly. “Relax.” He purrs, tugging at his cock so precut beads over the top. “You’re okay.”
You nod as you take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he pushes his tip within your entrance, the sudden fullness causing you to gasp as he stretches you out to fit himself snuggly within you. You whine aloud at the sting, shaking your head. “I don’t think it’s gonna—“
“We’ll make it fit.” He whispers a coo, pushing himself in slowly with a slow sway of the hips, moving back and forth in rhythm with what length he’s already accomplished.
You nod, eyes crinkling shut as you push past the burning sensation. It’s odd—it hurts, yet feels so good. Your pussy throbs, a deep ache you never knew had become prevalent, a hunger deep within you igniting as you wish you could swallow him whole. He continues to thrust deeper, laying forward as his chest meets yours, kissing you passionately as he rocks into you, inch by inch stretching your cunt so you’re personally molded for him. He groans into your ear which breaks your skin out into chills, cursing under his breath as he buries his face into your neck, two hands gripping your ass to spread you apart for him and his liking.
His cock hits the sweet spot as he rocks fully into you in a primal need, picking up his pace as he pushes himself above and hikes up your leg against his side, arm scooping beneath to hold it there as he slows himself to a painful pace, cocking his head to look down at your glistening face, sweat beading down between the valley of your breasts as you moan out into the air.
“You were made for me.” He huffs out, throwing his head back with a groan as you tighten around him from his praise. You can feel yourself climbing that same high from earlier, chasing it more ferociously now, his cock ramming into you until the walls of your pussy are raw from the friction. Your other leg shoots up so they’re not hooked around his waist, pulling him into you so you can kiss him because god is he sweet.
You kiss into his open, moaning mouth as you slink your fingers up his rough backside and rip your nails into the flesh, ripping down his back as he slams into you harshly, cursing under his breath. You can feel yourself tightening around his cock, building more and more pressure for the two of you as his hand wands to press down on your lower stomach and the other grips beneath your head, fingers pushing through your hair before bunching it in his fist to tug at as some sort of anchor for himself.
“You’re a fucking succubus, you know that?” He whispers harshly, trying to contain himself as he presses down into your lower stomach, causing your pleasure to tenfold as you moan out, trying to ground yourself as you stab your nails into his back to try and not lose yourself completely.
“Cum for me sweetheart.” He urges, wanting nothing more than to serve you before himself. “I know you’re close.”
You nod, mouth falling slack as you moan out his name, tightening your grip within your legs around his side, feeling his motion and rhythm as if it was your own. You suck in a sharp breath, finally pushed over the edge as he fucks you through your high, filling you with a sort of comfort, playing a game of ping pong with your orgasm; you push onto him, and he only pushes you back. It’s wild and wide, your legs shaking around him as he holds you and fucks you into ecstasy. All you can do is gasp, unable to even speak, feeling as if you are within the heavens themselves. Who knew you could feel so good, especially at the hands of someone so bad?
You feel Butcher’s cock twitching within you as he breeds you, groaning loudly, louder than before, though you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your own ears. He curses a “fuck” and “shit” as he spills himself into you, heaving like a wild animal as he pushes into your with broken thrusts, his cum serving as some sort of slick cushioning from the burn of friction. You can feel his cum spill out of you slightly as he pulls all the way out and pushes back in, both of you breathing heavily as you orgasm together. An unstopping force meets an unmoving object as you two mold into one beautifully, always meant to pass but never meant to stick.
Butcher pulls completely out of you, collapsing onto you as you both breathe as if you had just run a marathon.
You might’ve well have.
“Fucking hell,” Butcher says between breaths to which you nod, heart pounding within your chest as you stare up towards the ceiling, sweat clinging to your naked body feeling tacky and cool as you two gather yourself. Once ready, Butcher lifts himself off of you and pulls his pants up, laying back onto his back as he pulls you into him, resting your cheek on his chest as he rubs your shoulder, body resting between his spread ones.
He kisses your temple, nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head as he runs his hand up and down your arm gently, comforting silence overtaking you two for a moment as you two reflect on what just happened. You crane your neck up so you can look at him.
“You really remember the first time you met me, all those years ago?”
Butcher nods, looking at you and then off into the distance. “Of course I do.”
You adjust your head back so your cheek is to his chest, nodding. “You’re not as heartless as I thought.”
Butcher is silent for a moment, reflecting on your statement. His instinct is to run away from the statement, to retreat and prove you wrong. But this one time, he allows himself to be vulnerable. And while he doesn’t know what to exactly say (he’s never been the best with words), the action of holding you tighter and leaving a long kiss on your temple tells you enough.
“Me neither.”
part two here
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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months
Text
'cold turkey' but i rewrote it - part two!
summary: the festivities have begun! but you forgot the drinks. whoops. wc: 2k+ a/n: I almost cut this short at like a thousand words but I knew in my SPIRIIITT that I wanted to add more twists and turns to this thing. It's a bit rushed but let's just say I'm very glad I did! if you feel like it: comment your favorite holiday-related dishes :) part one part two
“Traffic was nuts today,” your older sister Alanna sighed as she hauled a carton full of cans of soda over to the kitchen. She looked up and saw Miles, who smiled and gave her a quick wave. “Oh my god, Miles?”
“One and only,” he replied. “Been a minute, ain’t it?”
The woman set the carton down on the floor. “When did you get so big? You're taller than me!”
Miles shrugged. “Growth spurt.”
“Alright then, nice seeing you,” Alanna turned and joined you on the couch with that glint in her eye and smirk that appeared only when she was scheming. “He’s mad cute now, right?”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, “ ‘Lana, no. Not happening.”
“Come on, I’ve seen the niggas you been with and he’s literally your type–”
“Can you lower your voice? He’s right there!” you yell-whispered. 
You craned your neck to see if Miles was listening. His head was down, all focus seemingly directed towards cooking beans. 
You turned back towards Alanna. “Anyway, he’s Jeff’s kid. I don’t want beef with Jeff or his mama if we break up. They literally live around the corner, do you know how awkward that’s gonna be?”
“So pessimistic,” Alanna’s lips were upturned into a pout. “How you just met him and you already imagining the breakup?”
“I’m being realisti–”
“The beans are done!” Miles’ voice interrupted. 
You called out, “That’s great, thank you so much! I’ll see you later this evening?”
He emerged from the kitchen and began to put on his sneakers. “Yup, lookin’ forward to it,” he stood up and made direct eye contact with you as he smiled. “Good luck with med school.”
With that, Miles grabbed his jacket off of the hook by the entrance, and left.
Your sister watched the door shut behind him with a satisfied grin. “He likes you.”
“No he don’t,” you retorted, keeping your eyes glued to your socks. “You want him to like me.”
The image of fluttering lashes and the scar on his cheek returned to you. How Alanna could tell even without her knowing about that little encounter was a mystery.
“Well, either way, do what you want,” she rose from the couch with a sigh of resignation. “I’m just saying he seems sweet. Now, help me decorate, and I’ll let you make the playlist after.”
You perked up at the thought of having DJ privileges and hopped to your feet. “You got it!”
-
Only half an hour had passed since relatives and family friends began trickling in, but you were already exhausted. One more inescapable hug and barrage of questioning, and you swore you’d have a breakdown. 
Ding dong!
“I’ll get it!” you announced, narrowly escaping being accosted by one of your aunts as you made a beeline for the door.
It was Miles again, this time with company.
“Welcome back,” you greeted Miles and stepped back to open the door wider. “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Morales!”
“Y/N! It’s been so long, tú eres tan guapa!” Rio Morales briefly took both of your hands in hers before entering, tugging Miles along with her.
Jefferson Morales was the last to go inside. His warm smile was a stark contrast to his wide, imposing frame. “I see Miles didn’t burn your kitchen down,” he laughed heartily. “He wasn’t too much trouble?”
Not in the way you were expecting.
You shook her head politely, “No, not at all! He even helped me finish dinner.”
Jefferson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well, that’s good to hear. We really appreciate the invite.”
“No problem,” you nodded as you shut the door.
“Y/N!” Alanna rushed up to you not a moment later, looking mildly panicked. “Do you remember where you put the drinks? The alcoholic ones, I mean.”
Your eyes widened. “Fuck, I think I forgot to buy them.”
“...Now, your mother was going to nursing school at the time, so she had to…”
Jefferson’s deep voice carried over the music, catching Alanna’s attention. He stood near the tin of mac and cheese telling a story that–judging by the look on Miles’ face–he had told several times before.
That same smirk from before spread across her lips. ‘Do what you want’, sure, but a little helpful push wouldn’t hurt.
“Miles, do you wanna help out Y/N again? She forgot to go out and buy drinks.”
He perked up, relief written all over his face. “Yeah, it’s no problem! I’ll drive her.”
You narrowed your eyes at your sister, but didn’t push back. “That’s cool with me. I’ll go get my sweater.”
-
You squeezed your fingers nervously as Miles turned the key and brought the car roaring to life. 
What could you possibly say to him? ‘Hey, so we almost kissed earlier. Thoughts on that?’ 
“What kinda drinks y’all need?” his voice ripped you away from your thoughts as he pulled onto the road. 
You didn’t answer, your eyes fixated on the motion of his hands spinning the wheel.
“Y/N?”
You blinked.
“Huh?”
“What kind of drinks are we looking for?”
“Oh, um, wine and cider and shit,” you waved a hand in the air, “Stuff that goes with turkey.”
“Cool.”
The ride was quiet, largely because you were busy racking your brain trying to think of something–anything–to fill the silence with. You’d already asked about school, and you knew Miles’ parents. But what about him?
He stopped at a red light, drumming his fingers on the wheel.
“So what do you do, like, outside of school?”
You winced. Small talk was not your forte.
Miles didn’t seem to mind though, appearing deep in thought before he answered, “I draw, when I got the time. Sing a little on the side.”
“I believe you. You look like you have a nice voice.”
An impish smile played on his lips. “Is that your way of saying I’m cute?”
“I…” the words were trapped in your throat. Part of you didn’t want to tell him the truth outright, but he was smiling at you and the sparkle in his eyes made you feel funny. 
“Maybe. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So there’s a low, but non-zero chance.”
You snorted, “Alright, physics major. The light’s green.”
“Oh, shit. Thanks.” Miles focused his attention back onto the road and continued driving.
You didn’t say anything more for the remainder of the ride, but he caught you staring at him every now and then through the rear view mirror, curiosity written on your face.
Soon enough, he pulled over in front of the supermarket.
“Think you’ll find ‘stuff that goes with turkey’ in here?”
“I hope so,” you laughed, unbuckling your seat belt, “My sister’s gonna put me in the dirt if I don’t.”
“Well, good luck!”
Miles unlocked the door, and you set out on your mission.
Luckily, it only took you about twenty minutes to locate a bottle of moscato and some hard apple cider. Just as he saw you emerge from the double doors, though, a familiar buzzing in the back of his head tipped him off.
Really? On Thanksgiving?
A man wearing an inconspicuous black ski mask and hoodie stood waiting by the entrance, ready to strike. 
“Yo, empty your pocke–”
Miles swung into action the moment he spotted the gleam of a firearm.
You yelped as a string of white web shot out from seemingly nowhere and yanked the gun from your assailant’s hands. 
“It’s the holidays! C’mon, man!” 
“Spider-Man?” Your jaw dropped at the sight of the masked hero. 
He was perched on top of a low building right next to the supermarket, only his white eyes and the bright red streaks lining his suit visible in the pitch-black of night.
“At your service, ma’am!” 
With a quick salute, he was gone as suddenly as he’d appeared. Like, literally gone. You didn’t see him leave.
You let out a deep exhale and made your way back to Miles’ car, but you couldn’t see him in the window. A pit began to form in your stomach, until a voice made you jump.
“Hey, you alright?”
It was Miles, who had somehow appeared at your side without a sound. He was out of breath, leaning his elbow on the side of the vehicle for support.
Your eyes narrowed. “I’m…fine. Are you okay? Where’d you go?”
“Bathroom,” he lied. He pointed towards the bags you were holding. “Need help with those?”
You handed them over without a second thought. “Definitely. You know this nigga almost robbed me outside the store just now? Then, right as he’s about to pull a gun on me, guess who shows up?”
Miles grinned knowingly. “Spider-Man?”
“Showed up quick as hell! Even on Thanksgiving, can you imagine?”
“Crazy.”
He opened the door to the passenger’s side for you to get in. 
“Thanks.”
Miles did a slight bow, allowing you to catch a flash of red and black peeking out from beneath his jacket. You had assumed that he was wearing a turtleneck at first, but upon closer inspection–
“At your service,” he said with a grin before making his way over to the driver’s seat.
As you shut the door, Spider-Man’s voice returned to you.
At your service, ma’am.
The rest of the way home, you replayed both sentences in your head, alternating between the two and replaying the night’s events.
Miles had just so happened to reappear mere seconds after Spider-Man had said the words. They even shared an accent. You considered the absurd possibility for a moment; the police chief’s son being the masked vigilante would make quite the headline, almost poetic in its irony. 
Too poetic.
But just as you were about to let it go, Miles went over a speedbump, causing a jolt that made something begin to slip out from his jacket’s right pocket.
Black, red and white.
You pondered how to broach the subject once he pulled up in front of your house, when a lightbulb went off in your head.
Reaching over to the red button that released your seatbelt, you pressed it halfway, over and over again.
“Miles, I think my seatbelt’s stuck. Help me out?”
Miles removed his own with a click. “Sure, lemme see.”
He leaned over and reached the passenger’s seat with ease. His breath hit the side of your neck as he moved closer, making your heart rate quicken, but you maintained focus.
What mattered was that he was in close quarters. You had to see the suit.
“Got it,” Miles said once he released your not-actually-stuck seatbelt. “You’re free–”
Before he could move any further, you grabbed the collar of his jacket and unzipped it halfway.
“I knew it!”
The look of sheer terror on Miles’ face sealed the deal. Here was Spider-Man, in all of his glory.
“Are you…gonna…tell anyone?” 
His voice was hushed as he spoke. Almost small. You looked into those round, glassy eyes and felt a wave of guilt. 
“I–no, of course not,” you shook your head. “I just…I needed to be sure.”
He relaxed, some of the humor returning to his face. “And now that you’re sure?”
A cheeky grin spread across your lips.
“I guess I should thank you.”
You tugged at his collar one more time and brought his lips crashing against yours.
After getting over the initial surprise, Miles brought a hand up to caress one side of your face and deepen the kiss. Your other hand reached up and brushed the cold metal of one of his stud earrings before you snaked your arm around his neck.
Miles was the first to pull away, zipping his jacket back up.
“I don’t think I can stay in this position for that long,” he smiled. “We gotta get back inside with these drinks.”
You sighed, head still pounding with adrenaline. “You’re right, let’s get outta here.”
By the time you made it up the steps, Alanna was already holding the door open. She gave your face a good once-over and stifled a laugh.
“Did you two have fun on your little adventure?”
You took one of the bags from Miles and held it up like a trophy. “Yup, mission accomplished.”
“That’s not what I meant, baby,” she gestured towards her lips and mouthed “your lip gloss.”
Your eyes widened as she snickered, and let the two of you in. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll fix it in the bathroom. Hurry up!”
A few makeup wipes and a liner touch-up later, you emerged from the bathroom just in time for dinner.
Out of all the chairs strewn about the living room, you ended up seated between Miles and Jefferson. The former kept quiet, save for the occasional joke or wink thrown in your direction. Jefferson kept inquiring about your studies, which would then bounce back to Miles’ studies, which Miles then would somehow deflect back to you. Any and all conversation with Jeff became awkward, considering you had just made out with his son.
The party ending felt like a weight lifted off of your shoulders.
You stood at the entrance, waving goodbye to the steady stream of guests as their conversations stretched on, even from their cars. The Morales family were the last to leave.
After his parents went down the steps, Miles stopped in front of the door.
“Hey,” he smiled and tilted his head.
“Hey. You ready to go? I’m not letting you stay the night,” you teased.
“Wasn’t planning to, I promise. I just wanted to ask…” 
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “When are you goin’ back to campus?”
“Monday.”
Miles winced, “Damn.”
“I know, I literally gotta start packing to-night! It’s a nightmare!”
“In that case,” he took out his phone, and held it out to you gingerly. “Can we keep in touch?”
You accepted the offer, rapidly entering your digits and saving them under your name. “Worried about me spilling your secret identity?”
“Absolutely. I gotta keep an eye on you from now on. Like witness protection, but backwards–”
“Miles, vamos!” Rio called out from a distance.
“I’m coming, mami!” he replied before turning back to you. “See you winter break?”
You planted a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe. Non-zero chance.”
"I'll take it."
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saetgvia · 4 months
Text
spark | wriothesley
in which you and wriothesley find an unlikely spark.
CHAPTER ONE: A NOT SO MEET-CUTE
prince!wrio x fem!noble!reader, invented country au
✧ genre: fluff, angst...? maybe...? if you squint...?, arranged marriage trope
✧ tw: none, if you see any lmk <3
✧ word count: 1.32K
✧ playlist: spark - taeyeon, radio - lana del rey, deja vu - txt, darl+ing - seventeen, invu - taeyeon, agora hills - doja cat, killin' me good - jihyo, i like you (a happier song) - doja cat & post malone, fever - enhypen, eleven - ive, hype boy - newjeans, hard to love - rose, sour grapes - le sserafim, oh my god - adele, my head & my heart - ava max, nonsense - sabrina carpenter, the feels - twice
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i. a not so meet-cute
'what.' you stare in disbelief at your parents. 'there's no way. NO. WAY.' arranged marriages only happen in books. of course you'd heard of them in your country of azura, some distant cousin being married to some lord or other for alliances or whatever, but you'd always been free to do what you wanted, marry who you chose. your parents never put any restrictions on you, but this out of the blue is so- 'unexpected! what? i thought-' 'circumstances change.' your father replies shortly. 'i- you- you can't do this!' you cry, becoming more and more panicked. you wanted to fall in love, marry someone you chose! and now, you were going to be pawned off to someone you didn't even know. wait...
'can you at least tell me who i'm being given away to?' 'you're not being given away-' 'oh mom, it's fine. i know how this works. so, who is it?'
wriothesley. the prince of emeia. a name that struck fear into your very soul. not because he was a terrible ruler or a womaniser. he was, in fact, the complete opposite. you'd heard tales from all over the kingdom in the form of gossiping ladies giggling behind fans, sipping their tea and gushing to your mother. she, in turn, laughed daintily, and turned to you with a pointed look. how could she even know? his parents kept him hidden away from the world, their precious son too perfect for mere commoners. no, you were afraid because you didn't know him. because he seemed too good to be true. and most of all, because he was about to become your life. you should have seen this coming.
'i won't go.'
your father's eyes narrow, and you can see his neatly trimmed beard bristling in anger. you've never seen him like this before, and over something as silly as an arranged marriage? your mother puts a placating arm on his bicep, and he shoots her a look, both of them communicating through their gaze. finally, he exhales, evidently trying to calm himself, and speaks.
'we... we're in debt. remember that deal with ceria? the cherry liqueur? they've been selling it for exorbitant prices without giving us any of the profits, and we've been depending on that to get us out of last winter's snowstorms. emeia noticed us struggling and have so kindly offered to refill our coffers in exchange for your hand.' there's a hint of annoyance in his tone, and you begin to understand just how much this is weighing on him. but still, how can you throw your life away like that?
'i'll think about it.'
⭑⭑⭑
'but i don't WANT to!' you shriek into your pillow, kicking your feet in true spoiled girl fashion. your maid, or rather, your friend, giselle, winces, and tries to comfort you.
'hey, maybe it won't be so bad! everyone says he's a sweetheart!'
'but everyone ISN'T BEING MARRIED OFF TO HIM!'
'think about your parents, hon! you can always divorce him later, run away, fake your own death-'
she breaks off at your deadpan gaze, and starts to giggle, until you start to giggle, and you're both in your bed cackling uncontrollably. you wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, and look at giselle over the rumpled sheets, her eyes twinkling, and you wish there were more people like her in the world. sitting up, you clasp her hands between yours, and trace the lines on her weathered palm. you exhale, and make up your mind. you have to marry wriothesley.
'giselle... i'll marry wriothesley. but only if you come with me.'
⭑⭑⭑
'woah woah woAH-' you cry as you stumble. your beautiful, floor-length cherry-red dress, so stunning to look at when you were standing in one place, was nothing but a nuisance when you were walking. for comfort, you'd opted for soft velvet flats instead of the heels sent for you; you could see the flaws in this decision now. but instead of breaking your nose, you're met with shoes. shiny leather shoes, buckled with silver, and a pair of strong - warm - arms gripping your own. slowly raising your head, your eyes land on a beautiful face. chiseled jawline, chiseled nose, chiseled forehead, somehow his neck is also chiseled. but his lips, so plump and pink and soft, and his eyes, like chips of blue ice, hold a twinkle of mirth.
'woah there, careful. wouldn't want you to get hurt.'
his voice is honey, smooth and sweet, and it washes over your ears. you can't stop staring, enthralled by his gaze.
'cat got your tongue?'
you snap out of your daze, realising you're still half on the mysterious stranger, and stumble backwards. you brush your hands over your dress, the gold embroidery rough under your fingers.
'sorry. i uh- i have to go.'
you picked up your skirts and hurried back towards the throne room. you didn't think you could get so lost trying to go to the bathroom! stopping before a mirror adorning the wall, you take a quick look at your appearance. the crimson dress fit your figure wonderfully, golden embroidery curling up the sides and front of your dress, forming a pattern of flames that ended just below your neckline. your hair, so lustrous and thick, had managed to escape its tight bindings, so you gasp heavily as you catch your breath and tie your hair up at the same time, the ribbon cherry-red to match your dress. adjusting yourself one final time, you nod to the guards outside to open the door for you, and walk into the throne room.
you're once again taken by surprise at the grandness of it all. absolutely everything inside is scarlet, a stark contrast to the cool blue drapes of azura. you'd always found it funny how blue was your dukedom's colour and yet your primary export was cherries, something so very opposite. the floor, carpeted in lush red and cream formed a pathway up to the raised thrones, all three of them cushioned by velvet and adorned with gold scrollwork and filigree. behind the thrones and all around, rich tapestries decorate the walls, vermilion depictions of the kingdom's greatest victories. you weren't sure if they were there to celebrate or intimidate. maybe both. a big, booming laugh reaches your ears, and your gaze is drawn to the antechamber towards the back of the room. ah, so that's where they've gone to. you scurry towards the chamber, nodding with as much regal-ness as you could muster towards the servants who caught your eye and sank into a deep curtsy or bow. straightening your dress, again, out of habit, you step into the room.
your parents are laughing, your father releasing his great guffaw and your mother tittering behind her gloved hand. the king of emeia, a warm, welcoming person with greying ebony hair and soft blue eyes was telling some kind of story, while his wife, the queen, sat, watching the scene with adoration and satisfaction. the queen noticed you first, her brown eyes crinkling into a sweet smile as she noticed you.
'oh there you are! we were wondering where you'd gone.'
'sorry... i got a little lost.' you take your seat on another velvet sofa, picking up your cup of tea. the servants appeared to have brought more plates of food in, the table once again covered in delicate china piled high with macarons and pastries and little sandwiches cut into perfect triangles. you pick up one of the treats, a golden swirl of pastry with colourful fruit peeking out, and bite into it. it's heavenly, deliciously flaky and sweet on your tongue. you pick it up and munch happily on it again.
'ah, here he is. wrio! here is the girl we wish for you to marry.'
you choke. because when you look up, you see the same chiseled features, the same lips, the same eyes and the same smile.
'THAT'S wriothesley?'
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from saetgvia: i have never started writing a fic so fast oh my god??? very excited for this fic and i hope you are too <3 stay tuned will have part 2 coming out soon!
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please like and reblog my work! tumblr relies on reblogs to function, so help my work be seen by more people <3 my spark taglist and overall is now open, drop an ask if you want to be added! just specify which one.
© saetgvia 2024. do not copy or repost.
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riphobisbraces · 1 year
Text
The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader
Hybrid/Royal AU
~ chapter 2 ~
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[ word count: 3400+ ]
❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 x reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror
❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, I'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask! 🖤)
——— summary ———
In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?
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[ chapter 2 ]
chapter content warnings: possible emetophobia warning: mentions of needing to throw up (character doesn’t actually throw up though) and unintentional self-harm.
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The cold night’s air trickled between Namjoon’s thick fur. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind, faster than the paws carrying him and the princess. What was the princess doing outside? Why did she look so familiar and most of all, are his pack mates okay?
Growling out of frustration whilst running into the night, he shakes those thoughts out. For now he has only one thing he needs to focus on. Getting you to safety and he knows exactly where you’ll be safe.
-
Multiple hurried footsteps and panicked screams filled the room. It was chaos. What was a joyful and merry evening turned into absolute havoc.
The once golden room suddenly having turned cold and blue, its warmth having completely washed away. Hobi quickly ran and tried to push through the crowd looking for any of his pack mates. It seemed impossible with the sea of people engulfing him.
Just as Hobi started to feel hopeless, he found two of his pack members, Jin and Jimin, spotting them from across the room. Hobi used his hands to cup around his face before yelling desperately “JIN! JIMIN-AH! “ The two instantly recognized that voice.
They both quickly snapped their heads into the direction of where it came from, spotting their fellow pack mate trying to make his way through the wave of people. What after seemed like forever, they all finally reached each other, Jin grabbing onto Hoseok’s hands.
“Where are the others” Jin quickly questioned. “I don’t know, you’re the first two that I found” replied Hoseok. Jimin starts glancing around, running his hand through his hair as he pondered.
“Well wherever they are, they can handle themselves. For now we have to neutralize the threat.” Jimin asserts before turning to his fellow knight and pack member, Hoseok. “Hobi, you were the one who alerted that the princess was being attacked, where did the arrow come from?” Questioned the knight.
Hobi doesn’t waste time in answering, “Follow me, I know what direction it came from. Possibly even the shooting location” briskly, Hobi starts making his way to where he suspects it came from, with Jin and Jimin following closely and quickly behind.
-
The temperature around your body is warm. You feel snug and drowsy. Hearing the crackle of fire wood just makes you want to fall back even deeper into your slumber.
The smell of cedar filling your nostrils, comforting you furthermore. Shifting around and moving your legs, you start to feel the softness of blankets underneath, gliding against your skin as you moved. You start to wonder when was the last time you felt this pleasant..
Alas the sudden realization of what had just transpired abruptly started streaming back into your head. Quickly, you sat up, instinctively backing up and grabbing onto whatever was underneath you which happened to be the same blanket that had just brought you so much comfort.
“Your highness, you’re awake” a deep voice suddenly declared, making you shoot your head into the direction it came from. Letting go of the blanket in defense you realized it was the same man from before, the wolf hybrid. He was sitting beside your bedside in a wooden chair.
You didn’t get to have a good look at him before due to the havoc but now that you are, you realized that he’s a gorgeous man. He had tan skin and dark siren-like eyes. His hair was dark, adorned with an undercut.
You found yourself studying his features, they were soft and welcoming. As you sat in silence, taking in the man before you, the same voice suddenly interrupted your admiration. “your highness? are you alright?” his face contorted into worry.
How embarrassing. “y-yes, I am alright.” You answered before quickly looking down to avoid the man you had just been in awe of. Feeling his gaze burn into you, you can’t help but look back up, taking in your surroundings instead, trying to ignore the man obviously examining you with his eyes.
The room was lit with an orange hue from the fire, the room being much smaller than any you’ve ever been in before. Instead of the white walls and golden accents you were accustomed to, you were surrounded by walls of bark.
The walls simply decorated with some little paintings here and there. Looking around some more you noticed this room had no windows, how peculiar you thought to yourself. You noticed some bookshelves hung on the wall above the fireplace across from you, filled with old and torn books much like your own books.
Once you felt you’ve taken in enough of your surroundings and felt more at ease about the man that was studying you, you looked back down. Examining the sheets you were covered in, you realized they were a maroon shade. the colour was dull but you could tell it had been a vivid maroon at some point, or even red.
You decide to finally ask the questions that had been on your mind since you woke up. “Where am I? Are my parents okay?” you asked feebly, ashamed and feeling as though these circumstances were all your fault. Still looking down, you grip onto the sheets once again awaiting his answer.
“You’re at my pack’s den. Kings orders were to get you away from the chaos until it was deemed safe. Unfortunately I don’t know about the well being of your parents but as you might know, your mother didn’t attend the ball, just your father. Last I heard, he was being led to safety.” He replied with a gentle voice, as to not stress you out anymore than you already are. Sighing you let go of your grip to hold your face. covering your eyes, you just sit there, not wanting to cry in front of a stranger especially as princess.
You were to be queen one day and queens cannot show weakness, especially to their subjects. Your heart filled with rue, you decide to let go of your face. Turning to the man once again. “Your name…. It’s sir Namjoon.. right?” you inquired. His eyes widening from the sudden question and the fact that you knew his name.
You must of heard it when Hoseok was talking to him. His face quickly turns from surprise to a gentle smile “yes your highness, my name is Namjoon. Sir Kim Namjoon.” he confirmed.
He then got up from his seat to bow, before gently grabbing your hand with both of his. Softly, he brought it to his lips, you could feel his breath against your hand before he bestowed a kiss of respect upon it, his lips ever so slightly brushing against it. You’re used of servants bobbing you a curtsy or kissing your hand out of respect but this feels different.
You could feel your face start to get hot at the contact, stomach contorting into a ball of what feels like butterflies trying to fight their way out. Taking your hand back, you glance back at the man, met with the same warm smile you had been examining before.
Scratching the back of your neck, you quickly turn your head to face the other way, an attempt at looking at anything but the beautiful man in front of you. You knew your face was probably the colour of crimson so this was as an attempt of hiding that. Glancing around, you remembered how there were no windows, what time was it?
The last thing you remembered was riding away from the palace on top of the wolf hybrid. Had you fallen asleep? You looked for a clock in vain before briskly turning back to face the very man you were just trying to avoid eye contact with. “Ummm… how long was I sleeping for? What time is it?” You questioned, fidgeting with your hands, a bit embarrassed that you had fallen asleep on the hybrid.
“Oh! I apologize, it is the next day. it’s….” he looked down at his watch “09:37” looking back up at you he continued “speaking of, my pack should be back soon, along with your servants and a carriage to escort you back to the palace” he smiled. It’s the next day? You slept for so long, and he had to watch you the whole time.
Your guilt growing, you look down at your hands. Your chest weighing you down, you uttered “I’m… I’m sorry.. I fell asleep on you...” you sniffled. Surprised by your own unexpected moment of weakness, you really didn’t want to cry but you just couldn’t fight the tears.
Oblivious to the man’s sudden worried expression, you continued “and you had to watch me… all night… it’s all my fault, I-I put your pack in d- danger-“ you tried to continue as the lump in your throat fought to take over. But before it could, abruptly, your vision is covered.
Large arms are wrapped around you. They feel warm and comforting. You’re being gently pressed against a broad chest before you realize, he’s hugging you. His scent and warmth instantly calming you down.
Your muscles relaxed and you went loose while you breathed in his scent, closing your eyes. Slowly breathing in and out to calm yourself down, you just sat on the bed, letting yourself be embraced by the man. The embrace is cut short by the realization of what Namjoon had just done.
Gently pulling away, “Y-your highness…” he stammered, clearly embarrassed and quite frankly, scared of what he had just done. Standing up straight, he explained “please forgive me, that was out of line. it’s just… you looked so sad..I felt…” he continued, letting go of your arms to run his hands through his hair but before he could finish, the sound of horses and footsteps cut him off, making the both of you stand up.
-
“thank you once again sir Namjoon, to you and your pack for keeping the princess safe and your services” Your father’s servant said to Namjoon, bowing gratefully to the wolf hybrid. “ it’s really no problem, we are glad to be of service to the king” the hybrid replied, returning the bow.
Your fathers leading officers and servants had come to pick you up from Sir Namjoon’s and his pack’s den. Sitting in the carriage, you stared at the man who had saved you the night before. Pondering of what had transpired just before your father’s men had arrived.
You’ve never been held before by anyone before but your parents and governess. It felt nice. the different body type holding you, way bigger than your parents or governess’ body. It made you feel at ease and protected.
Suddenly your stare is met with his, his head turning to face you. He flashes you a smile before you quickly look down in embarrassment, fiddling with your hands. How rude of you, this man had just saved your life and you repay him by staring?
Footsteps interrupt your mental self beating, realizing they belong to the wolf hybrid that had saved you the night before. He’s coming this way, why do you feel so nervous? “Your highness?” he inquires.
“yes?” You answer with a small smile. “Im very sorry about… what happened in the den. I was out of line and I can only hope you and your father could forgive me for crossing such boundaries” all he did was hug you. You knew it was only a problem because you were the princess but what if you weren’t… would he….
You cut your own thoughts off. You can’t be thinking like that. “oh.. yeah.. please pay it no mind, I really didn’t mind… I actually.. quite enjoyed it.” You admit, mentally slapping yourself as soon as you said so.
A flush quickly took over his face, heart skipping a beat before he started smiling widely. “well.. me too.. you’re highness.” he also admits. You’re both looking at each other, smiling in silence.
Rubbing your hands together nervously, no one’s ever looked at you for this long before and neither have you ever looked at someone for so long. You didn’t want to admit it but for some reason, you wanted to be held by him again, to have his arms around your body, keeping it in a cocoon of safety and maybe… maybe even love-
“WE’RE OFF IN TWO MINUTES” the sound of your fathers men startled you from your thoughts, maybe for good reason too. “well, I guess I’m off.” The hybrid proclaimed with a half smile. “Me too I guess” you responded.
He then reached into the carriage to grab your hand, gently brushing a kiss against it once more just like he did inside, making your heart flutter. He then bowed and said “goodbye Princess. I hope our paths cross again one day” he smiled. You felt your stomach do flips as you looked down.
You uttered a shy “goodbye sir Namjoon… so do I” before looking back up. Looking into each others eyes, you smiled at each other one last time, the hybrid giving you a nod before reluctantly turning away. “MEN, WE’RE OFF” and just like that, the carriage started to move, finding that your eyes never left the man and the direction he was going.
While watching him, you notice his figure was suddenly accompanied by 6 other ones, all walking into the den you had just vacated in. Who were they? Looking back into the front of the carriage, reality started to sink in and your circumstances.
Realizing your parents were waiting for you back home, a sinking feeling settles in. You are in so much trouble.
-
Sitting in the plush chair in your room, you can’t help but think about the men from last night. Hobi, was it? And Namjoon. They were both very attractive yes but truth is, that wasn’t the only reason you kept thinking about them.
Who were they? What were they doing at the ball and why did they seem to know you? Sitting back on the chair, you brought your legs up, holding them against your chest.
Most importantly, how did Hobi know you were the princess? Sure he said you smelt of human but don’t other human hybrids do too? You are a full human though you thought to yourself. Maybe that’s it. You were missing the hybrid scent and perhaps he put two and two together, you and your parents are the last full humans in the nations after all.
Groaning, you slightly swung your head back in frustration. You need to see them again, you thought to yourself. You need answers. Knocking brings you out of your rumination, “your highness?” A voice spoke behind your doors.
“yes?” You replied. “your presence is requested in the courtroom by your Father” Shit. You knew your father would be livid about all of this but the courtroom?
What was he up to? Was he going to send you away? All of these worries ran through your head before you stood up. Turning toward the door, you croaked out a pathetic “I’ll be there in five minutes”.
-
Your steps echoed the hallways, shoes clacking against the marble. Hugging yourself while walking, you can’t help but tighten your grip around your arms the closer you get to the courtroom. Your eyes trailing the passing paintings hung alongside the hallway, a feeble attempt to keep your mind calm.
Alas it’s futile as your thoughts keep running your mind rapid. What if father sends me to a nunnery you think, you’ve never been away from your parents your whole life so this frightens you. Or worse, what if he decides to keep you locked up in one of the dungeons for the rest of your life.
You find your nails starting to dig into your skin, you need to throw up. You stop and kneel. Coughing as you hold on to your stomach. Nothing is coming out.
You can’t throw up but you need to. Tears started beaming through your eyes before you quickly got up. You dusted yourself off and wiped your tears. You need to do this. You need to get it over with.
As you continue your way down. The doors of the courtroom finally come into sight, making your heart drop. ‘This is it’ you think to yourself. You feel as though you’re not in control, you just want to run away but your body is calmly walking toward the doors with no hesitation.
Reaching for the handle, you gently turn it, using your weight to push it open. Why can’t you run, you just want to turn back. Entering the room, the discussion within it instantaneously became quiet. All eyes turned to face you.
A large L shaped table sat in the middle of the room, your Father at the end of the L. The courtroom had high ceilings and tall windows, velvet red curtains draped over them. You cleared your throat, ignoring the eyes on you, you held your head up high and calmly began to make your way to the end of the table, where your father was.
The once clamorous room, was now filled with nothing but the clacking of your shoes against marble. All you could feel were dozens upon dozens of burning gazes, almost making you trip as you walk. Once you made it to the end, you looked at your father.
Meeting eyes with his, his face is filled with sadness but somehow also solace. Without warning, something overtakes you. You thought you could do it but your Fathers’ face had made you weak. You were guilty.
You sank to the floor almost mimicking the way your heart felt. Kneeling down, you placed your forehead to the ground, hands placed side by side. Gasps and muttering quickly filling the courtroom at the spectacle, silencing as fast as they started at the wave of your Father’s hand. His sight never leaving you, “Father…” you weakly whispered.
“Please, forgive me… I can’t-“ you were about to finish when you heard a chair being pushed back. You looked up, your father was walking briskly toward you. You were scared but then you noticed his eyes were glossy.
He quickly picked you up from off the floor, embracing you like he never had before. “Daughter…” you hear your father choke out. your eyes were wide when they suddenly filled with tears at the realization and relief.
Feeling safe, you quickly wrapped your arms around him. Oh how you loved your father. After a few minutes, your father pulls away from the hug, wiping your tears. “a future queen should never cry in public” he reminded you, smiling.
You chuckled at the joke “yes father” looking down as he pushes your hair behind your ears. He was so glad that you were safe, he didn’t even care about the disobedience. One thing was made clear to him though, he could not stop you. So if he couldn’t stop you, you would just have to be protected at all times.
“Daughter, I know I cannot stop your desires to leave the palace, I can see that clearly now..” he admits shamefully while looking down. “and because of last nights threat, you will have to be guarded at all times, even more so than before” your heart began to palpitate in excitement. Wait… does this mean.. you can leave the palace?
Looking into your fathers eyes with anticipation, you spoke up “what are you saying father?”. Your father sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose “you may leave the palace from time to time, but you must be guarded by all seven while doing so.”
all seven? You cocked your head in confusion before your father registered your questioning look, clearing his throat before continuing “because of last nights threat, the court and I have decided you need to be guarded at all times” guarded? Like, a babysitter? “by whom?” You inquired.
Your father snaps his fingers, signalling to one of his servants to bring whoever it is, in. Hurriedly, the servant runs to the other door connecting to the next room, opening it. The men who came waltzing in, made your breath hitch.
It was seven handsome knights, two of them being the same men from the night before, Hobi and Namjoon. After quickly scanning them, your eyes met with Namjoon’s. A smirk appearing on his face. “I bet you didn’t think our paths would cross again so soon, your highness.”
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A/N: OOOOOOOO cliffhanger! I know I said we would meet the boys this chapter but I didn’t want to rush things, howeverr I PROMISE we will meet the rest of them in the upcoming chapter :) anyway what did you think of the chapter? Any notes are deeply appreciated, especially comments. It makes me so happy that people are actually reading this, I promise I’ll do my best to deliver! Have a good rest of your day/night everyone, I’m gonna get started on chapter three once I wake up tomorrow ☺️
P.s I was asked about a tag list, so if anyone is interested, just ask! I’ll be putting the tag list on the next chapter xx
Next chapter:
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iluvshinytwink · 2 years
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can u write for Jude when he has a nightmare where the reader tells him she doesn't love him and leaves him but when he wakes up she is not next to him which sends him into a spiral and freaks out looking for her not knowing she had left to get breakfast so when she comes back she finds him full on sobbing on the ground b/c he thought she actually left him sry if that was too much
Sweet Carolina - Jude Bellingham
"So don't write me a letter 'cause I'll always be right here. Closer to you than your next breath, my dear."
Now Playing . . . Sweet Carolina by Lana Del Rey
A/N: i LOVE LOVELOVELOVLEOVLE this request bro u have no idea, thank u for requesting and i hope you enjoy this!
im in extra emo today so yk this shit gon be detailed asf 🤞
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The fact that your mind can harvest your deepest fears and channel them into reality by nightfall is scary, horrifying. The fact that sometimes you do not even realize that you fear it is what makes the human mind so scary, so unpredictable.
One day you could be kissing your lover goodnight and by the time you fall asleep, horror comes into light and no one will hear your screams, your horror, your pain.
The night ended in bliss, Jude held you close as he kissed your head. Jude remembers you giggling at his sweet action, he felt your breath push into his chest, your heartbeat slowly lulling him to sleep.
"Jude!" an echoed voice called out. Jude looked around, his surroundings black, empty. "Jude!" the same voice called out again, he realized that this was your voice. His eyes look around in panic, not knowing where this voice is coming from. He swallows a lump in his throat, trying to calm himself down. "Jude?" you called again, but this time it was audible, he could hear it clearly, like you were behind him. He looks at his back in a flash and there you were, standing.
Jude feels a sigh of relief escape his lips. "You scared me." Jude smiled. "Jude, you have to face it." you said. "What? What do you mean?" Jude asked. "You have to realize that I don't love you." you looked into his eyes and he looked back at yours. Your eyes were dull, lifeless, emotionless in a way. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. "What do you.. mean?" he repeated, this time his voice was weaker. "I don't love you, Jude. You need to realize that." you shrugged, walking around him. His mouth gaped open, trying to find a response other than the response he just gave.
"I never loved you." you coldly said. Jude's eyes sting of tears, he couldn't see nor think straight.
Then, you disappear.
Jude backs up, trying to collect his thoughts-- trying to differentiate false from true.
"Jude." your voice calls out. Jude flinches. "We need a break." you plainly said. His eyes wandered, trying to look at anything but you. "Look at me." you demanded. Jude's eyes paused on yours. "Maybe not a break.. maybe permanently." you looked down at the floor.
As quickly as you joined his nightmare, you left.
He fumbles to the ground, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to think. Tears stained his cheeks and every memory he had with you suddenly flashed in mind. Were those fake? Were those just forced smiles, forced laughs, forced kisses? Did you really not think of him like how he thinks of you? Did you really not feel what he feels? Did you really not love him?
Jude's eyes shot open, a series of panicked breaths leaving his mouth. The room was dark but something in him knew that this wasn't a nightmare, this was reality. The air around him was cold. Instinctively, his hand reaches out for the other side of the bed, for you. But it was empty. Jude panics and sits up, he looked at his side and as he feared, it was empty.
Was his dream true? Was he really just relying on memories to remember the times you two had and not realizing that you two have parted? Was your touch fake? Was your voice fake? What was real?
Even though he felt himself falling into despair he didn't want to give up, he couldn't.
Jude gets out of bed and quickly leaves the room. His throat was caught in a knot but somehow he still managed to call out your name. He called out your name. hoping for an answer, hoping to hear your voice to reassure himself that it was just a stupid nightmare. But no answer.
Jude searches every room in his house but there was no sign of you. He starts losing hope, with every room that he checks left empty he feels the tears prickle harder.
With every room, he remembers a moment that the two of you spent there. He wants to believe this was just another nightmare, a nightmare upon another nightmare. He begged that he would wake up in a few minutes with you still in his arms, peacefully snoring.
He stands still for a moment, and for just a moment he feels his tears blur his vision. He looks down in the ground, and his tears fell.
Was it really all fake?
You open the front door quietly, thinking that your boyfriend was still fast asleep. You walk down with breakfast in your hands until you hear a sniffle. You stopped walking. Worry coursed through your veins.
You put the things in your hands down and you continued walking to find your boyfriend.
"Jude?" you nervously called out.
Jude pauses. He remembers this voice in his dream, and in the back of his mind he wants to think he's in a dream but his heart wanted to seek out the voice.
He holds his breath and starts walking towards the voice. He didn't care if it was fake, he didn't care if this was an illusion in his mind, he just wanted reassurance. He just wanted comfort.
Finally. he stops in front of you and his heart sinks. You look at him, his eyes were laced with tears, his cheeks were stained. "Jude?" you managed to whisper. He throws his arms around you. He hugged you tightly, like if he let go-- you'd disappear again.
"Jude, what's wrong?" you asked, returning the hug. Jude lets the last of his tears fall.
This was true. This was real.
Jude's legs crumble beneath and he eventually falls to the ground, dragging you with him. "Jude?" you called out once more, hugging him tighter. A shaky sigh leaves his lips, his voice trembles.
You were true, it wasn't an illusion. You came back to him.
bro idk how to end this so like have another cliffhanger or sum 🙄🙄 i personally love the amount of description i put into this bro anyways SMASHSHS!!!?!!?! THAT LIKE BUTTON AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THESE 69 LIKES AND TOE REVEAL 🥶
MY BLICKYYYYY ⁉️⁉️⁉️ UPON DA DRESSAAA 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Also before i forget, this will be considered as my weekly wednesday post because i have class on wednesday, i think ill be able to post on friday 🤨🤨
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firefeelsfine · 1 month
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HELLO pretty people!!!🌸 <3
The intro post is finally here...🫴🏻✨
ABOUT ME :- she/her | 8teen | Pisces | ENFJ -A | Girl's girl | certified panick mechine | super random | desi | hopeless romantic.🌼
Wanna know more about me, here you go:-
🌸 yepp, so my name is KEHKESHA which means Galaxy & The name originates from Persian language.
( I am truly in love with my name, so please try not to mess it up while interacting. )
🌸I am a die heart fan of SRK and RK.
( it's okay if you don't like them or the way they act...I respect your views nevertheless.)
🌸what do I mostly post?
Random shit, that's right. Relatable kinda shit , random funny looking pictures , memes and rants. In short everything that would show a sense of carelessness towards life and people. Because let's be honest , we all are struggling with stuff one way or another. So ig it's better to deal with that shit by making it somewhat random.
But but but, at times I may tap into my devdas zone, and post or reblog something kinda sad. ( Not negative or something devestating, just simply sad) Something that may or may not touch that hidden empty void in your heart.
🌸 there is nothing in this world that will ever come close to how much i love tulips 🌷🌷🌷
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🌸I am not religious but very spritual.
🌸I respect every religion with all my heart. I am obsessed with Indian myths and history. I would really appreciate hearing anyone speaking of there culture, the traditions they follow, the facts and the myths, all of it together and everything in between as well. Feel free to reach out to me for the same.
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🌸my favourite colour changes with my mood, today it's rose gold.
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🌸I am seriously very chaotic. If my chaos makes sense to you, we're meant to vibe together.
🌸my favourite vibe:- midnight thoughts with Lo-fi Beats.
🌸 I have bunch of interest, here goes the list:-
• imtiyaz ali movies ( my go to )
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• F.R.I.E.N.D.S ( nothing compares to that common! )
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• music:- jagjit singh, Mukesh, kishore kumar songs are a bliss to me. Shreya Ghoshal, Mohit Chauhan, Arjit Singh top my playlist every now and then. The weekend, JVKE , arctic monkeys, Chris brown make my playlist near to perfect.
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But but but...LANA DEL RAY & ISABEL LAROSA make me tap into my siren self way too quick.
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• I am diagnosed with moderate anxiety and an undiagnosed mild ADHD awaits me.
•THE SCARLET WITCH from the MCU is my comfort character. ( It's weird ik)
• I like every existing shade of maroon.
🌸 relationship status :- in love- hate relationship with my life.
🌸I am in love with the idea of being in love.💌
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🌸I get lost in my books every now & then ( I won't be posting anything about what I read , in this blog, because I cannot tolerate listening to anyone having an opinion on why they don't like a character that I may be obsessed with at that very point of time. I will get defensive and that won't end good . I know me)
🌸 recommendation for kdramas, songs , movies and tv shows of any kind are appreciated.
( need an recommendation from my end ? Do try watching • It's Okay to Not Be Okay • 2020 ‧• Romance • kdrama )
• I really cherish this drama because I feel it is very me coded. Don't forget to tell me your views on it if you do watch it.
🌷🌷🌷 I am obsessed with my govind, my protector, my bestie and my supreme support 🌷🌷🌷
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NAGAR NANDJI NA LAAL...💌💌💌
Also, my two alltime favourite songs ( hindi)
My alltime favourites ( english)
If you're a creep who just wants to disturb people's mental peace first of all get a life, And second of all try not to try your dirty tricks on me. I am not a girl who will ignore or block you. I very well know some people , who would not only trace you but will make sure to get your life as miserable as possible. MARK MY WORDS !!!
PS :- My brother's bachelor's degree in criminal justice works like magic at times.
🌸 other than this , I am a really friendly person, so feel free to reach out to me.
Tons of love to my stunning mutuals <3 🫴🏻✨I adore you guys so damn muchhhhhh 💌
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Text
Never Been Kissed - Part Three - Matthew Knies
Below is part three of my entry for @cellythefloshie's birthday BINGO, featuring Matthew Knies. Again, my 5 tropes (Virginity, Age Gap, Secret Lovers, Meet Cute, Pining) are spread across the 3 parts.
In case you missed it - linking Part One and Two
Warnings/Notes - general smut (p in v), allusions to smut (both m and f oral), swearing. For anyone who read the first two parts, I did adjust the OC's age slightly. I hadn't received any feedback, but after some more research to get a grasp of overall public opinion on age differences in dating, I did change Lana's age slightly.
Celly - I hope you had the most amazing birthday....you are truly one of my favourite writers on here so it makes me happy to try and do something for you. I hope you have enjoyed this journey with Matthew Knies -- I have really enjoyed writing him.
Word Count - 6.7k
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With the promise of their lunchtime rendezvous solidified, the pair went off in their separate directions—Lana heading into the office and Matthew to his condo and then to the gym.
Lana's casual attire—flowy linen pants and a t-shirt—was a clear signal that she did not plan to remain in the office for long. When Ainsley walked in and saw Lana's outfit, with her hair swept up in a loose bun, she knew something was up.
Ainsley approached Lana's office and softly knocked on her door. "Lana… are you okay?"
Lana noticed the concern on her assistant's face and tried to sound reassuring as she fibbed. "I'm fine, but something's not agreeing with me. Since it's slow today, I think I'll take the rest of the day off and deal with this at home."
"Is it like food poisoning or something?"
Lana wanted to tie up the line of questioning quickly and just get the hell out of there. "No—but let's just say my stomach isn't thanking me for the hot dog I had at the ball game yesterday."
"You ate a hot dog? Were you drunk or something? You never eat stuff like that…"
"Yeah, well, now I remember why." Lana rubbed her stomach for extra effect as Ainsley winced in a show of sympathy. "Anyway, call me if there are any issues. Looks like it might be a slow week anyway with the long weekend coming up. A nice relaxed week would be nice before the craziness of September hits."
Ainsley nodded and wished Lana well, telling her to go home and rest before the forecasted downpour begins. Lana felt a twinge of guilt for being untruthful to her assistant, but in this case, the less Ainsley knew, the better. Besides, Lana was aware that Ainsley had veered off the path of truth and accuracy on more than a few occasions.
Although it wasn't because of the hot dog, drinks, or anything else she had eaten the day before, Lana's stomach felt like it was turned upside down. Nervous energy swirled within her as she returned home with a few grocery items and one box of condoms that she painstakingly selected. After seeing so many brands, sizes, sensations, and everything else under the sun in the family planning section of the store, in a panicked state, she called Jason. Lana decided calling her brother would be awkward, and other friends might pry too much, so Jason became her unlikely condom consultant—a role he embraced with surprising enthusiasm.
Lana guesstimated that Matthew might return by about 11:30, so she had time for some personal care. With underarms, bikini line, and legs as smooth as silk, she slathered her favorite lotion from her neck all the way to her polished toes.
She dressed in a simple white t-shirt and loose-fitting pants and went about assembling fresh flatbread pizzas, salad, and some sweet but healthy options for dessert. Lana had no clue what hockey players ate while training, so she was forced to wing it to the best of her ability.
Meanwhile, across the city, Matthew smirked and shook his head as he evaded questions about his recent whereabouts from a few of his teammates, as he quickly packed up to leave the gym. Joe wasn't among those who kept pestering Matthew to come out with them after their session, but being one of his closest friends, he knew something was up with his buddy.
As Matthew smiled and bee-lined it to the door, giving a rather hurried wave to those around him, Joe quickly gathered his things, grabbed his bag, and bolted after him.
"Matty—hold up a sec…" Joe hollered as he ran to catch up to Matthew at the door. With a few long strides, Joe was next to him walking out into the parking lot. Joe chuckled at the determined expression on his good pal's face. "Hot date? Where're you heading off to in such a rush?"
Matthew decided to stretch and manipulate the truth as best as he could. Lying wasn't his forte. "I have an appointment with the realtor—just some things to, uh, you know… finish up—I guess…," his voice trailing off.
"How about we go out to that ping-pong bar tonight—y'know, get some of the boys and get some challenges going?"
Distracted by the rumble of thunder in the distance, Matthew fidgeted, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other. "Uh—yeah, maybe… I'm not sure just yet… let me do what I planned to do and I'll let you know after I get a nap in."
Given his recent mood shifts and the fact he'd been a bit of a ghost for the past couple of weeks, Joe had all but expected Matthew to decline. "Yeah? OK… yeah, man… sounds good… shoot me a text then and we'll figure it out."
Matthew hurriedly threw his bag in the backseat of his vehicle, quickly blurted a "I'll message ya later" towards Joe, and promptly sped off, leaving his good friend even more puzzled than before.
As Matthew eased along Dundas Street West, he thought solely about Lana. He knew he might be too young to even have this notion, but he had never known a woman like her. He scoffed at himself, acknowledging how much of a cliché it was to even think the thought. Falling for a bona fide woman—a stunning, successful, electrifying woman—is what Matthew realized he craved. Girls his age were fun, vibrant, and awesome to hang out with, but the influx of women who'd emerged this past season had provided Matthew with a clearer picture of what he didn't want.
Matthew realized he was licking his lips incessantly as the nervousness began to build when he turned onto Lana's street. Drops of rain began to spatter onto his windshield, filling him with anticipation of the hours ahead. Unless something drastic had changed, he would be making love to Lana sooner rather than later, and this time, he was prepared.
Using the garage pass Lana provided him with that morning, he parked his vehicle beside Lana's in the underground lot and used the elevator that stopped directly in her place. Lana knew he had arrived even before the elevator doors had opened, having spotted him on the security monitor in her kitchen. How the sight of him walking across the lot to the elevators felt bizarrely familiar, Lana would never know. It felt as though he was meant to be there all along.
Matthew's face lit up as Lana came to greet him. She was about to ask him how everything went, but Matthew's mouth was already on hers, muffling her words. She couldn't help but smile and chuckle into his kiss before Matthew's kiss became a little more hungry and his grip around her more needful. She closed her eyes and offered everything she had within her to him.
Matthew began to walk them upstairs to her bedroom, but the sight of the prepared lunch stopped him in his tracks.
He looked at Lana bashfully. "Oh—man, everything looks incredible—sorry, I didn't mean to just come in hot like that… I just couldn't help it. We can eat—I don't want anything to spoil."
With a newfound confidence, Lana spoke as she kissed him. "None of it's gone into the oven yet—so… it can wait… if you had something else in mind…," Lana said softly between kisses, followed by a wink.
That's all the invitation Matthew needed. Within minutes, the two found themselves naked in bed, hands and mouths exploring in tandem, drawing out the most erotic sounds from each other.
The now torrential downpour added a glorious backdrop of white noise which accompanied the sweet, suggestive murmurs spoken against each other's warm flesh.
The condom conversation eventually occurred, and they couldn't stop laughing when they discovered the new bounty of latex sheaths that each had brought.
Lana was ready for Matthew, but nervousness continued to twist in her stomach. She bit her lip and tried to catch her breath as she watched Matthew carefully roll the condom down his firmly erect shaft. Like the day before, she fixated on every detail of his cock, and she felt a greater need for him blossom within her.
Matthew's hips pressed against hers as he leaned over and kissed her deeply. She raked her fingers through the longer strands of hair towards the base of his neck before her palms descended across his shoulders and along the ridges of his back muscles.
Lana spoke near his ear. "I think I'm ready, Matthew. Can we try now?"
Matthew nestled his face in the crook of her neck and responded "Yes" while softly kissing along her throat.
He positioned his cock at her entrance, rubbing the tip through her inner pussy lips. Slowly, he guided the head of his cock into her entrance as he gently pushed the full tip inside of her.
Matthew was careful and studied Lana's expressions and movements after she encouraged him to keep going deeper. She moaned and gripped his rock-hard forearms as he gently pumped his hips, allowing more of his shaft to slide inside her.
Matthew's full length was inside of Lana. Their gaze trailed from each other down to watch his cock enter and stroke her inner walls. Matthew noticed Lana start to relax as her initial discomfort began to dissipate. Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth fell open, and her head lolled to the side as her hands roamed along all of his well-sculpted muscle groups. He gently worked his thumb around her clit, using the same technique that had brought her such bliss the night before. Steadily, Matthew continued his fluid motions, gliding in and out while he carefully caressed her highly sensitive bud, only stopping to wet his thumb, tasting her on his tongue.
Try as he might to prolong it, Matthew was getting close. He threw his head back, grunting loudly as he pumped Lana a little more quickly. When he heard her moan his name, he stretched out on top of her while her hands grasped onto his ass. Lana cried out and held onto Matthew's body as he tried to maintain his rhythm, but she just felt so good. Matthew gasped out that he was going to cum and gripped the pillow on either side of her head, flexing his muscles as his body spasmed and twitched with his release.
He remained on top of and inside Lana for a moment, breathing heavily, knowing how incredible he felt but unsure about Lana. But when their eyes connected, they shared a moment that was full of awe and amazement as their rapid breathing slowed.
For Lana, she had no expectations of what her first time would be like. She knew there would be discomfort and it wasn't going to look like the glorified Hollywood sex scenes she had seen in movies. But Matthew made losing her virginity feel natural, beautiful, and more enjoyable with his attentiveness and care.
The rain continued steadily into the early afternoon, but the dreariness outside was a perfect recipe for some relaxation, which Lana realized she had been lacking. Barely clothed, the two brought the flatbread creations back to bed and only stayed upright long enough to eat and drink. They kissed, chatted, and laughed while their hands feathered over each other's bodies. As they lay together, she learned about some of Matthew's physical scars, and he learned about the more emotional ones from Lana's childhood.
Eventually, Matthew enveloped Lana in his arms and held her tightly as he settled in for a nap. To Lana, a midday nap was unheard of; however, not long after Matthew's rumbling snores filled the room, Lana's eyes grew heavy, and she nodded off to sleep as well.
She awoke hours later to Matthew's mouth kissing her shoulder and his arm reaching over her to grab his phone. She smiled, hearing him groan and yawn beside her. She could hear him swiping and tapping the screen as she remained still with her back facing him.
Lana stirred slightly to signal she was awake. The typing on the screen ceased, and Matthew promptly set his cell aside. His hands then roamed her body, fondling everything within reach.
"Do you have anything going tonight? Or is it okay if I hang out here? I hope you're not sick of me yet," Matthew said.
She visualized his smile, one she found so disarming that she'd immediately cancel her plans, if she had any.
Lana kissed along Matthew's arm. "No, I have no plans… if you would like to, I would love to have you stay." She shifted her body, turning to face him. "So, you have nothing going on? I thought you boys would be constantly out on the town during this last stretch of summer," Lana said with a grin as she ran the back of her fingers down his cheek.
Matthew had just sent a message to Joe cancelling their potential plans for that evening. He knew he had begun to raise some questions in Joe's mind—questions that he would need to address at some point. But how could he when he really had no idea himself about what he and Lana were—or weren't?
"My buddy—Joe Woll—not sure if you know him?"
Lana nodded her head that she did.
"We had talked about getting together tonight with some of the guys that are in town now. But I just cancelled—I sort of wanted to stay here… hang out some more with you." Matthew seemed a little sheepish, now that he actually heard how the words sounded out loud.
Lana's brows furrowed with Matthew's admission. "Matthew—I hope you didn't feel like you had to stay… I know you have a life too—I'm not looking to get in the way of that."
"I know… I'm just not ready to leave this little space that we're in right now." Matthew's voice trailed off and then he chuckled. "I really like being with you and I want to do so much more of this… like, the last couple of days—getting to know so much more about you—I just—fuck—I think you're amazing…." Matthew's cheeks flushed at his confession, uncertain of whether Lana felt an ounce of what he had been feeling. "I hate asking this but, do you feel the same about me? Sort of like—do you have a picture of what we are… or could be? Maybe I shouldn't even be asking this…."
Lana looked up at Matthew, her expression warm and soft and full of affection for him. It boggled her mind that the soon-to-be 22-year-old would ever consider a relationship with someone well beyond his years.
"I'd like to continue this—whatever 'this' is... spending time together. I'm not sure of the proper label. Dating? Seeing each other?" Lana nestled closer to Matthew's chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin. She paused, then added softly, "But there's something I can't quite grasp."
Matthew shifted to get a better view of her face. He hadn't anticipated Lana's question and had to bite his tongue, allowing her to finish before he spoke.
"Why me? I'm not meaning to sound like I'm putting myself down, but I have tried to consider a few angles—you've got this incredible career ahead of you. You could have your pick of women—women more your age. Young women—models, athletes, whomever—that you can start your young lives together," Lana paused, gathering her thoughts. "I'm just… worried… I have lived my twenties. I'm in a whole other decade than you. And please don't get me wrong, when we're together, I rarely think about our age gap. You're so mature, intelligent, articulate, thoughtful..." She punctuated each compliment with a soft kiss on his chest. Then, worry clouded her face. "But don't you ever worry—if we were to start a relationship—that your family, your friends might feel I'm too old for you? You might even feel that way at some point down the road. I've seen all sorts of relationships with athletes, but this—this with me and you is something entirely different—"
Matthew interjected, shaking his head. "God—no. I know there's still so much we have to figure out about each other, but this being different is exactly what I want. I know I might seem too eager with wanting to spend as much time with you as I can—maybe I come across as immature... but it's because ever since we met, I never want our conversations—our time together—to end. It's like the biggest no-brainer I've ever had. So no—I don't think about whether there's a difference in age… I don't feel anything like that. I just can't ignore how great I feel when we're together."
Lana listened closely to Matthew's words, trying to uncover any red flags in how he viewed her. This didn't appear to be a ruse or him looking for a mother-figure, or anything else of that nature.
"Lana—look, I've been on the other side of things with my past girlfriends, even more than once—when everything becomes an argument, when even the simplest things seem hard, and being around them feels like a chore or an obligation. Fuck, I wasn't even looking to start dating—meeting you took me out at the knees and every single time we were together… you just—you brought out the best of me—and I think I did that for you too. So... if you're willing to give me a shot, I'm all in."
Lana's mind, once again, instinctively drifted into her natural mode of calculating risk. She could certainly see risks with Matthew, not just solely from his age, but questioning whether it was emotion or logic driving his feelings for her. She was in her own struggle between using logic or emotion, which was proving easier said than done.
But as Lana ran her hands down his broad chest, she agreed with him in her mind. He brought out the lighter parts of her personality, and she liked it. "I'd like to try. Take things day by day… spend what time we can with each other. I'm not looking to rush anything, and until we're both comfortable, I would prefer to keep this totally private. Does that sound okay?"
Matthew thought for a moment, reminding himself he had to be patient—this was her first relationship and she was understandably cautious. Matthew lifted her chin and kissed her gently while saying "Absolutely."
The rain subsided just before dinnertime. The two hadn't ventured much beyond the bedroom, and Lana fully and completely reveled in their lazy day together. Matthew's mouth explored more of Lana, and she, in turn, fueled by her fascination and internal drive, gave him her very first blow job. She thoroughly enjoyed the act, but it was the praise she received which made her positively giddy inside.
In Lana's mind, there could never be a comparison for the day she just spent with Matthew. He eased her comfortably into a whirlwind of changes and new experiences. Nothing felt overwhelming. It all just felt exactly as it should be.
In the days leading up to the Friday before Labor Day, Lana and Matthew managed to deftly arrange their respective schedules to maximize their newly sacred alone time. Knowing that Lana would remain up north for two weeks from Labor Day, Matthew pulled out all the stops, with romantic gestures and all-out wooing her before she departed for Muskoka Friday morning.
First, the bouquet of 11 long-stemmed white roses and 11 chocolate-dipped strawberries that arrived the following day. Ainsley delivered the gifts to Lana's office just as she exited the conference room, bidding farewell to her new client. Lana stifled a smile when she saw Ainsley's puzzled expression. She knew her assistant was bursting at the seams to ask the million questions she surely had bouncing in her mind. Lana glided over to her desk, marveling at the perfectly formed rosebuds, blushing as she removed the sealed envelope attached to one of the stems, and another on the box of strawberries.
"LANA—oh my god, it's killing me… who sent you roses and strawberries? Please… I won't tell anyone… please—are you seeing someone?"
Ainsley did not know about Lana's personal history. Although Lana had a good relationship with her assistant, it was after careful observation once Ainsley was hired that Lana saw Ainsley might be a touch too comfortable in sharing the private matters of others.
Lana fibbed. "Just a thank-you from Aryne Tavares for helping Matthew. I'm just going to call her now—I'll stop by your desk afterwards so we can go over some things while I'm away."
Ainsley recognized Lana wasn't eager to dive into a personal chat and quietly closed her office door, stopping to gossip with another sales rep in the break room.
Lana double-checked the door was closed before she opened the first envelope. The card read:
"11 is my new favorite number."
Lana wasn't sure of the reference right away, but it soon dawned on her. Their difference in age.
She chuckled and shook her head, grinning widely as she opened the second envelope.
"Better than beet juice. You can share these at the office—there will be more later."
Lana pressed the card against her heart. There will be more later echoed in her mind.
And there was more.
After Lana sent Matthew a quick thank-you note, they swiftly made plans to meet as soon as she arrived home from the office.
Just as Lana returned home, Matthew arrived at her door with two more bouquets of 11 long-stem roses—one red bouquet and one yellow, as he wasn't sure which color she liked the most.
Matthew also brought a second box of strawberries, dipped in rich Belgian chocolate, which had a dual purpose.
The strawberries, which were later placed on Lana's bare torso, would serve as edible foreplay.
After the delectable appetizer, the sustenance it provided fueled the pair for a marathon in bed. The freedom of knowing they wanted to try for a future together proved to be a powerful aphrodisiac.
Night had fallen, and Lana lay across her bed, breathless. Her skin still rosy and flushed, covered in a light sheen of sweat as she watched Matthew return from the bathroom. He crawled onto the bed, placing kisses over her naked body as she lazily ran her hands through his hair and down his back.
Lana mused that she could get used to this.
___
The Saturday of the Labor Day weekend was picture perfect. Bright and sunny skies, with every shade of blue on display in every direction. Lake Rosseau was still for the moment, the surface of the water would rival the smoothest glass.
Lana and Andrew's shared lakefront home was already buzzing with activity. Their Labor Day shindig was one of the area's most popular get-togethers, as the brother-sister duo were known for their warmth, hospitality, and delicious offerings from local food and drink venues. Lana and Andrew had long ago decided to take turns organizing the annual event. After Lana threw one of their most revered parties the previous year, Andrew and Jason were determined to outdo her this time. This friendly sibling rivalry to host the better get-together likely made their end-of-summer event one of the most sought-after invitations around Port Carling.
Andrew spotted Lana stealing a few moments alone on the south-facing deck of a sitting area. He handed her an espresso, which she hadn't asked for but deeply appreciated.
"Just got a message from Aryne Tavares," Andrew said. "She already RSVP'd for her and John, but it sounds like they have a few guests staying at their cottage. She wondered if we could accommodate some extra mouths to feed. What do you think?" Andrew maintained a straight face until he saw Lana trying not to smile, as she quickly guessed who one of the "extra mouths" might be.
"Drew, this is all yours," she replied, feigning innocence. "If your numbers say yes, then there's your answer."
"Aryne mentioned one of their guest's names is Matthew Knies. Ring any bells?" Andrew teased.
"You're such a donkey sometimes, Drew. Total jackass." Lana scoffed and bumped against him.
"I actually cannot wait to meet him. See the guy that's lifted all of that shit off your shoulders that our mother laid on you. Did you know he was up for the weekend?"
"He messaged me that he was staying with John and a few teammates for the weekend. Said he hoped that he could stop by for a bit."
“Well, once we’re all cleaned up here after the party, Jason and I are going on a little road trip, so your two weeks alone will be starting tomorrow. Although, the alone thing…maybe not so much anymore, eh?”
Lana chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.
“Sound carries like crazy up here but the glass doors are sound proof - I recommend keeping them closed if you and Matthew are - you know…”
“Jesus Andrew - will you stop?” Lana laughed.
“I forgot to mention - well done too….Jason and I were watching some press conferences… he sure looks like he’s got stamina. Built like a brick shithouse, as they say….”
“Fuck - I’m outta here…you’re too much…”
Lana stood up but stopped to wrap her arms around her brother. “I love you, Drew.”
“Love you to sis. I’m happy for you. Jason and I both are.”
Matthew spotted Lana first. Her naturally wavy hair flitted in the breeze with the ends brushing the small of her back. She absolutely took his breath away. She looked happy, relaxed, and incredibly beautiful as the light wind off the lake swept her hair to the side.
The man Lana was speaking to was no less beautiful, and Matthew had to get his bearings and calm his mind before he approached her. It was difficult not to react to the knot in his stomach given how close Lana seemed to be with the unknown man, who appeared athletic, tanned, and pretty much perfect.
Aryne, John, Joe Woll and Fraser Minten (otherwise knowns as Mints), signaled to Matthew that they were heading to get a drink and waved for him to join them. When Matthew indicated he’d be there in a minute, barely taking his eyes off Lana, Joe - in a flash - pieced it together of why his good friend had been so distant since he first started his search for a new place to live.
Joe watched from afar as Lana sensed a presence behind her. She turned around to see Matthew's face, and her own lit up, with bashful adoring smile. Lana approached Matthew and introduced him to the man she had been standing with.
"Matthew Knies—this is Jason Morin, my brother's partner. Jason, this is Matthew."
Jason shook Matthew's hand. "Great to meet you. I'm a really big fan of yours - and the team. Hoping for an amazing season ahead for you guys."
Matthew’s eyes widened once he realized he had misinterpreted the situation. “Oh - Jason - wow, awesome to meet you too. Yeah, it’s going to be an exciting season I think.”
The three chatted for a few minutes before Aryne, John, and the rest of their group made their way over to greet them. Hugs and handshakes and introductions were made and the group fell into mostly a comfortable exchange.
Eventually Lana ushered Aryne back into the grand main cottage - Aryne had her eye on some fixtures and dressings throughout the main room and Lana was glad to give her the details of the designer.
John and Fraser wanted to go explore the massive boathouse and the multi-dock/deck system, leaving Matthew and Joe with their Corona beers. They did a quick cheers and silently surveyed the southern view from the main deck at the back of the cottage.
Joe broke the silence but didn’t turn his head from the view. “Amazing spot.”
“Sure is.”
Joe smirked knowingly. He could tell Matthew was aware that Joe's keen "spidey senses" had picked up on something.
“Lana seems nice. Oh - right - she’s the one that helped you find your new place?”
Matthew fought against wanting to smile. “Yep.”
Joe bided his time and took another sip from his bottle. “Yep. Seems really nice.”
Matthew tried to fight it off but he broke in to a laugh. “Fuck dude - just ask what you want to ask or say what you want to say man - might as well get it over with.”
Joe teased his buddy. “You better work on not cracking under pressure like that - jeez, I was barely egging you on…”
Matthew rolled his eyes and scoffed. “So? What do you wanna know?”
Joe shrugged. “Anything you’re willing to divulge….”
“Well….. Lana and I are seeing each other.” Matthew exhaled deeply without even realizing he’d been holding his breath.
Joe’s eyes smiled for his friend. “Good for you, man - that’s great…”
Matthew nodded and looked around at the groups of party goers that had congregated near the bar. “She wants to keep it private - she’s worried that my family and friends are going to think she’s too old for me.”
“Ahhh - yeah, I get it.” Joe knew Matthew’s family would just want him to be happy but he certainly saw Lana’s point. “How old is she?”
“32. So just over 10 years difference.”
“Shit, that’s not bad at all. You’re 22 next month so yeah, ten years isn’t bad.”
"But… Jesus, Joe. Fuck, I couldn't help it. I swear, she took me out at the knees — first time I saw her, I was standing in her office behind John worrying I was about to pop an awkward boner."
Joe laughed, nearly choking on his gulp of beer.
"I couldn't have cared less about viewing the condos — I probably could've gotten everything decided in the first couple of hours, but I acted all indecisive for weeks, just to see her again. Man — she's just such an amazing person. She really is."
Aryne's voice behind Joe startled him and Matthew. "Is John still down at the boathouse?"
Matthew peered around a few groups of people and pointed John out to Aryne.
"Lana — I'll be back in a sec…," Aryne called over her shoulder as Lana approached Matthew and Joe.
“How are you guys doing? Do you need anything at all?” Lana said as she assessed the remaining beer in each of their bottles. She pointed out so additional food stations that had just been set up and rhymed off the varieties of cuisines, if they were hungry of course.
Joe smiled widely and chatted with Lana briefly before excusing himself, leaving Matthew and her alone together.
Barely moving his lips and pretending to look around, Matthew spoke under his breath to Lana how gorgeous she looked. Blushing, Lana did the same.
She paused for a moment and then asked if Joe knew about them. Matthew glanced downward and then apologetically looked into her eyes. Matthew explained that Joe had guessed - and that Joe was also exceptionally smart and seem to notice….well, everything.
Lana’s soft voice soothed Matthew’s mild panic, telling him it was ok that Joe knew. Her brother and Jason knew so it really was only fair.
Matthew had a sudden need to be alone with Lana and he leaned in towards her. “Think I could get a private tour of the inside?”
Lana’s eyes were directed towards a local power couple as she smiled and waved at them, but her mind was solely on Matthew. “Mmmm…I can give you a tour a little later - I have something else in mind. There’s a main staircase inside - follow it upstairs and I'll meet you up there in about 5 minutes, okay?”
Matthew chuckled and jokingly looked over his shoulder, then back to Lana. “Yes ma’am.”
__
Long after Matthew left with the Tavares’ Saturday evening, and once Andrew and Jason had departed on their scheduled road trip the following day, Loren was alone. She traipsed around from room to room absorbing the tranquility of the house, and the bright a breathtaking scenery outside. She always loved this time of year, and there was an odd satisfaction with taking time off when it felt most were venturing back to the work week and school grind after their summer breaks.
Lana changed into her typical work out attire, and headed down to the lake where her one-person scull awaited her on shore. Lana loved her solo rowing trips, especially on a day where the lake was as quiet as it was.
She rowed the lightweight boat along the shoreline at an impressive speed, concentrating on her tempo, proper posture and breathing. She was far off in her own world inside her mind, and barely glanced at the million dollar lake houses with their enormous floating docks and monster ski boats and jet-skis tied to each one.
After an hour-long trip around the lake, she approached her own dock and spotted a tall figure standing by the swim ladder. She stopped rowing to shield her eyes from the sun to get a better look— unintentionally rocking the boat and squealing a little when she realized it was Matthew.
As fast as she could, she hopped into the water and dragged the boat onto the sandy part of the shore, and ran up towards the gangplank where Matthew was climbing down to meet her.
Lana wrapped her arms around Matthew. “I am so happy you’re here but - I thought you had planned to go back to the city yesterday?” She was still puffing - partly from rowing but mostly from Matthew surprising her.
“Sorry - I hated being sneaky but yeah, I really wanted to surprise you. Worried me a little when I showed up and I couldn’t find you. I came out here and kept seeing a flash of something - it was the sun reflecting off your oars. You’re such a badass out there….”
They strolled up the path and chatted animatedly about the hours that passed when they were apart. They entered the main cottage through the large glass doors just off the kitchen.
Matthew was still in awe of Lana’s lake front setup and as they talked, he would meander off, poking his head in and out of rooms with a “not too shabby” expression on his face.
Lana beamed, looking at Matthew as he approached her, backing her up against the countertop by the kitchen sink. He slowly pressed his mouth onto hers and asked if he could interrupt her "quiet time" and stay for a few days. He would need to make his way back into the city at some point that week, but it was Joe who encouraged him to take the chance, come back to Lana's, and spend time with her before training camp got fully underway.
Lana wrapped her arms tightly around Matthew’s neck, her kiss full of need and desire for him. She was elated that he came back, otherwise, the thought had crossed her mind to leave the cottage, surprise him at his condo door - like they do in so many rom-coms - probably drenched from rain, too.
Every moment that followed, a sense of peace washed over Matthew and Lana, which neither had even known they needed. They simply wanted to be together. Whether they were exploring the beautiful towns nearby, sunning themselves on the dock (Matthew couldn't believe what a rocket Lana was in her bikini), or enjoying dinner for two on the boat as they cruised the lake — anything that allowed them to be near one another.
If their shared sense of peace was a surprise to them, their appetite for each other was not. At the party, after they stole away into Lana's bathroom for a few minutes (in reality it was more like 30), Lana channeled her newly discovered sexuality. Behind the locked door, Lana stripped down to her strapless bra and lace panties, and promptly palmed Matthew's cock through his pants. It wasn't much longer before Lana had her hand over her mouth, stifling her cries of bliss while Matthew kneeled in front of her, her one leg draped over his shoulder as he dined on her.
A "Car Ride" soon took on a completely different meaning after their road trips would extend past sunset. Lana was surprised to find a number of secluded spots to climb onto Matthew's cock and experience heaven — sometimes more than once.
For Matthew, picnics in bed had become a fast favorite. The amount of teasing that they unlocked with various edibles was positively sinful. If things got too sticky or messy, well then a joint shower, and everything that entails, would need to be had.
It was Lana's appetite for Matthew that brought her back to the city early, well before her two-week break had concluded. After Matthew had left their bubble to go back to Toronto to buckle down with training, Lana tried to push past the longing that had settled in deep for Matthew. She knew how to be alone—she had always been comfortable with her own company. But she missed him, plain and simple. As Matthew drove home after a morning skate, he scrambled to press "read" on his dashboard after a text from Lana appeared.
"Good morning, Matty. Would you be around for dinner tonight, or sometime soon? Just arrived home. Was missing someone terribly."
Matthew called Lana immediately.
"You're back?! God—that's really—wow… really good news. I was missing someone pretty badly too." Matthew heard Lana giggle and he felt his heart could burst with happiness.
"So, I was wondering if I could take the someone I was missing terribly out on a date tonight? That is, if he's available?" Lana asked hopefully.
Matthew was positively moony. "Does he have to wait that long—or can you maybe fit him in before tonight? Like, maybe now, if not sooner?"
Lana's smile could be heard in her voice. "I can. I'll meet you at yours in the next half-second."
Matthew's cock twitched at Lana's suggestive tone, and he let out a little groan. "See you soon then."
The afternoon was mostly spent horizontal—limbs intertwined and lips connected to each other in every way possible.
They slowly peeled themselves off each other, enjoyed a long and lazy shower, and got ready for their date. Matthew peppered her with questions as to where they were going, and Lana simply answered, "To dinner… and then I guess we'll see after that."
The only other hint she gave Matthew was that she was taking him to her favorite restaurant.
From a window seat atop the ManuLife Centre, 51 floors up, Lana gazed out at one of the most stunning sunsets she'd ever seen—a breathtaking display of reds, oranges, and purples. It felt as if the universe itself was sharing a knowing wink with her. She had gotten her wish - and what a redemption this was from the last time she sat in this restaurant.
The only thing that surpassed the outside view was the man she sat across from. His magnetic charm, disarming looks, with a genuinely kind heart.
Matthew Knies had been well worth the wait.
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egrets-not-regrets · 15 days
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Sharing is (not) Caring
Of Fin and Feathers/ Living Waters AU: Lana is wounded in the aftermath of forming an intense bond with the Grey Knight during Claude's rescue. She's brought back to the gannet roost to recover. Zariel and Draco Kai (Grey Knight) learn to share, even though they don't like it at all.
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Author's Note: Promise this is a lighter, if a tad silly, fic written with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan. I wanted to know what happens after Claude's rescue with Lana's new polycule. To say the least, these boys learn to get along, just barely, for Lana's sake.
Also, the Grey Knight goes by Draco and Stormbreaker which are used interchangeably in the fic.
Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan
@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k
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In her unconsciousness, Lana heard muffled growling, arguing, then she felt carried in somebody’s arms. They were flying somewhere, she could feel the rushing air move through her feathers. Then she felt like she was home or close to it. she could hear the busier than usual clamor of voices in the distance. There was suddenly more arguing and then she heard the familiar voice of Zariel sending all his brothers away, leaving him and whoever was holding onto her. A hand gently wiped away the blood from her face with a damp cloth. 
Lana opened her bleary eyes, seeing the familiar surroundings of the nest she shared with her bonded Alpha Legion brothers, “Zariel?” She croaked. Her throat feels dry and thick. 
Her bonded came to her side immediately, stroking her cheek and nuzzling her.  
“Lana! My Lovely Lana…” Zariel breathed, pressing his forehead against hers. He saw that the internal injuries caused by her rejection of the bond between her and the Grey Knight had wounded her badly. When they went to give her a healing potion, Stormbreaker, ever mistrustful, guarded over Lana, preventing them from helping her. Only when Mara stepped in, had he allowed them to give Lana the potion. 
“Zariel!” She nuzzled back, “You’re alright.” She smiled, her eyes watery, but with relief in her voice. 
The Alpha Legion mer chuckled, “It’s you who was injured, my love.” Wiping away her tears that were threatening to fall. 
“You shouldn’t have rejected our bond.” A deep grumble sounded above her. Lana looked up to see the intense white eyes of the Grey Knight staring back at her. Immediately, she started to tremble and her breathing came out stuttered and panicked. Lana let out a shrill cry of fear and tried to push away to reach for her bonded Alpha Legionary. The large silver mer tightened his hold on her and commanded gruffly, “Stop moving and calm down! I’m your bonded, remember? I won’t harm you!”
The harpy froze, panting and wide-eyed. Zariel grabbed her claw in his hand, “Easy Lana.” He cooed, “Focus on me. Breathe with me, sweet one.”
Frightened pale eyes met his teal as Lana followed his instruction. Zariel placed Lana’s claw to his throat and purred, watching as his bonded slowly calmed down. 
“Better?” He asked. 
Lana relaxed in Stormbreaker’s hold and smiled at him, “Yes. Thank you.” 
Zariel placed a kiss into her palm, “Good. Do you remember Stormbreaker?”  
“I…” the harpy slowly sat up with one hand from each of her bonded supporting her back. Memories of the intense bond striking through the core of her soul, of her trying to reject their bond, the promises Stormbreaker made, the promise she made in return, floated into her mind. Lana looked at the large silver mer, his gaze a little more tentative, not wanting to scare her further after her panic attack. “I do…” she replied hesitantly. 
“We are bonded, you are safe. I vowed to protect you and your colony. You need not fear me.” He stated, his tone more gentle than before. 
Lana looked away, feeling conflicted and embarrassed by her panicked reaction, “Right… yes… I’m sorry.”
Stormbreaker kissed her forehead and purred, “Apology accepted, my Lana.”
That purr turned into a growl when he saw Zariel reach for her again. Lana grabbed his nearest hand, her brows furrowed with worry, “Please stop. I’m their bonded as much as I am yours.”
Stormbreaker huffed gently, “Fine.” He’ll tolerate the Hydra’s insistent presence for her sake. 
Zariel glumly stated, holding onto Lana’s claw, “Nerian said that since your injuries were caused by the rejection of your bond with Stormbreaker, he will need to stay with you so your bond can rebuild and help in your recovery. Healing potions could only supplement the recovery for injuries like that.”
Lana squeezed his hand, giving her bonded a faint smile, “I understand. Thank you for telling me.”
A shuffling of claws drew their attention as a younger gannet harpy entered their nest area. She held a bowl of soup. 
“Hello, Leto.” Lana weakly greeted. Zariel moved aside for the young harpy to sit by his bonded. 
Leto gave the bowl of soup to her older cousin, “Pa made this fish soup for you.”
“That better not be poison, whelp.” Draco stated, his voice full of suspicion. 
Insulted, Leto immediately hissed at him. He growled back at her, baring his teeth slightly. Lana opened her wing protectively, hiding Leto behind it and scolded her newest bonded merAstartes, “Stop it, Stormbreaker! She’s not here to poison me! Her father is one of the healers in the colony.”
”Why would I want to poison my cousin? That’s so stupid!” The younger harpy piped up, poking her head over Lana’s wing. 
Zariel snorted at the Grey Knight’s surprised and irritated expression. He got up. He needed to do a round to check on the other injured mer-Astartes who were staying with the colony until they were well enough to move or be moved. It shouldn’t take him long. The Alpha Legionary felt a tug on his tentacle and looked down to see Leto hanging onto it.
“Cousin Zariel, do you have to go?” She asked, her eyes kept nervously glancing in Stormbreaker’s direction. 
“Yes, Leto. I will be back shortly.” He reassured her, understanding her wariness around the Grey Knight. He was rather intimidating, and gave off the most icy attitude. Even Erriox, with his ever so stern demeanor, was more approachable than Stormjerk here. 
“But…”
Zariel sank down to pat her head, “You’ll be safe. Lana’s here. Stormbreaker won’t hurt you as he promised.” He looked at the Grey Knight. 
“Under the threat of bond breakage.” Lana stated.  
Leto gasped, worry colouring her face. Her pa had told her what happened earlier, “But wouldn’t that kill you too?”
“Yes.” Draco answered, his grip on Lana stiffened, trying hard to keep the sneer out of his voice, “It will kill both of us. Does that dissuade your worries, young one?” 
He felt disgust (It cannot be envy, he is beyond that feeling. Especially over an Alpha Legionnaire.) watching how easily that traitor interacted with the two harpies. How familiar they are with each other to the point that the two-faced traitor took the title of “Cousin Zariel”… And the audacity of that whelp to disrespect him… nothing a good beating or harsh training couldn’t solve. But Draco won’t speak these thoughts, lest Lana become even more displeased with him. It felt like needles stabbed his hearts seeing her react so fearfully to his presence when she woke up earlier. At least now that she’s calmed down, Lana made no move to get away from him. He needed to build her trust in him, not destroy it. 
“Oh… uh… yes.” Leto mumbled, deflated, as if the wind was taken out from under her wings at the seriousness of the Grey Knight’s promise. 
Zariel ruffled her crest feathers playfully, “You’ll be fine. Help me keep an eye on them.”
“Fine! Okay! Okay!” The young harpy giggled trying to ward off the ruffling by ducking under her wing. 
Using a tentacle, The Alpha Legion mer lifted Lana’s claw to his mouth, gently kissing her knuckles, “I’ll be back soon. Finish the soup that Leto gave you.”
“Will do.” She answered, smiling at him. Zariel smiled back then turned to leave. 
Leto turned her attention to her older cousin after watching the squid-like mer leave, “Cousin Zariel is right, this soup should give you a boost of nutrients that you need after taking that healing potion. You might feel sleepy after but you need rest after all that craziness.”
Lana slowly drank the bowl of soup then passed the empty bowl to Leto. Grateful for the medicinal supplement, she said to her, “Please give Soren my thanks.”
The younger harpy smiled, “Will do.” she then added, “Pa said that you should hold off on eating anything solid until you take two more doses of the mid-grade potions. Just so we can make sure you’re okay.”
Lana shuddered as a sudden wave exhaustion washed over her, “Wow, this didn’t take long.” she commented, relaxing against Draco’s chest. The warmth emanating from his body made it a struggle to keep her eyes open. 
The Grey Knight quietly dismissed Leto, “Go, we will notify your father once Lana is awake.”
Leto nodded and got up to leave. 
Lana’s eyes kept fluttering as she struggled to stay conscious as she felt Draco lay down, holding her, “Don’t we…?” She yawned. 
Draco purred, “It’s alright. Sleep Lana. I will watch over you.” Feeling pleased when Lana hummed and pressed herself against him as she drifted off to sleep.  
**************
“Where am I? Why am I so tired?” Lana asked groggily when she woke up again. 
A deep voice rumbled, “We’ve returned to our nest. You are still healing from internal wounds.” 
That voice resonated with her soul, but in her exhausted, still sleep-addled state, Lana didn’t recognize it; it certainly wasn’t one of the Alpha Legion brothers. She turned her head towards the voice and was met with the giant silver form of the Grey Knight curled up next to her. Lana’s eyes widened in shock and fear, and tried to scramble away from the silver mer. 
Draco held onto the frightened harpy, frowning at her reaction. It’s as if she forgot that he was her bonded. Again. Learning from the first time when Lana panicked, Draco purred instead, mentally sending calm waves through their bond trying to comfort her, “My Lana. You are my bonded, remember?” He pressed his forehead gently against hers, “You fell unconscious and I carried you back to our nest. Relax, you are safe.”
Lana instinctively pressed back against him, slowly relaxing as she could feel a calm thrumming through the core of her being. She wasn’t sure where it came from, either their bond or the Grey Knight himself. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, whatever that was, it was comforting. Draco’s purrs grew deeper, pleased that his Lana was reciprocating his affection. He tightened his embrace. 
Slowly, the memories of what happened resurfaced in her mind. Lana blinked, gazing up at the hooded white eyes of the Grey Knight. She whispered weakly, “It’s you.” A troubled expression crawling onto her face. 
“Yes. Your Stormbreaker.” He answered, nuzzling her, his lips grazing over hers. 
“Lana?” Zariel called out as he returned, “Are you awake?”
She immediately turned towards the sound of his voice and called back, “Zariel!” 
The Alpha Legion mer was quick to reach her side. Taking advantage of the Grey Knight’s surprise at Lana’s reaction, Zariel pulled her into his arms from the Stormbreaker’s hold, wrapping his tentacles around her. Lana clambered onto him, draping her wings over shoulders, her claws grasping onto him tightly. 
“Zariel… oh Zariel!” Her voice unwinding from worry to relief as she buried her face into his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. 
Zariel kissed her temple, ignoring Draco’s glare, “Don’t you sacrifice yourself like that ever again. We… I can’t bear to lose you.” he whispered desperately. 
“I will try not to do that, unless it’s necessary.” Lana let out a muffled warble; she didn’t have the heart to tell him that for the good of the colony or flock, any and all harpies would gladly sacrifice themselves.
“Then my brothers and I will make it so you will never have to do that.” He replied, staunch and unwavering in his vow. Zariel pulled Lana up to meet him and kissed her fiercely, passionately, as if he would never be able to kiss her again. 
Lana relaxed into his embrace, and closed her eyes, “Zariel…” a soft moan escaping her. 
Draco's claws twitched at the display of affection. Lana’s moan was the last straw. She had a lovely voice but she should be moaning his name, not that damned Alpha Legionary’s. Throne only knows what witchery these traitors cast on her and her colony for them to end up in this situation. 
“Cease your flagrant display, Hydra.” He growled, deep and possessive, wrapping an arm around his harpy from behind. 
Zariel’s glances up at the giant fucking bastard of a Space Mer-ine. The boys had stutteringly told him and the rest of the Alpha legion squad, as well as Erriox about Gray Knights. What they knew about their chapter and mannerisms and habits. At least, what little the boys knew of as truth, and none of it was good.
Entitled, powerful, and known to exterminatus an entire planet. Demon hunters. Demon slayers. And from what the boys have said, allied with the damned Inquisitors, the Ordo Malleus, the chambers militant. 
All that was able to be done solo- which was a singularly terrifying amount of power. If fear was something that Astartes could feel, at least. Zarius and his squad brothers had to leave, despite really not wanting to do so, not with their Lana so injured, to speak of Gray Knights in person with their Handler- and to the local Alpha legion chapter master.
From what he heard- they were going to be considered a Custodes level threat. “Lana and I are bonded with each other. I am hers, and she is mine.” Zariel growled. 
While he needs to thread the needle from not pissing off a Psyker powerful enough to be able to actually kill demons, he also needs to show that he’s not going to bend over backwards for this shit head.
Also- he bristles at the fact that Stormbreaker is so possessive of Lana- who is her own person, and should be able to make her own choices in regards to the Bonds that linked her and those Space Marines blessed to have them.
Draco growls darkly, deep and low in his chest at the uppity little hydra’s words, “She is mine, we are Bonded together- it's a far superior and more powerful bond than the fragile spider-silk bonds that she has with you. Begone, Hydra.”
Zariel stubbornly holds onto Lana, unwilling to yield her over to the Grey Knight. He sneers, “No. Our bond is just as important to her if not more so. Why do you think Lana kept and protected our bonds with so much effort? You agreed to Lana’s terms in order to stay bonded with her and she had asked that she be able to freely spend time with us. So honor the agreement, Brother-Captain of the Stormbreakers.”
Both Astartes tighten their grip on their bonded harpy. 
Draco looms over the smaller mer, “Don’t presume your witchery and tricks hold that much power over her.”
“Please stop.” Lana let out a strangled whimper, “Both of you. Your grip. It hurts!” 
She felt like she could breathe again as their holds went slack immediately, though not letting go. 
“I’m sorry, my Lana/ Lana love.” Both her bonded Astartes said simultaneously. Then glared at each other. 
Draco growls and narrows his eyes at the damned Hydra, “Begone- you are unneeded.”
“The Hell I am,” Zariel snarls back, teal eyes darkening with wrath, “I’m an Apothecary- and I won’t let you stop me from tending to my patient and our Bonded. Let her go.”
“You two, please stop arguing.” Lana keens softly between them. All this tension and arguing is just adding to her growing headache. She prayed silently to the Skymother that these arguments won’t be something she will have to deal with forever and that all of them will get along soon enough. To be honest, all she wanted was some peace and quiet to sleep right now. 
Lana tilts Zariel’s face downward towards her, his angry glare softens as he watches her. She kisses his lips tenderly, “Patience, Zariel. Can you do that for me?”
“I can, for you, my lovely Lana.” He hums as he kisses her back. 
She gives him a fond smile with a murmured “thank you”, before turning to reach out to Draco. He immediately leans into her touch. Lana pulls him close to nuzzle him, “I know you need to stay close since our bond will help me heal from these injuries faster and I know you hate to share. But please, please let Zariel stay, he is an apothecary and I trust him. He is also my bonded as much as you are and I want him here too. His presence is comforting.”
Draco’s white eyes stare at her in disbelief. Trust him? His presence is Comforting? He watches the Hydra looking at his bonded with a lovesick expression. Touching his mind, the Grey Knight is surprised by Zariel’s sincerity. However, the Hydra’s specialty is in espionage and influencing major events using underhanded means. Draco wouldn’t put it past the Hydra brothers just playing the long game using whatever and whoever to achieve their nefarious goals. 
It stings a little when Lana asks for Zariel to stay though. Isn’t his presence comforting enough? Draco suspects it’s because of her familiarity with the Alpha traitors. At least his bond is the one that Lana needs to recover, though she shouldn’t have rejected their bond in the first place or else she wouldn’t have been wounded like this. However, he isn’t going to deny that this allows him to hold his harpy bonded close and protect her against those traitorous bastards. It’s a selfish thought, but he likes having Lana all to himself.
Zariel let out a big sigh, “I don’t like this as much as he does, but I am willing… to share.” 
Draco’s grip on Lana stiffens watching her glance and smile thankfully at the other mer. The Grey Knight huffs, “Fine… He can stay. I… will share according to your request.”
Gentle soothing waves from his bond quiets the possessiveness and worry in his mind as her soft gaze turns to him, “Thank you.” Lana says, smiling. She kisses him, “I know it is difficult for you to share, so thank you, D- Mmnh…” 
Draco pushes into the kiss, muffling his name that was about to fall from her lips, “I only ask for you to not be afraid of me.” he rumbled lowly, their lips barely parting, “I’m your bonded, I’m not your enemy, so treat me as such.”
“I…” Lana paused. She looked away, guilt eating away at her conscience. Draco was bonded intensely to her (not that she had a choice), she… should technically treat him as her bonded, like Zariel and his brothers. But… he hurt so many of them: young Claude, young Jophiel, the other merAstartes who came to rescue them, some of them wounded so badly that she thought they wouldn’t survive. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened… even what she’s doing now, she feels guilty for giving in and responding to her bond with the Grey Knight. 
He can see unease cloud his harpy’s expression and feel doubt pulse across their bond. Draco cups her face, his thumb stroking down the feathers on her cheek. He kisses her again, “I will protect you and the colony. Trust me, my Lana.” 
“She barely knows you and your introduction wasn’t exactly a pleasant meeting. Give her time.” Zariel interjects, sneering. He couldn't help but feel slightly envious of the affection Lana is giving the Grey Knight. He understands that the Grey Knight is also her bonded and thus has the privilege of receiving her affection as much as they do. He feels secure in his relationship with Lana, but Stormbreaker demanding to be treated like one of them, despite all he did and all the hurt he had caused, leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 
His instincts were also screaming at him to deal with the Threat. The primaris boys have told them bits and pieces about what he and his Chapter are like. He has sent the information on to the network and really would prefer it if he could drive Stormbreaker off, but he can't. Not with the Bond in place, not without losing Lana. The bastard. Zariel knows that for her to recover Stormbreaker needs to be with her, but he's not going to let the giant silver witch take Lana all for himself. 
Draco was about to say something insulting back at the Hydra when Lana interrupts him, “I… will try, Stormbreaker. But Zariel is right. I need time to be able to trust you fully. And… to get to know you. It took a long time to trust Zariel and his brothers too. You’re not the only one.”
“I… understand.��� The Grey Knight mer conceded, displeased, but knowing if he didn’t, it would make Lana distrust him further. He keeps the scathing words he has on the tip of his tongue held behind his teeth- he’ll use them once he’s more settled into the Bond with his Lana… and the Harpy Colony views him as they should: a mighty protector and someone to give respectful deference to.
Lana tiredly breathes a sigh of relief and lays down to rest, closing her eyes, “If you two could just get along and just give me some peace and quiet so I can sleep, I would be ever grateful…” her voice drowsily drifts off. 
“Of course, my lovely Lana.” Zariel murmurs, kissing her nape, shuffling closer before laying down so Lana’s back rests against his chest. He draped a tentacle over her hip and wrapped an arm under her breasts. Smiling, he felt her relax into him. 
Draco glared at the Hydra’s brazen placement of his limbs on his Lana. He shifted closer as well, gently sandwiching their harpy between themselves, and wrapped his arm over her waist. Lana, churring in her sleep, nuzzled into his chest and curled her outer leg over the thin end of his tail, trapping it between her legs. Pleased with her unconscious gesture of affection, Draco kissed Lana’s forehead, rumbling, “Sleep, my Lana.”
The two mers then glared at each other. Each whisper-hissing at the other. 
“Pervert.”
“Hypocrite.”
Lana squirmed suddenly and tried to sit up, “You say something?” She mumbled drowsily. 
Both of them gently pushed her back down. 
“It’s nothing, my Lana.” Draco purred, gently scratching her back. 
“Go to sleep, love.” Zariel hummed, adding his purr onto Stormbreaker’s soft rumbling purr, quickly lulling their bonded harpy back to sleep. 
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 10 months
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Falling Part Three | Jeon Jungkook
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Summary: Lana and Jae get closer and you ask Jimin for advice on how to deal with her while also trying to rationalize why Jungkook would be on earth Pairing: Angel f!reader x Fallen Angel Jungkook Word Count: 2.9k~ Warnings: Talks about doubting God and questioning why he let's bad things happen to people on earth as well as leaving heaven to join the devil. This is not meant to be harmful to any religion and I don't want to cause any doubt in God or your faith so if you feel that would affect you then please do not read. Nothing super in depth but still wanted to preface it with this. a/n: I finished this and immediately posted it after some rough editing but I wanted to get it out asap lol hope you guys like it!
Once Lana is done for the day I keep my head on a swivel trying to see if I can catch a glimpse of Jungkook anywhere. Is he a student? He has to be a student right? The only way he would materialize would be if the person he was assigned to has already turned 18. He couldn't possibly be a teacher because I would've noticed by now. Meaning he's highly likely to be in his Senior year just like Lana. There are so many kids here though, how am I going to figure out which students have turned 18 recently?
"Lana!" I hear her name being called from across the hall by that same boy from before. "Oh Jae! Are you all done for the day too?" she asks clearly wanting to see if they would be getting off at the same time for future reference. "Yeah I just finished, did you drive here?" he asks curious as well to see if she would need a ride home most days. "No, my mom dropped me off. I usually just hang around school for a bit and do some homework until she gets off work and comes to get me" she explains. 
"Oh okay, well if you want I could give you a ride?" he offers, clearly insinuating something else but it seems to be in a playful manner more than anything. "That's okay, she's already planning on picking me up today. Rain check?" she asks hopeful he won't feel bad about her shooting him down. 
"Sure. Would it be okay if I kept you company until she does?" he questions, she smiles and nods which seems to uplift his spirits again which is good in her mind. "Cool" he says and follows her lead to one of the table outside in the courtyard near the area her mom picks her up at. 
"So, how are you liking things so far?" she questions, hoping to find something that they can talk about for a while. "It was a pretty seamless transition thankfully. All of my credits transferred so I didn't have to worry about trying to make up for the ones that didn't" he answers. "That's great! Scrambling to make those up before graduation would've been really difficult" she cringes just thinking about the potential of being held back. 
"Plus the students here are really nice, and one girl in particular has caught my eye" he teases, messing with the strap on her bag, almost shy to admit. "Oh yeah? And who might that be?" she questions, catching me off guard. 'Where the heck did she learn how to flirt? And why is she already good at it?' I think to myself. 
"Oh, just this really smart, cute and funny girl that I met. I bumped into her on accident today though so I'm not really sure if she likes me or not" he continues. "Are you sure it was on accident?" she teases. 'What the heck Lana! Why aren't you the shy awkward girl I know you to be anymore?' I think to myself now slightly panicking. 'She must really like this boy so far if she's had a sudden change of character just to entertain his advances. This isn't good'.
After getting home her mom finally takes note of how differently she's acting. She calls out for her and Lana simply hums to show she's listening. "Did something happen at school today?" she asks, also a little worried about her. 'Thank God I'm not the only one' I chime in in my head. If this guy wasn't dressed like the definition of trouble I might not be this concerned but I can't help the slight panic I'm starting to feel.
"No, not really" she say and makes her way up to her room, with me following close behind. "Hey come back down when dinner is ready! No skipping meals today" he mom yells after her. "Yes mom" she responds and closes her door right after the words leave her mouth. 
Jae: Did you get home safe?
Lana: Yeah just walked in. Did you?
Jae: Yeah I did. What are your plans for the rest of the day?
Lana: Nothing really. I've got some homework to do but other than that I'm pretty much free. Why?
Jae: I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a drive
She pauses for a second and thinks about it. She's nervous but excited, that's for sure but I really really hope she'll say no. She knows that she isn't supposed to be hanging out with anyone, let alone a boy she just met after curfew. 'Please Lana, please but smart about this' I pray, not wanting to add another sin to her tally of not obeying the rules set out for her. 
Lana: Oh I don't know, I'm not supposed to be out late on a school night
'Yes Lana! Good girl!' I rejoice. Hopefully he won't push her too much, but I don't blame him for trying, Lana is a very pretty girl. 
Jae: It's probably because we don't know each other well too huh?
Lana: Yeah that too
Jae: It's okay I get it
Lana: But if you're free we could talk on the phone? That way we can get to know each other a bit better :)
Jae: Sure
*Jae would like to FaceTime*
"I said call, not FaceTime" she panics out loud while looking at herself in the mirror before pressing accept. 
"I said we could talk on the phone" she says frustrated at being caught off guard. "Are we not talking on the phone?" his voice resounds on loud since Lana hasn't put her Airpods in yet. "Well...yes" "Then what's the problem Pretty?" he says with a half smile, watching as her eyes widen at the pet name. 
"Why did you call me that?" she asks, biting her lip to keep a smile from cracking while occupying herself with finding her Airpods so her mom doesn't hear him. "Because you're pretty" he says with (not gonna lie) a gorgeous smile. Lana better be careful because I feel like this one is ready to break her heart. Once she finally finds them she puts them in and continues their conversation which I thankfully am still able to hear.
"Is it okay if I call you Pretty?" he surprisingly asks for permission. "As long and I'm the only one you're calling that then yeah I guess so" she says and I can feel her heart racing in anticipation to see what his response might be. "Who else would I call Pretty, Pretty? If I've got you I don't need anyone else" he says, his words sweet as honey warm up her skin. 
"You think you've got me?" she says raising a brow at him. 'Okay Lana, you've still got some fight in you' I'm glad to see she's not playing into his games too quickly. If I were her I would have this guy be putty in my hands before I let him call me anything. 'I- nope I'm not her. Yep, we're just gonna. Uh huh let's give her some privacy' I think to myself and quickly call Jimin to ask for advice. 
"Hey! Long time no see" he says when his hologram pops up. "Yeah sorry I've been really busy with Lana. A new boy just stepped in the scene and I'm not really sure what I should do to help protect her" I say and watch as he takes in the information and thinks on it for a second. "Lana has been a really good girl right? She's been respectful and honest and follows the rules, does well in school, all of that stuff right?" he asks listing off the things I've told him about before. 
"Yes, all of those are still true but I'm nervous. This Jae guy is a capital T for Trouble and I know I'm not supposed to judge but I have to discern on what exactly I'm supposed to do here. Plus her birthday is next month so hopefully I'll be materializing that day if things go according to God's plan" I say, reminding both him and myself of the sort of situation we're dealing with.
"You also have to remember she's still a teenager. Teenagers are supposed to grow up and mess up and get their hearts broken if life takes them down that path. It's perfectly normal for her to like a guy and for him to like her back. It's something new since she really hasn't shown any true interest in boys so I understand how you're feeling but just pray and watch over her. That's all you can really do until her birthday and hopefully by then you'll be able to actually help guide her if she's open to it" he says. 
Now that I think about it, I have been super on edge with her recently, even before Jae came around. Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Just watch, wait, and gather information about how their relationship grows and changes in these next few weeks so you're able to figure out a game plan before you materialize alright?" he finishes and I take it all into account. 
"Another weird thing happened today, my bracelet lit up when Lana and I were at school" I relay and I can see his face go from confused, to excited, to scared as well as a whole other range of emotions that I can't quite identify. "How could he even be there? Do you think he's materialized as someone's fallen angel? Are there even kids that are that bad at her school? I thought you said she was at a good one?" he asks, just as confused as I am.
"Doesn't mean there aren't a couple of bad eggs lost in the mix" I say, sitting down on Lana's bed to hopefully relax for a bit. "The only way that my bracelet would light up would be if he was in the same realm, correct?" I ask him to which he nods. "And when you fall you become a fallen angel, right?" to which he nods again. "So after all of these years there is still a possibility that he could've been assigned to be someone's fallen angel. Their bad influence so to say, right?" I finish. "Well yeah, but the odds of that are slim. Usually the angels who have fallen are left as slaves and can't come out of hell even if they tried" he explains. 
"Yeah but Jungkook's different, you and I both know that. He could've been taken under someones wing, for lack of a better term. They could've seen potential and drive in him. Plus his brother is there, he fell during the war between angels so he's been there since the very beginning. He could've found out that Jungkook had fallen and got him whatever job he wanted" I finish, showing Jimin the possibilities that could've caused our paths to cross again.  
Maybe all these years he's been leading people straight into the arms of Lucifer. I can't even imagine the horrors he's gone through or worse, taken part in or caused on his own. "Did you see him?" he asks the question that I knew he has been itching to ask. I shake my head and let it fall "I tried looking around but Lana had to get to class so I was stuck with her in there for an hour. When we left I kept on looking as best as I could to find him but he wasn't there". "Maybe try again tomorrow? You'll find him don't worry" Jimin reassures me and we end our call soon after that.
I check up on Lana's call and it seems like they haven't gotten up to too much mischief, just some harmless flirting here and there. "Lana! Dinner!" we both hear her mom yell. "Hey I have to go but I'll see you at school tomorrow okay?" she says, rushing to finish up so her mom doesn't get too suspicious. "Alright, goodnight Pretty" he says in a teasing tone that gives her butterflies in her stomach. "Goodnight Jae" she responds and quickly hangs up the phone before rushing downstairs. 
The next day at school Jae finds Lana in the same hallway they had met in and comes right up to her and swoops up her books again. "Hey!" she protests, trying to get them back just like yesterday. "Hello to you too Pretty" he says chuckling at her. "You really don't have to do that" she says crossing her arms awkwardly while they repeat the same steps they had done yesterday. "I know, but I want to. How did you sleep?" he questions glancing over at her while they continue on their journey. 
"I slept alright, what about you?" she asks looking at him and just now noticing the dark circles under his eyes. "I slept like a baby" he responds, clearly lying. "Are you sure? Because those bags under your eyes are telling a different story" she teases, trying not to prod but being open to the discussion. "Well for the amount of time that I did sleep, I slept like a baby" he chuckles and they continue on down the hallway.
Once they reach the classroom they do the same as before, hanging out right outside to talk when she notices a cut and a slight bruise on his cheekbone that she hadn't seen before since she had been walking on the opposite side of him. "Jae what happened?" she asks clearly concerned and on instinct grabbing his opposite cheek to keep him in place so she can inspect it. 
"It's nothing don't worry about it" he says taking her hand off his face gently and toying with her fingers. "It's clearly not nothing. Does it hurt?" she asks with her brows knitted together while she brings her other hand up and traces the area with a feather light touch. He flinches and hisses as if she's hurt him and she gets even more concerned before she realizes he's joking. "Don't do that! I'm worried about you" she says pushing on one of his shoulders a bit to which he hisses out in true pain. 
"Jae oh my gosh I'm so sorry. I-" she starts but stops when he places one of his hands on her cheek. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine" he says and makes purposeful eye contact with her, to which she decides to just look towards the floor after a second and nods, not asking any further. "Hey" he says and brings her chin back up to look at him again "Just trust me okay?" he asks and she just nods again in response. 
"I need words Pretty" he says using that pet name with her again, making her eyes widen a bit. "Okay" she agrees, "Okay what?" he says tilting his head at her in amusement, teasing to get a smile out of her. "Okay I trust you" she says, giving him that smile he was searching for. "There she is" he says, referring to her normal playful self. 
"Let's head inside okay?" he suggests and she grabs her books from him before he make moves to even push off of the wall he had been leaning against. He tries to reach out for them but she gives him a stern look telling him not to push his luck with her. "Alright alright fine" he says holding his hands up and decides to walk behind her when they walk into the classroom and follows her over to her desk. 
"Can I walk you to your next class?" he asks when she sits down and she nods in agreement but she shies away when he raises a brow at her. "Yes Jae I would love it if you walked me to class" she says and at that he gives her a half smile and runs a thumb over her cheek before he heads off to his seat. 
"My brain is total mush right now" Jae says as they finish up the lesson. "Oh come on it wasn't that bad" Lana laughs and shakes her head as they make their way over to her next class. "Hey Jae!" we all hear a voice say from behind. Even before his voice met my ears my bracelet lit up "Oh hey, give me a minute I'm just gonna walk Lana to her class" Jae says as they continue on down the hallway. "Okay, we'll be outside" he says and even though my head is telling me not to my heart has a mind of it's own making me turn to face him. 
The first thing my eyes land on is his bracelet that he seems to be fiddling with, him looking as confused as I was yesterday. No longer gold but it still sits on his wrist, beaten and tarnished so much so that it has turned into a dark matte black. Another reminder of how far he's fallen, as if his appearance and demeanor wasn't enough. 
He's dressed just like Jae, with piercings and those same burnt and twisted branches as well, his woven through other various tattoos on one of his arms of all shapes and sizes, a particular one catching my eye. He takes a look around to see if he could possibly catch sight of me but fallen angels can't see other angels until they too materialize. I can't help the few tears that fall from the shock of the state he's in especially when he heads back outside to a group of other guys dressed just like them. 
What are Jae and Jungkook involved in? And why for God's sake did he have to choose Lana?
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elisysd · 1 year
Text
Happiness is a butterfly - Lana Del Rey
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Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter
Happiness is a butterfly Try to catch it like every night It escapes from my hand into moonlight
“What does one wear for a first Grand Prix attendance?” asked around Lyanna, half panicking.
Charles, who was reading the notes he had taken the day prior, looked at her. She had several outfits laid on the bed and was rummaging through her make up bag.
“I think that no matter what you’ll wear, you will be beautiful.”
He narrowly dodged a lip gloss that Lyanna threw in his direction.
“Can’t you stop being a cliché boyfriend for five minutes and help me? I’m stressing out Charles!”
He couldn't prevent a goofy smile from forming on his face.
“You called me your boyfriend.”
“Charles, please, you are definitely not helping.”
“It’s the first time you call me like that.” he said, coming up behind her to hold her waist.
“Yeah, first and last one if you don’t help me.” She whined, trying to get away from him.
“All right, all right, there's no need to get worked up.” he said, raising both hands in defence. “Be comfortable, that's the most important thing, that's just the qualifying session. It's watched, but it's not the real race. Tomorrow we'll be under more scrutiny.”
“Thank you, that’s what I wanted to know. See, you can cooperate when you want.”
“Do I get a reward?” he asked, smiling.
“Don’t push your luck, Leclerc. Get the pole and we can talk about it again.”
“You sure know how to keep me motivated.”
She winked at him before taking an outfit in her arms and locking herself in the bathroom.
But Charles and Lyanna definitely did not go unnoticed. American fans could be very loud and expressive. It wasn't long before the couple found themselves in the middle of the crowd, the fans first wanting autographs from Charles before they realised that Lyanna was there too and started asking her for pictures. Fortunately, security quickly dispersed the crowd and took them to safety inside the paddock and the Ferrari hospitality area. Charles kept his hand on Lyanna's the whole time, applying gentle pressure to let her know he was there without having to speak.
At the Ferrari garage, the atmosphere was just as busy. Engineers and mechanics were busy preparing Carlos and Charles' cars for the qualifying session. Soon Charles was pulled in by Fred Vasseur to discuss strategy, leaving Lyanna alone, unsure of where to go or what to do. Thankfully, she wasn't alone for long. Joris entered the garage, out of breath and as red as Charles' racing suit. He caught Lyanna's eye as she waved to him. He walked over to her and asked where Charles was.
“He was supposed to wait for me before coming here. I waited for like an hour and he doesn’t answer his phone. I had to order an uber to come, I was scared I would miss the beginning of quali. I should blame you and you should be the one to pay for the taxi!” he playfully told her.
“Sorry, we’ve been a bit distracted this morning… we left the hotel late.”
“Do I wanna know why? Don’t answer, I don’t really want to know. Well, actually that’s not entirely true. My love life is as inexistant as Santa Claus so I kinda live vicariously through Charles’, but not to the point that I want to hear details about your sexual life.”
“Well, good because I was not about to tell you anything about that.”
“Not saying that you would. Charles, on the other hand…”
She must have been making a funny face because he quickly added:
“Not saying that’s what he does! It’s just that sometimes when he talks about you guys, he has the tendency to say too much information and…”
“I don’t know how you manage to do it but, the more you talk, the worse you are making your situation.” She cut him with a half-smile on her face.
“I’m just going to shut up then.” He said while nodding.
Charles soon returned, wearing a jumpsuit and deep in discussion with Andrea. He looked concentrated and Lyanna didn't want to disturb him. So she preferred to stay with Joris, who in the meantime had gone to get two of the crew's headsets. There was only half an hour to go before the start of the race and Lyanna felt nervous. For the first time, seeing all the people involved around Charles and the car, watching him prepare meticulously, she understood just how dangerous the sport could be. She bit her nails, a bad habit she had when anxiety began to build. Her eyes were fixed on her boyfriend. He could feel it as he turned his eyes towards her and gave her a discreet nod, telling her to come closer, which she did with hesitant steps. He smiled gently to reassure her.
“Everything will be alright.”
“I know, it’s just that I don’t know what I should expect. It’s an unusual environment for me.”
“You’ll get used to it, don’t worry. I’m supposed to get in the car in five minutes, I jut wanted to make sure you were okay. Stay with Joris, he knows how things work here.”
She nodded and he pressed his forehead against her while brushing her fingers with his. she looked up at him and smiled.
“Okay. Well… be fast. And come back to me in one piece. I love you.”
He pressed a kiss on her forehead then on her lips, whispering an “I love you too”, before putting on his helmet and heading towards his car.
Charles managed to take pole ahead of Max by just a few hundredths, despite a difficult start to qualifying which almost saw him drop out of Q1. So it was a happy Charles who walked through the garage doors after a quick chat with the journalists. His first reaction was to find Fred and give him a warm hug, before heading towards Lyanna and Joris, who were in a corner of the room, away from any possible cameras that might be around.
He shook hands with Joris, who patted him on the shoulder before turning to Lyanna and giving her a hug. He could see a certain pride in her eyes, even though he knew she must have been anxious when she saw him in the car.  As for Lyanna, she could see both joy and tiredness on Charles's face. She ran her hand over his face, tracing the marks left by his balaclava. Somehow, she found him even more handsome this way. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sensation of her fingers on his skin wash over him, and sighed with contentment. He leaned into her touch before placing a kiss on the palm of her hand.
“Congrats champ.” She whispered to him.
“Wait, I still have to keep Max behind me tomorrow.”
“I don’t care, you are still my champ whether you win or you lose.”
He kissed her forehead while pulling her closer to him.
“I race to win, Lya, not to be second place.”
He felt her shrugged against him.
He let go of her for a moment, just long enough to go and take a shower, and Joris excused himself for a moment, needing to take a call. Lyanna found herself alone in the middle of the mechanics. Not one to stand around and do nothing, she decided to leave the garage. Outside, everyone was so busy with the cars and other drivers that no one paid any attention to her. She wandered the aisles at her leisure, soaking up the atmosphere, but not before sending a short message to Charles informing him that she'd gone out for a breath of fresh air and would meet him at the entrance to the paddock. She soon found herself in front of the Mercedes hospitality from which Carmen was emerging. The young woman saw her and waved to her.
“Lyanna! Fancy seeing you here! You should have texted me; we could have watched the qualifications together.”
“I did not know you would be here. By the way congrats on George P4.”
“You can thank him yourself; he is right here.” Carmen informed her, looking behind her as a tall British man was crossing the doors, followed by Lewis who was accompanied by a bulldog that Lyanna assumed was Roscoe.
“Lyanna, hey! Are you alone?” asked Lewis when he spotted her.
“Yep, I wanted to explore a little.” she replied, stooping down to pet the dog that was now demanding her attention.
They all chatted for a little while before proceeding to leave the paddock. In a corner, she was surprised to already see Charles who seemed deeply absorbed by something on his phone. He has his sunglasses on making, his expression a little unreadable. Hearing the laughs of the group, he looked up and spotted his girlfriend. With quick steps, he approached the group.
“Lyanna, thank God. Is it too much to ask for you to answer your phone? I was worried. It’s been an hour.”
Surprised by her boyfriend's outburst, she took out her phone and found that it had indeed been an hour since she'd left. With all the talking and laughing, she'd lost track of time. She noticed the dozens of missed calls from Charles and the numerous SMS messages and immediately felt bad. She quickly excused herself before wrapping her arm around Charles and intertwining her fingers with his.
“It’s okay, just… check your phone from time to time. I was about to organize a search party for you.”
Then his attention turned to the Mercedes drivers.
“How are you guys knowing each other?”
“Well I’ve met Carmen at your birthday party and Lewis is an old acquaintance. Remember, I told you that.”
“Oh yeah, it slipped of my mind.”
“Lyanna and I met in London, last year, I think? It was at a conference centered around environment and ecology. I’ve never thought that I would see her on a race one day.”
“Really, why?” asked Charles out of curiosity.
“Because if I remember well, when I told her I was a F1 driver she said very clearly that our sport was a disaster for the planet and that she could not understand how it was still happening.”
All eyes were on the young woman, who suddenly found the ground fascinating. Charles nudged her playfully with his elbow to tease her, whereupon she lightly pinched his arm, causing him to squeal a little in pain.
“Keep teasing and you’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”
“Beware Charles, you are going to end up in the doghouse tonight!” joked George.
“Speaking of dog, Lewis if you ever in need of a dogsitter tomorrow I would be happy to take Roscoe with me.”
“I appreciate Lyanna, thank you.”
The group laughed together for a few more moments, before everyone went off in opposite directions. Fortunately for Lyanna and Charles, it was getting late and there were far fewer people around, allowing them to breathe a little easier and head back to the hotel in peace.
But their peace was short-lived. Shortly after entering the bedroom door, and just as Lyanna had left to shower, a notification from the Scuderia's official Instagram page appeared on Charles' screen. Curious, he opened it and felt a knot form in his stomach when he saw the photo posted. It was a black-and-white close-up of the brief moment they'd exchanged with Lyanna a few minutes before he started qualifying. His hand was resting on the cheek of the young woman who was looking at him with eyes filled with admiration. Their foreheads were pressed together and, had circumstances been different, he would have found the photo absolutely sublime. It was, but it was also a private moment. As if that weren't enough, the caption on the photo was not so subtly announcing their relationship.
Thanks @lyannamicheloff for being @charlesleclerc lucky charm. Pole Position for our favourite Monegasque.
A wave of anger swept over him. How dare they? Charles had always been more or less discreet about his private life, and although he had no desire to hide Lyanna, this was certainly not the way he'd imagined announcing his relationship to his fans. Lyanna returned to the room, a towel wrapped around her and her hair damp, completely unaware of what just happened. But seeing Charles pale and with a dark look on his face, clutching his phone in his hand until his knuckles were white, she understood. Gently, she approached him and took the phone out of his hand to look at the screen. Charles didn't try to stop her. He felt her tense up and slightly flinch when he threw his arm around her to pull her against him.
“I promise you that they are going to hear me. I don’t care if they are using me but I won’t let them drag you into that. It’s messed up and wrong on so many levels.”
Lyanna had never seen Charles this angry.
“What is done is done, Charles. We just have to deal with it.” She tried to calm down but sounded defeated.
“I’m going to talk to Mia tomorrow. I’m going to explain to her exactly what I think about this kind of shit. Don’t worry, okay.”
“I’m not worrying about me Charles; I’m worried about you. You have a race tomorrow and you are starting on pole, you should not have to deal with this kind of things. I’m going to call my agent and ask for advice. You should rest.”
She got up and took out her phone, already having missed a few texts and calls from family and friends. She chose to ignore them for the time being. She slipped an arm around Charles's neck as she rose and placed a kiss on his cheek before slipping out onto the balcony. As soon as she had closed the door, she dialed her agent and explained the situation.
“I don’t know Lya. It’s really up to you guys. You know that I would never interfere with your relationship. But if you really want my opinion on that, I will tell you to own the narrative and not let it be controlled by someone. But it’s up to you if you want to be public about it and how.” Told her Sofia.
She sighed. She was not comfortable at the idea to give a glimpse of what her relationship was like. Mainly because it was the best way to give people right to speculate, comment and attack them. She wished Sofia a good day and went back inside. She quickly summarized her conversation to Charles, who was lying on the bed, scanning the comments under the Instagram post.
“Some people say that you are using me for fame. As if you needed me to succeed.” He mumbled. “And some of what I assume are your fans are saying that it’s me who is using you. They are fighting in the comments. It would be funny if the situation was not so delicate and dramatic.”
Lyanna took the phone from Charles' hands and placed it on the bedside table before settling down beside him and forcing him to look at her. She had rarely seen him look so defeated and sad.
“We will be fine, we are going to find a way, okay? But for now, it’s late and you have a race to focus on winning. I don’t care about the picture. Well, I’m pissed off but it doesn’t change our relationship. Tomorrow, I’m going to show up with you and I’m going to cheer you on and when you’ll win, I’ll be front row to watch you with a proud smile on my face. Because I love you. No matter what the people and Ferrari think.”
“Thank you. For being you. I must have done something really nice in a past life to have you by my side today.”
When Charles arrived at the paddock with Lyanna the next day, everyone was in a frenzy, wanting a photo and a quick word with the couple. It took Charles and Lyanna almost an hour to get to the Ferrari garage, which made Charles late for his meeting with his engineers and team strategists. They had very little time to themselves, just a few minutes before Charles had to take his place in the car.
“Here, wear this for me, okay?” he said while giving her the famous horse bracelet offered by Lyanna a few months ago. “It’s going to bring me luck I can feel it.”
“You don’t need luck but if it can make you feel better, fine.”
She put it around her wrist before looking at him and taking his hands in hers.
“Well, it’s time for me to go.”
“Then, be fast. Come back to me in one piece. I love you.”
“I love you.”
The race began shortly afterwards. Charles got off to a very good start and managed, not without difficulty, to keep Max under control behind him. Then, on lap 15, the race changed dramatically. While Charles was busy keeping an eye on Max and battling with him, he did not see George attempt to take his chance a few metres behind. Caught between the two cars, the Ferrari ended up colliding violently with the Red Bull and was thrown a few metres above the ground, ending up in the gravel. The dust caused by the debris and gravel did not immediately reveal that the car was upside down, in a way it should not be.
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author's note: I'm going to go hide in a corner. I'm sorry guys but a little bit of drama was needed lmao. Don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts in the comment / ask box / DM wherever you feel most comfortable to do so! It's always a pleasure to read you.
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atthedugouts · 1 month
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not a crime prompt but Yevgeny falling and needing stitches or something and Mick and Svetlana have to take him to the hospital pleease <3
Hi Tee! Thank you for being my fellow Mickey, Svetlana, Yevgeny family truther ❤️ I know this subject is very dear to you so I hope you like this fic!
“It’s hot as balls,” Mickey whined as he sat on a bench in the shade. Svetlana dragged him to the park with her and Yevgeny and to top it off it was Svet’s day to watch the Ball twins and Franny. Just because Svetlana and the others have agreed to a rotating babysitting schedule doesn’t mean he has to be a part of it. Mickey doesn’t like being outnumbered by the children. They all team up together and cause too much trouble.
“Hey,” Svetlana says as she kicked her husband in the shin.
“Fuck that for?”
“We have to watch children. It’s our duty,” Svetlana says sternly.
“We don’t got to do shit,” Mickey says, raising his eyebrows up at his wife. “I’m not the one who agreed to do fucking childcare for free.”
“We all raise children together. Redhead girl will watch Yevy tomorrow. It’s perfect system.”
“They’re playing in a sandbox, how close do you want me to watch them?” Mickey asked. “We can see fine from here. Sit your ass in the shade and eat some applesauce. Ya getting cranky.”
Svetlana looks over her shoulder and sees the children building a sandcastle together. Maybe she was being over cautious. Yevgeny was getting older and maybe at five years old he doesn’t need someone monitoring his every move. With a sigh she joins Mickey on the bench. She watched Yevgeny show Franny how to dig a moat around the castle as Gemma and Amy stuck leaves in the towers as decoration. She’s proud of the nice boy she’s raising.
Mickey elbows her and shows her a video of people taking turns pouring different beverages in a cocktail shaker and drinking the final product. They laughed together as Mickey called the people in the video pussies for not being able to handle their alcohol.
Then a loud thud was heard along with screams that jolted Mickey and Svetlana off of the bench.
Amy came running over with a panicked look on her face.
“Miss Lana!” Amy shouted.
Mickey and Svetlana rushed over to the sandbox and found Yevgeny sitting up with blood trickling down his forehead. Svetlana starts fussing over him in Russian but their son just gave her a confused look.
“Shit,” Mickey said, he knows that confused look. He saw it in his siblings and cousins a lot growing up. “Kid’s got a concussion.”
“What happen?” Svet asked the other kids.
“We started going down the slide,” Gemma said.
“And Yevy said he could go down head first,” Amy finished.
“He went down really fast,” Franny adds with some excitement. 
Svetlana tried to wipe the blood away but more kept coming. She notices the gash is deeper than she originally thought. 
“Shit,” she says. “We must take him to hospital.”
“Fuck we got to do that for?” Mickey says thinking of how expensive ER visits are. “Just give him some ice and make sure he doesn’t fall asleep.”
“He needs stitches,” Svetlana glared at Mickey that reminded him of her hammer that is always waiting for him at home.
“Fine,” Mickey relented. “Everyone in the fucking car.”
Luckily the south side ER was not overrun with gunshot wounds and overdoses so Yevgeny was seen rather quickly. Mickey sat in the waiting room with the girls as Svetlana went with Yevgeny. A nurse gave the girls coloring supplies so they could make get well cards for Yevy. Mickey’s hands shaked as they itched for a cigarette. The realization of what happened hit him. Svetlana was right, the kids do need to be watched over. He remembers getting concussions when he was a kid and what a terrifying experience it could be. Though that could be because of the traumatizing way they happened. His dad was usually the source of pain. Fuck, was Yevgeny going to be scared of him now? Mickey was about his age when he started to be afraid of Terry. Shit, what if the hospital thinks he hit him. They have the power to call CPS and take him away.
Mickey texted Ian to let him know what was going on. He didn’t want to bother him at work but didn’t know what else to do. Being in the waiting room Mickey had flashbacks to the first time he messed up with Yevgeny. When he picked up his baby son from the police station that was the first time we realized that he loved him. When the police officer placed him in his arms Mickey whispered his apologies into his tiny ears and promised he would never put him in danger again. Today he broke that promise. 
Svetlana entered the waiting room with Yevgeny in her arms and the doctor next to her.
“Mr. Milkovich?” the doctor greets.
Mickey stands up and nods his head.
“You got a brave boy here,” the doctor says about Yevgeny.
“Of course he is, he’s a Milkovich. Right little man?” Mickey says, raising his hand to Yevgeny to high five. Yevgeny weakly slaps his dad’s hand. The doctor gives a little chuckle.
“He’s going to be a little tired for the next day or two but he should recover just fine,” the doctor says. “Concussions can be a rite of passage for some active kids. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest, do your best to keep him away from screens for the next 48 hours, that includes tablets,” both Svetlana and Mickey scoffed at that, like they have money to give their child his own iPad. “If his head keeps bothering him you can put ice on his head and if it hurts anymore you can give him another dose of tylenol in a couple hours. If he starts showing worse symptoms like vomiting or seizures-”
“Seizures!” Svetlana says with fear and Mickey’s heart dropped. Could Yevgeny have permanent brain damage because of this?
“I wouldn’t worry much about it,” the doctor says in a calming tone. “It’s highly unlikely but just in case bring him right back and we’ll take care of him.”
After receiving the aftercare instructions the group heads back to the car. The girls try showing him the drawings they made but Yevgeny could barely keep his eyes open. When Mickey got behind the wheel his phone buzzed. He got a text back from Ian with way too many emojis like always. He basically said the same thing the doctor said and promised to bring home ice packs from work. 
“Dad?” Yevgeny weakly asks. He was curled up in Svetlana’s lap in the passenger's seat next to Mickey.
“Yeah little man?”
“Can we get pizza?” Mickey looked at Svetlana. He was sure she would protest and insist on making something healthy so he could recover better. Instead she simply nods her head as she lightly runs her hands through Yevgeny’s blond hair.
“Of course,” Mickey replied. He drives out of the parking lot and silently promises that starting from this moment he will do better. He will be a better father and do what Terry couldn’t. He will protect his son.
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