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#claiming they could ~feel her spirit~
area51-escapee · 1 year
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Begging true crime armchair detectives to understand that you are not Sherlock Holmes you are not special you will not solve the next big case you are doing nothing but putting misinformation out there and spreading harmful rumors and stereotypes. Real life and real tragedies are not murder mystery games you are actively harming people with your insane theories you are centering yourselves rather than the victims you are speaking over survivors and families and friends you are making up batshit insane lies just because you have a “feeling” and it’s not okay it’s not harmless it’s legitimately dangerous and heartless and it’s fucking disgusting how you refuse to see that
#I understand having an interest in true crime I understand wanting to follow certain cases#but having an internet connection does not give you to credentials and the ability to solve a case#and these are real people who deserve respect when you speak about them and there are families and survivors who ask for stories to be#shared to raise awareness#but making wild guesses and accusations is not spreading awareness#it’s attention seeking its clout chasing and its dangerous#it is not ‘suspicious’ that a women survived a massacre it’s a fucking /miracle/#and to begin placing doubt and blame and suspicion on her just to grab people’s attention and make the case sound ‘juicer’#is fucking appalling how fucking dare you#it’s happening with this case a tiktoker is getting rightfully sued for making wild accusations against a woman who was a complete stranger#to her#about a case she has absolutely nothing to do with#it happened with the gabby petito case#there were goddamn self proclaimed ‘psychics’ posting videos#claiming they could ~feel her spirit~#claiming she was absolutely alive or claiming she died this way and that and they knew for sure because they were ‘psychic’#I think people who claim to be psychic to prey on grieving families and draw attention from big cases are fucking disgusting#it happened here!!!! in my town!!!!!!!#a woman was kidnapped!!!!!#and instead of focusing on her and helping her everyone focused one one interview her boyfriend gave on the news#I saw this interview myself as it aired#and people online were claiming they knew for sure he absolutely did it it had to be him he HAD to be guilty#and while it’s true they often investigate the partner first in these cases#these armchair detectives were claiming he was just like Chris fucking watts#‘because he moved his arms a certain way’#because behavior analysis videos have poisoned people’s brains into seeing every blink every stretch every twitch as suspicious#the case was solved shortly later. he had absolutely nothing to do with it. this man lost his wife and child and was deemed guilty#by the Internet. because he raised his arms above his head in stress????#fuck off#it’s fucking gross
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seaweedstarshine · 1 month
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Sometimes I think of Amy Pond, who grew up being called mad by those who wielded the word as a tool of exclusion and shame —
Amy Pond, who though forced into the hands of four psychiatrists, still clung to that which they called madness until those systems which elevate psychosocial conformity above humanity stripped it from her —
Amy Pond, whose imaginary friend reappeared for a single hour after twelve years and reignited that faith before disappearing for two more years —
Amy Pond, who spent those those two years under the same implicit threat ingrained in her through psychiatric violence, and thus began to believe the man who stopped the invasion was “just a madman with a box,” only for him to agree, and to also call her “mad, impossible Amy Pond,” reframing madness as non-negative for the first time in her life —
Amy Pond, who ignored the disembodied voice of her imaginary friend even as she ran away with him for real, who still lived each day with the traumatic internalization of deviancy dictated upon her by the psychiatric-industrial complex that shaped her from childhood —
Amy Pond, who wouldn't acknowledge the Doctor's voice, such that it took an Angel in her eye that was literally killing her to ensure she couldn't reality check herself —
Amy Pond, who stood before a room which muttered about “the psychiatrists we brought her to,” and though afraid, escaped their rigid parameters of acceptable existence.
#I like seeing it as indicating she began hearing his voice when he was gone for all those years! why else wouldn't she say anything?#actually psychotic Amy agenda#Amy Pond#eleventh doctor#reclaimed language#oh look its another antipsychiatry themed doctor who post#sumn abt in Fairies At The Bottom Of The Garden audio AND Imaginary Enemies comic we see Amelia bein called slurs against psychotic people#(shes called psycho in both)#like!!! and SO MUCH OF AMYS STORY is about her claiming her agency in ways that previous companions weren't allowed to-#companions whose status as a Wife was a signifier of an to end of their value individually- 'this is no place for a married woman' etc#in some cases Wife-ness forced upon them *as* a denial of agency 'I spent all that time trying to find you I'm not going back now!' etc#whereas Amys story deconstructs that; Amys “Choice” is an illusion- Amy being a Wife doesn't demote her agency as an companion#anyways I love that aspect of reclaimed agency for Amy but ALSO#“madness” as an expression of agency against systems of oppression is SO relevant. the mind defends itself and the alternative isnt better#the oppressive system in this case being ableist structures and the psychiatric system ITSELF which is a whole other layer#the moral being that even if the Doctor WAS a delusion? he'd still be a needed coping mechanism for a child who says “ppl always leave”#and instead of examining her feelings of abandonment they insist 'aLiENs DoNt ExIsT' as seen in the 'sTaRs DoNt ExIsT' psychiatrist in TBB#they don't care that she's in PAIN- why would they?- they just care that she's 'abnormal' and therefore not deserving of humanity#(eleventh) doctor is neurodivergent tag#I mean technically this is about Amy but I once (twice) used that tag on the post about the Master. its the spirit of it!#and Amy Pond + her Raggedy Doctor as “mad” people is very *chefs kiss*#((you know what im putting the tag on my last Amy post :D ))#Mels experienced this very differently and I'll make a post about her at some point- I just wanna make sure my points are got across better#sumn abt Amelia's “crazy” was Mels' “delinquency.” Amy treated as if she doesn't know her own life while Mels treated as threatening#sumn abt adultification of Black girls while Amy is infantilized#Amy Pond who could rewrite reality in a reborn universe because she grew up with a Crack in her wall that no one believed was special —#ableism#saneism#unreality#because I mean Amy's stand against psychiatric dehumanization was to REWRITE THE UNIVERSE with her Crack powers
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ghostgirl101 · 2 months
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
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You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
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deadsetobsessions · 5 months
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AU of my Gotham/Tim Drake! Danny where Danny doesn’t know any knowledge beforehand about the DC universe.
Danny doesn’t know how he got here, but the fact that he now shares something in common with Vlad other than their technical halfa status disgusts him
His new name is Timothy Jackson Drake. It’s so far removed from Danny that his parents had him examined for deafness because he didn’t respond to it. He got better at it, at putting on the mask Janet and Jack Drake wanted to see. So they took him to the circus.
He meets Dick Grayson. Danny thinks the kid is adorable, even if Danny himself is technically younger. He sees the flying Graysons fall. The buzzing in his head doesn’t go away.
He’s five, when the fading spirit of Gotham reaches out and pleads her King to protect her city in her stead. She is fading. He says yes, because she’s one of his. The buzzing in his head settles and oh because that’s what’s been missing this entire time. Danny didn’t have a haunt and Gotham gave him one.
He grieves when she dies, the new title settling around small shoulders, and the city grieves with him. In the city proper, Batman and Robin are having the worst night of their lives in the sudden storm.
He’s nine. Robin is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, in turn, is an idiot. Batman… well, he’s at least mentoring and protecting the child vigilante, which is more than Danny ever had. He grows fond of them. How could he not, when they tried their hardest to help his city? To help him?
He shows himself, to the duo, in his Phantom form. It’s still him, still modeled after Danny Fenton’s face instead of Tim Drake’s. Ghosts are a reflection of the soul, after all.
“Who are you,” Batman demands, shielding Robin with half a step.
“Gotham.” He replies. Danny wills the city to affirm his claim and the city wraps its arms around the vigilantes. Batman and Robin understands, a deep well of pure knowledge being tapped into in ways they weren’t truly meant to understand.
“…How?”
“Magic,” Phantom says, dry. He tells them of city spirits, and that they can call him in times of dire need.
Dick calls him to help with Two Face. Two Face learns the pain of unmelting ice to the balls.
His core aches when the Bats fight, but Danny knows now that it is inevitable. They’re part of his haunt, his ‘fraid. He knows these things far before they come into fruition.
Dick moves to a sister city. Phantom expands his haunt to Bludhaven because he doesn’t, won’t, ever leave his Robins to themselves.
Nightwing is hopeful, is pleasantly surprised, and very suspicious when he shows up during patrol.
“Gotham…? What are you doing here…? This isn’t, well, Gotham?”
“Satellite City. It is an extension of myself. You were Robin, yes. You’re Nightwing, now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you when I can.”
Phantom goes back, and finds a kid trying to steal tires to make a living. He guides his Knight to him. The starved features, the bones Danny could see, it tugs at his core. It feels like the Ancient of Fate themselves were pulling him along.
“How’d you know I was taking the wheels?”
“Gotham.”
“Are you… high on shrooms or something?”
Bruce sighs. Batman asks Gotham to meet the new Robin, and chuckles when Jason is surprised by the glowing green figure.
Phantom hides this Robin just as much as the last one. He curls shadows around his vigilantes, sometimes at the same time, and softens what little sounds they made while stalking through his city for crime.
He makes small jokes with Jason. Danny forgets, a little, the crushing loneliness of being Timothy Drake.
“I didn’t kill Garzona!”
“You-”
Batman stops as a chill he’s never had experienced directed at him weaves around his neck. An angry Gotham.
“He didn’t kill him.” Danny slides a cold hand on Jason’s shoulders.
But the damage had been done and the next day, Batman is begging Danny to tell him any clues of where Jason had gone.
“Ethiopia.”
He clears the way for Batman to get to Robin. He clears the way for Bruce to get to Jason.
He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Batman would handle everything when in the end, he’s just a man in a mantle that demands more than he ever thought he’d have to pay.
Robin is dead and Danny grieves. The skies crack open and pours a torrent of smogged rain water upon the streets of Gotham. Despite that, Crime Alley is untouched by flood. They say the second Robin was protecting his home.
In a way, it’s not wrong.
Gotham fishes Batman from the bay, carelessly tossing the broken Joker against a shipping container.
“You can’t keep doing this. You’ll die.”
Bruce, Batman, lays on his back, eyes glazed and empty. “Maybe I want to.” He admits. And Danny can’t lose someone else. It’s already bad enough he feels the death of everyone in his city, he can’t lose him too. But Dick won’t come back. He already denied Gotham when Phantom had asked him to come back. Granted, Dick was nervous about denying him the entire time, but Danny realized that he’d lost a brother in the colors his parents chose for Dick. Danny- Phantom had cradled Dick in a swaddle of shadows and comfort.
“Alright.”
“Is it? Alright? I- I don’t want to fail you, Gotham.”
“It is. You’ve always made me proud. You will always make me proud. Whether it be by different name, it matters to me not. Stay. Heal.”
Like Dick was given permission, like he received a hint of peace, Dick Grayson crumpled to the floor and sobbed into Gotham’s shoulder.
(Later, long after Dick Grayson realized his little brother was also his city personified, he cries again into Tim’s shoulders after the later dropped a flower pot perfectly on top of Catalina Flores’ head.)
Gotham, Phantom, Danny makes a choice.
“Tomorrow, a child will show up at your door. You will let him in.”
“No- I can’t. I won’t.” He knows what Danny will ask of him.
“You will.” Danny doesn’t ever do it with his people, with his city, but dire times call for dire actions. It is an order. And Batman is Gotham’s knight. “You will. You will train him. You need a Robin to leash your brutality. I need a Robin, for Robin is my hope. The city’s hope. Our people’s hope. Do not forget the goal you have set out to accomplish in my city.”
Batman rages at him, until he falls unconscious from the wounds he’s gathered. Danny brings him home. He tells Alfred what to expect tomorrow. Bruce wakes up, eyes fixated on the crack that appeared on Danny’s neon green face. “Did. Did I do that?”
Danny nods slowly.
Batman crumples into Bruce Wayne. “Okay.” He says. “Alright. Tomorrow.”
Gotham watches him, unreadable. “Tomorrow.” He says, before fading away.
Tim Drake shows up at the door. Nightwing shows up not long after. Tim Drake adapts to Bruce Wayne’s cold looks and brutal training. Slowly, but surely, he leashes in Batman’s grief fueled brutality and less criminals go to prison with half of their lives beaten out of them.
Batman doesn’t see Gotham as much anymore. He feared that he’s angered his city, that he is no longer welcome.
When Tim figures it out… he allows the roads and the shadows to help Batman once more.
Batman stared intently at the extra coverage. “Thank you,” Tim hears him whisper. “I’m sorry.”
And when Jason Todd comes back to life and attacks Tim in the tower, Tim lets Hood beat him. Gotham had failed him, as Jason’s city. He deserves it. (He doesn’t but Danny had gone past the point of being healthy about his own physical wellbeing. Perhaps being a city spirit this long had affected him, even with the King’s title mitigating the worst of the damages.
“HE REPLACED ME!”
“Because I ordered him to.” Tim whispers, past the pain of a broken leg.
“You? Order Batman around? If you’re going to lie, make it a better one, Replacement.”
Tim catches Jason’s wrist, the one holding the knife to Tim’s throat.
“Robin,” he says simply, allowing Gotham to come out and peer at the child that is his.
Jason stares, disbelieving. Gotham had… Gotham had come by and approved of his plans to clean up Crime Alley. Gotham had extracted a promise not to damage the buildings.
“No.”
His city stares back and him and Jason stumbles away. Tim shifts into Danny, into Gotham.
“You…”
“I am Gotham. I- I did not want to wear these colors. They were yours and Dick’s. But Bruce was hurting the city, he was hurting me. So I made sure he stopped.”
Jason stares at the new cracks, the fresh ones he just caused and the old ones he does not remember being on Danny’s ghostly skin.
Jason swallows. “I’m sorry.”
“As am I. I am sorry I was not there to save you. I am sorry that you died.”
Jason stares at him. The Replacement is Gotham. Jason almost destroyed his city.
“I am glad that you’ve returned. That you’re alive, now.”
“…Really?”
“Always.”
Alternative Version of the above Tower Scene:
Jason slides the knife against the Replacement’s neck.
Danny sighs. “I can’t believe I’m dying again.”
Jason pauses. “What the fuck did you just say, Replacement?”
Danny rolls his eyes at him and Jason rethinks his decision of not offing the little fucker right away.
“You think you’re the first one to die in this household? Get a grip. I did it first, way before you did, jackass.”
Tim is 14. He’s a child. What the fuck is Jason doing?
“When…?”
“How do you think I became Gotham, little bird?”
Jason freezes. And then he’s scrambling backwards, the knife flung away in his horror.
Tim shifts into Gotham and Jason bites back a cut of regret and bitterness.
He… no, what? What even is happening?
“Why is the Joker not dead? You… you told me that you loved me. That Gotham… that-”
“I’m cruel, little bird. The Joker would not suffer as much if he were dead.”
“He’s killing people! He’s killing your own!”
“So everyone thinks.”
“What?”
“I am Gotham, little bird. Mass hallucinogenic gasses are so within my reach to the point it is concerning. Perhaps you should help Ivy with the city clean up?”
“Huh?!”
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worldsover · 7 months
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Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin
length ✦ 10k
genres ✧ it's a lot of oral, but hey, there's plot too; friends-to-lovers!Heejin
✦✧✦✧✦✧
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Your fist clenches in a tight ball.
"If I die because of you, you better feed my fish."
"Die? You're being ridiculous," Heejin says.
You have a lot you could retort in that moment. Such as, "Me, the ridiculous one?" Or, "I'm being serious, I'm gonna actually die." Or, "You're actively contributing to the degradation of the meaning of language if you're claiming my suffering as ridiculous and assuming I'm participating in the honorable but currently inapplicable trope of hyperbole." All these things you can say, and you're without audible retort. This is the fourth time today Heejin's lips encircle your shaft; you were past dry by the third, because she would not let go of your cock for five minutes after your climax (because you didn't stop her).
Heejin's eyes beg, her lashes flutter, her tongue tempts, slithering, slick, and you think maybe you can spare her one more load.
Her mouth slips smoothly from the base of your cock to the head and then, pop. One big bubble of spit. She adds more, saliva foaming up on her tongue that's sticking out and toying with your tip.
"Don't die? Pwease?"
How ridiculous—or you could transcend to immortality at her behest.
All the while, she's sucking your dick in this bathroom like it's mere leisure for her. Like cigarettes to a smoker, she's blowing you like smoke, dirtying her throat, burning you up. Far past dignity now, the only thing she has between her knees and the floor is a bunch of toilet paper. The picture of addiction she paints is unfortunate and raw honesty and vivid contrast between such an elegant woman and such an inelegant solution to hunger. Despite how cavalier and practiced she is about introducing your tip to her uvula, Heejin will never give you a tidy blowjob. She salivates, every time, her tongue a wicked beast of its own, a serpent that can't lie above its love. And on the other hand, you can grumble and grouse all you want—if Heejin says your cock is going in her mouth, then…
You should've seen this coming like how you don't see yourself cumming because your eyelids are wired shut by the pretty agony of this orgasm. When you open them, her (fake, important to make the distinction) glasses are covered in streaks, her hands still twisting, tongue still licking your underside. Determination in her eyes says that every drop will be wrung out. It's possible this isn't leisure, but rather, business, and cum margins are getting lower as damnable inflation rises. She'll squeeze you dry for every last dollar of semen, no apologies to the sperm banks.
When Heejin is done, she sips on your cockhead, then a final kiss. You slump over the toilet and she pats your shoulder, laughing; it's a mean-spirited chuckle, but your dying wish is to hear that laugh one last time, so good on her for the penny of kindness she could spare like an insurance company donating to a hospital.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"How could anyone love sucking dick that much?" Jinsol asks.
You look at Jinsol, then look at Heejin. Then, look at Haseul, and look at Heejin again. You've never gotten used to this dynamic. How much are you supposed to interject between three drunk girls talking? Are you meant to at all? The topic has already gone off-course, and there's no captain to steer the ship back when you're six bottles down.
Your eyes fall on Heejin, then Haseul.
"Oh, man," Heejin says, downing a shot. Her hand falls around her cleavage, as she feels the warmth of the alcohol envelop her and shudders, eyes closed. "Do you really want to get into this?"
Look at Jinsol and Haseul as they laugh, and you join in laughter, and you look at Heejin again; now, she's serious, rolled up her sleeves for good measure. Let's address the whole looking at Heejin thing, because it's so apparent, even to your drunk ass, that it must be apparent to the others too—you asked her out a while ago, first year of college, rejection, but you're still friends now. Then, despite that, she started getting touchier, somehow more flirtatious. Drove and drives you fucking mad. This little hangout thing at Haseul's place is a long ways away (call it half a year) from getting four oral sessions in a day, though you remember it as being a pivotal stepping stone to the routine.
Focus. You're always putting on a performance, and the actors of the nerves of your brain are having trouble getting the script from the filing cabinets. Question: is it more or less suspicious to allocate, say, three glances toward Haseul and Jinsol each to compensate?
"Sure," Haseul says, still giggling to herself. She's been doing that ever since asked the first question. "What's so wonderful about getting your jaw sore and your mouth dry?"
Heejin makes an angry noise and says through gritted teeth, "It's not about that, obviously. There's so much more to sucking dick than the…" She gestures with her arms, unable to find a word.
"Why do you like it, Heejin?" you ask. Everyone stares at you. "Sorry, nevermind."
"No, no, it's fine," Heejin says."Lemme just, how do I put this? It's like, when you're sucking dick, you feel like you're controlling the dude. You decide when he gets hard, when he gets wet, and when he cums."
"So, you're a sadist," Jinsol says.
"Sadist, my ass," Heejin retorts. "It's… empowering. Sucking dick is empowering."
Huh. The alcohol fizzles and dies in your mind, and Heejin's deep voice echoes in your head to take the place—oh, Heejin is fucking wasted, by the way. Drank as much as the other two combined, but still standing (sitting), but barely.
"Weird," Jinsol replies.
Haseul crosses her arms, facing Jinsol. "Hey, don't kink shame."
"No, no, you don't get it. There's another reason," Heejin continues, verging mad by now. Her cheeks are turning red. "Dicks taste good. Taste amazing, even. And… dicks have faces."
Haseul spits out soju. Jinsol coughs soju. You're lucky you weren't mid-drink.
"Dicks have faces?" Jinsol and Haseul say together.
"Y-yeah," Heejin says, her face flushed. "Dicks have faces. Like, if you suck on the head a bit, you can see different expressions. If you lick the underside, you can see them smile. If you swallow deep… they cry."
Your pants tighten. Somehow, you get it.
She says quietly and quickly, "Oh and also I like the taste of cum. Alright, fine, I really like the taste of cum." She gets louder. "Fine, okay, geez, I LOVE the taste of cum! Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Everyone bursts out in laughter. Heejin sips angrily on soju.
"Alright, Heejin," you say. "That was quite an enlightening explanation."
"Shut up, you," she says, sternly.
You gulp.
Haseul and Jinsol go get snacks from the kitchen, leaving you and Heejin alone.
"Dicks have faces, huh," you say.
"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"
"Not a chance. You know, no one made you say all that."
Heejin grumbles. You try to get closer, but she puts her hand on your thigh.
"You've got a boner," she says. "Stop."
"Wha? What do you mean?"
"Stop." Heejin stares at you with a serious face, contrasting all the redness in her cheeks.
You don't know where to start with a response.
"It's just, I don't wanna make things weird"—too late—"and obviously all this girls' talk has you riled up or whatever"—by the way, Heejin's hand is slinking higher up your pants—"and I know it's not your fault, but, we're friends, and I don't wanna ruin that."
"S-sorry."
"Good boy."
Heejin had to look in your eyes while saying that one, huh?
You clear your throat, and all efforts to tame your second brain fail. Another drink. It's agonizing, waiting for Haseul and Jinsol to return. Then, Haseul and Jinsol return. Snacks. Too little, too late. There are probably other conversations as the night goes on, but your mind is already spinning from the alcohol, spinning even further at dirty thoughts incepted by Heejin. Eventually, Haseul and Jinsol conk out, and Heejin helps you carry them to Haseul's room.
"Heejin," you say. "I can carry them myself."
"Yeah, I know. Isn't it usually Jinsol who passes out last?"
You would scoff at Heejin's remark, though with your mind elsewhere, you just nod. After you lay Jinsol and Haseul delicately on the bed, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you jerk off furiously. You've never tugged yourself without a video in tow or some other material to assist, and you've never felt this urge drunk, but the mere concept of Heejin sucking off your cock like she needs it is enough for you to cum. Mark this as the inevitable inciting incident: the door swings open as you pump your last shot.
You make eye contact. Heejin blinks. Cum flies.
"Uh," you say.
"Woah," she says.
You say nothing.
Heejin closes the door.
"Shit," you mutter and you've used too much toilet paper wiping down where you shot and you're fumbling and you almost trip over yourself and—goddammit, what the fuck just happened. Once you clean yourself off, you go outside.
Heejin is standing there.
"It's fine. Don't sweat it," she says.
"I… I don't know if I can. You know. If I can, like, not sweat it, fuck." You sigh. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. Look, I'm gonna take the bed in her other room, you're fine with the couch right?"
You're drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch when Heejin shakes you awake.
"Huh?" you say.
"You know, I lied."
"About what?"
"Sucking dick having faces."
You blink. You rub your eyes.
"I lied. Dicks don't have faces. Cocks have personalities."
You're too tired to say anything. You just stare at Heejin. You smell a bit more alcohol on her shirt.
"Well, no, I mean, it's true, dicks have faces. But also cocks have personalities."
You think, but no words come out.
"The difference is, um, when a cock has personality, it has preferences and stuff. Like… preference for speed, depth, and tightness. When a cock has personality, you can tell when it likes and doesn't like what you're doing."
You nod off.
"Like, I could tell you would really like if I take all of you in my mouth. You definitely look more like an intimate, slow deepthroat kind of guy, you know, instead of the facefucking, gagging thing. It's like MBTI, yeah, that's it. Your cock is definitely an I, not an E. Oh, maybe a lot of tongue action? But not in the teasing the tip for the whole time sort of thing. Or, am I wrong? What kind of blowjobs do you like? Because you have the kind of cock I wanna tease, and the kind of dick I wanna kiss and why did you waste that load on a tissue, like are you kidding…"
Your eyes are closed.
A woman's deep voice. "Right. Well. Anyways, it's pretty late, and we're both drunk. So, uh. Good night. I guess."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You wake up. Sunlight. Snack wrappers. Haseul and Jinsol nowhere to be found, or awake, rather. Heejin is next to you on the couch—no, you're hugging each other—actually, she's draped over you like a blanket, and your erection is pushing against her ass.
Heejin wakes up.
"Shit," you say, getting up. "I'm sorry."
"Didn't I tell you to... ugh, whatever."
You sit on Haseul's couch, rubbing the sleep and hangover out of your face, crust out of your eyes. You stretch, hearing creaks in your bones. Heejin sits up, looks forward.
"Last night," she starts. "I might have said some, uh, crazy things."
You snort.
Looking at you, she frowns. She doesn't seem hungover at all, not a bead of sweat on her forehead. Her hair is perfect, as are her pouty lips.
Your brow upturned, you scoff. "Like, crazy? That's one way to put…"
There's a twist in those lips now, like she's running it back in her head; now you are too.
"I mean—yeah, that's the right word, but..."
She's still staring at you, and your mind's really running in circles and sure she laid out the track herself but you could just run off it at any time.
Oh, you're following the track still? "It's, just, I'm, I'm sorry for, what I was, you know, doing. Last night."
Heejin sighs. "I told you. Stop apologizing. It's fine."
"Okay," you say.
You make an excuse to Heejin about getting home, despite wanting nothing more than to spend time with her. What's the point of hanging out when it's just going to make your crush on her worse.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
When you get home, you end up jerking off three times in a row in your own bathroom, but at least you aren't interrupted any of those times. 
A few days after the party, you've been thinking about Heejin's joke a lot more than you should.
The worst thing is that Heejin is being all chummy with you again like nothing happened. You wonder if she's doing that on purpose. Either way, you've learned that you need to distance yourself. You've been avoiding group hangouts. You haven't answered your texts in a couple days. You've avoided the pet store the both of you always visit, instead opting to support local businesses like—insert large delivery corporation here (no free advertising)—for your fish food. This goes on for a week.
The week ends when Jungeun comes to your house.
"What?" you say, lounging, staring at air bubbles floating to the top of your little aquarium.
"Don't 'what' me," Jungeun replies through the closed door. "Open up."
"No."
"Look, I'm here because Heejin is really sad, and so Haseul wanted to know why you're not talking to Heejin, and I volunteered because I could tell Heejin really wants to see you and not just talk to you."
"Jungeun, I don't know."
"Listen. I'm not leaving."
Ten minutes later, Jungeun is eating potato chips in your room.
"So… why are you avoiding her?" Jungeun asks.
"What does she want to say to me?" you ask.
Jungeun pauses. "She… told me to tell you to go see her."
You sit on your sofa next to Jungeun, grabbing chips out of the bag. They're your chips.
"She didn't tell me to tell you what exactly it is, but it's important," Jungeun continues. "But honestly, what's been up with you?"
"Nothing's been up with me. I'm the same guy."
"That sounds like someone who has not been the same guy."
You eat more chips. "And how are things going with you and Jinsol," you say.
Jungeun stops slouching. "Hey, don't try and change the subject. For the record, it's been going fine, thank you very much."
"Sounds like you're still in the friendzone."
"You're the last person I want to hear that from."
"Me, the last person? I'd assume Jinsol would be the last person you want to hear that from."
"Fine! Just stop being a dumbass, okay? Heejin really, really wants to talk to you."
You put your hands up. "Okay. You win. I'll talk to her."
"Awesome." Jungeun looks down at her phone, then looking back up, she smiles. "Oh, by the way, Yerim just texted me, she finally finished exams for the semester. What if Heejin and Yerim both come over? We can get everything out of the way, two for one deal."
You sigh. "Yeah, I guess."
She pats you on the shoulder.
You feel no less comforted.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Two for one deal, your ass. You're pacing around your bedroom. Yerim and Jungeun are playing Smash in the living room, and Heejin is… somewhere, probably. The door is shut. All the noise in the world is muffled. You don't know what to expect. Obviously, Heejin needs to talk to you; you're her friend, one of her best friends, and you've been ignoring her for the past week. You sit down. Take a deep breath.
Knock, knock.
"Come in," you say.
You sit on your bed. So does Heejin. You look away. Look down. She smells really, really good, sweet and warm. You've missed her, a lot.
"Hey," Heejin says.
So she's talking first. "Hey," you respond.
You were already loosening up your tense shoulders, but Heejin says "So, Mr. Dickface" and you laugh and you look at Heejin, casually stunning in a simple outfit, a white tee, black shorts.
"Heejin, come on. It's been a week. I swear I would've forgotten if you didn't bring it up."
She pouts.
"Okay," you say, "alright, I would have not forgotten, fine. I still can't believe you. Dicks having faces."
She laughs now.
There's a lull in the conversation. The sound of Yerim shouting and buttons mashing is barely audible. You turn to face Heejin, and she's still looking at you. Her eyes are… soft, vulnerable. She's holding herself.
"Listen," Heejin says. "I'm sorry if I've been weird these past... mmm, months? I know you're not dumb, and I guess, I've been treating you like you are."
You whisper, "I am dumb though."
"No, you're not." She scoffs. "I'm sorry, seriously. We're friends. And friends don't lead each other on and play games"—the sound of a cheer coming from outside the room, definitely Jungeun—"okay, well, they do, but friends don't keep their friends wondering."
"Wondering?"
Heejin sighs. "Let me just get this off my chest. So, yeah, I like you. A lot. Obviously, you've liked me since the beginning. Or, well, loved. When you asked me out, I was excited and nervous and confused, but I... You know me. I've got a million things going on at the same time. Dating as a possibility didn't even cross my mind."
"Yeah. I get it. I don't blame you for that. I guess if we're both laying it all out, I get it. I swear I do. It's that dynamic that always fucks up a friendship between guy and a girl, and I think it's good we got that question out of the way early. But like, I was shocked, obviously, when you started touching me so much, holding hands, sitting on my lap, hugging me." You pause and look away. "It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Like you were playing with my feelings."
Heejin reaches out and takes your hand. "I wasn’t playing with you," she says softly. “I was playing with myself"—half a giggle comes out of you, adding some levity, and she smacks your shoulder—"No, not like that. What was I saying? Right, I guess I was trying to figure out what I wanted."
"Right." Your head hangs again. "So what? I'm just a bystander? A side effect?"
"Yes."
She laughs, squeezing your hand. You pout.
"I'm kidding. You're more than that. Way more. I've learned that much by now."
Heejin takes a long pause.
You can hear breathing, neither exhalations nor inhalations matching pace. It's tense.
"You know what else I learned? Because there's something else on my mind right now. Sort of, sparking in my head, shouting. I know we're having this whole heartfelt thing and I'm sorry for ruining it, but I have to say this because you have a boner and it's springing in your pants and I might be drooling or something—fuck. I've learned that I love sucking dick. A lot. Okay?"
This is the first time you've seen Heejin get so flustered, so bothered. So are you.
She isn't looking at you, yet she continues anyway: "Well. I have to be honest. That's all hypothetical. You know, I've never actually done it. I've just thought about it. A lot. And, obviously, you know, cucumbers turn to dildos and other toys and stuff. And then I saw your dick. And now I've thought about your dick and keep thinking about it."
Your heart skips a beat.
"Yeah." Heejin starts nodding, gaining confidence. "Yeah. I'm certain now. And please, don't think you're taking advantage of me or something, because you're not. In fact, I want you to take advantage of me."
Your breath stays in your lungs.
"How about this," Heejin says, leaning in more. "Do you wanna… fuck around? Or, well, I mean, that's a crass way of putting it. Be my partner in crime. Suckbuddy. Fuckfriend. Whatever you call it. No strings attached. You want a blowjob? You'll get a blowjob. That kind of thing. Even if it's not dating or whatever, we just do what we want to do and we can figure it out later."
Your smile grows slowly. "You know what? Sounds good to me."
"That's it? I drop all that in front of you and you're just, 'sounds good to me'?"
"Okay, fine. Here. I forgive you. That good?"
"Actually, that helps." Heejin exhales, a sigh of relief. "Great."
Silence. Cleared throats. The both of you sit closer now. Her knees bump into yours, and she giggles. She holds your hand. Your eyes meet. You're holding her gaze and her body heat is emanating from her skin and you want her, badly.
"You look handsome today," Heejin whispers. "Have I told you that lately?"
"No," you say, quieter, feeling meek. "You haven't. Thank you."
Her free hand brushes strands of hair.
"Your hair, so cute," she says, happily humming.
Heejin scoots even closer as her knee nudges between your legs.
"Nothing to say? Mm… okay. I have a question."
"What is it?"
Heejin kisses you, immediately catching your lips before you can breath, a taste of chocolate-tinged lip gloss, as her tongue mingles with yours. Her hand lays over your bulge, and her leg is still bumping into your crotch. She pulls away.
"Wow. You're kissing good," she says, flustered.
"No, you're better at it. Amazing. You're amazing."
"God, you're sweet." She laughs.
Your mouths are together again. You pull her into a hug, and she squeals.
"Woah there," she says.
"Sorry. Got a little excited."
"It's fine." Heejin looks away. 
You squeeze her harder, and she squeezes you harder. You break the hug.
"Hey. How far," Heejin starts, "do you think we want to go?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, right now. In the moment. If I'm reading this right, and I think I am, you really, really want me. So how far? Are we just gonna kiss this time? Or do you wanna go a bit further? A lot further."
You freeze. "Honestly, you decide."
"You sure? Because, if I had it my way, I, um, I don't think I'll stop sucking your dick until Yerim finally wins a round and they wonder where the fuck we've been."
Your eyes are wide. "Y-you're really picturing that, aren't you? The two of them barging in while my cock is down your throat."
She does not reply.
"You are unbelievable."
"I can't help it," she says, almost whining. "You have the sort of cock I really want to play with."
You pull Heejin back into another hug, kissing her. She pushes you onto the bed and straddles your thighs. Her body heat, her scent, her hands caressing you. This is the first time you're feeling this much of her body against your own, and it's incredible. Even better—much, much better—is when she lifts up her shirt, revealing a simple, black bra. She takes her shirt off completely, and your hands grab at her stomach. How many times have you watched her do ab workouts for an ungodly amount of time, hoping one day you could feel her six-pack for yourself? Your hands then trail up higher, until you're grabbing at her tits, still ensconced within the confines of a bra, but her breasts are heavenly, perky, waiting to be squished and bounced on your hands.
Heejin has other designs for you: she grabs both of your wrists and pins them to the bed above your head. Your pants are tenting, and she grinds against your cock. You moan.
"I love seeing you like this," Heejin says. She lowers her torso onto yours, breasts spilling out of her bra a bit. She grinds harder, and you moan again. "You're so hot, and you're all for me. God, I wanna… fuck around so much."
She backs up, dragging her crotch down your leg as she descends. When she reaches your foot, she sits and puts it between her legs.
"Shit, Heejin," you say.
She bends over to kiss your neck.
"Your foot… feels good. I'll never say that again, so don't you dare make fun of me."
"Wouldn't dream of it. You can always tell me what you like."
She's rubbing her crotch against your ankle and taking your shirt off. Her lips move down to your nipple, licking circles around it.
"Your cock… feels big," she says. She grabs at it through your pants. "I'm so fucking excited for the real thing."
You've imagined this moment so many times. You'd fantasized about being pinned to a bed, about being teased by Heejin, of course, but you didn't expect, couldn't ever picture how she'd really sound, how she'd actually feel, how it would feel to be touched, licked, kissed by her. And yet here she is, biting on your nipple, moaning herself as she uses your foot.
She lets go. "Your… chest is so nice."
"Uh, thanks."
Heejin smiles and returns to biting, but on your other nipple instead. Her next pecks and licks are on your own abs, tracing over your six pack, following the ridges and dips with her tongue. She takes your waistband in her mouth. Slowly, she pulls down. You lift your hips, and then your pants are off. Heejin drags her cheek against your cock through your underwear, eyes closed.
"Your scent… is amazing." She licks the fabric along your length, where it bulges. "Mmm, this is what I'm talking about."
Your cockhead is poking out of your waistband. She kisses it, and then sucks on it through your underwear.
"Heejin, take it… off."
She stops, eyes wide. She pulls your waistband with her mouth, and you lift your hips again. She tugs it down, your cock sprinting out.
"Oh, wow," she says.
"W-what is it?"
"Your cock… is really, really gorgeous."
You gulp. "Thanks."
Heejin takes your cockhead in her mouth. You close your eyes. She swirls her tongue around the tip. She bobs down, lips wrapped around your shaft. Then, pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand.
"Is this… okay?" she asks.
"More than okay. Really, really, really okay."
"Good." She jerks you off, her spit easing the friction.
"Shit, Heejin."
"God, I love hearing you say my name."
She moves faster, your cock slick in her palm. She alternates between fast and slow. One second, she's going quick, and the next, her hand is barely moving, and your cock is twitching in her grasp. Her thumb strokes your underside.
"I… love teasing you," Heejin says. "I love making you beg for me to go faster."
"Please, go faster, then."
"You're so cute." She goes slower. You groan.
Heejin moves her grip to your balls, stroking your underside with her thumb again. Her other hand grabs the base of your cock. Her mouth returns, sucking on your balls. She's pumping up and down.
"Fuck, Heejin, please… go faster."
"Again."
You gulp. "Please, Heejin, go faster."
"Good boy."
Her hand speeds up. Your balls are getting sucked, her tongue licking around them, and her other hand is jerking, and it's like she's milking you. Your climax is imminent. You warn her.
"You're gonna make me cum."
Heejin pops off your balls and takes your cock out of her hand. She lowers her torso.
"I've been waiting so long for this," she says.
She swallows you.
Her tongue is slathering your shaft, and she's bobbing down, and her lips are tight around you. The tip of your cock bumps into the back of her throat. Her hand is caressing your balls. Her other hand is pumping the rest of your shaft. She comes up, taking a deep breath, and her eyes are watering. You wipe the tears away. She smiles, as if she's satisfied with having gagged on your shaft, as if she believes with her heart of hearts her own doctrine, and in such resolve of her mouth returning, you can't deny it.
Maybe her jaw hurts. Maybe her throat's dry. But you sense none of it. Deeper, you hit the back of her throat again, and her lips still curl up into a smile even through more tears. She's still pumping, and her other hand is pinching her nipples. Heejin moans. Her moan vibrates your cock, and her moan vibrates her throat, and her moan vibrates her tongue, like, holy shit, you've never felt anything better. And then…
"Heejin, I'm… cumming."
She stays down. You shoot. Her eyes widen. Another shot, and her eyes are closed. Another shot, and you're groaning, and her throat is swallowing. More shots. You're pumping Heejin full of your cum, and she's pumping you empty. Heejin, relentless, keeps sucking. You try and push her off, meteors dancing in your mind, but she won't budge. She stays down, her eyes still closed.
"Heejin, wait, wait, I'm so, so sensitive."
Heejin shakes her head. With her mouth still full, she says, "Wah, want… ahll."
You collapse. Heejin keeps sucking. Your cock is twitching in her mouth, and you try backing up in your mattress until you hit the headboard. You grip the sheets. You can't stop cumming. Every suck Heejin takes is another shot down her throat, each one joined by a satisfied "mm, mm", and swallowed without hesitation. You lose track of how many shots you pump into her. Even when you stop spurting semen into her mouth, and your orgasm is subsiding, Heejin stays down. She moves her lips from the base of your cock up to your tip, and she sticks her tongue out to cushion the underside of your shaft. You're shaking. You can't stop shaking.
"Heejin," you say—no, you gasp it; you croak it out; you despair for the name, "wait."
She does just that. Wait. With your cock in her lips like a popsicle, and she's waiting for you to melt. She breathes through her nose, humming to herself. You shudder. Your cock is still sensitive.
"Please… wait."
Heejin listens. She doesn't suck, and she doesn't bob. She waits. Your orgasm is over. Your mind is fading.
Pop.
She sucks the tip. Pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand again. Her tongue sticks out and licks up your shaft, where all the leftover cum and spit and saliva has gathered.
"Ahh." Her tongue is covered in white cream. A gulp. "Ahh." Her tongue is clean.
If you need a few more breaths, unfortunately you've used up all the air already, and you're just running on whatever other fumes now. "You… are insane," you say.
She giggles. "Was it that bad?"
"No, no, no, it was… the best. And the worst. A-are you gonna do that every time?"
"Do what?"
"Never mind."
Heejin crawls on top of your body. Your cock is nestled between her thighs. She lies on top of you.
"Did you like it?" she asks.
"Yes."
"Do you wanna… keep being fuckfriends with me? Suckbuddies? While I talked all the game about blowjobs, I wouldn't mind if you gave me a little oral service once in a while too." She says quietly, like she's felt bashfulness for the first time in her life, "And, I, um, am down to do more too. A little later. Or something."
"Of course. Yeah."
You wrap your arms around her.
"Good," Heejin says.
She kisses you. Your cum is on her lips, and she's sharing the taste with you. You taste yourself. It's nothing terrible, but she did gulp your load down without stopping, so, you can't fully empathize with her enthusiasm. Still, you reciprocate, savoring Heejin instead.
You hear cheering from outside the room.
"Think Jungeun won," Heejin says.
You snort. "Should we… go out? Pretend like nothing's changed?"
"I'm sure we'll figure something out."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You and Heejin end up deciding not to hide anything, but not telling the girls either. They'd find out sooner or later, and besides, you'd both want to brag about it, eventually.
After the three of them say their goodbyes and leave your house, you head straight to your bathroom. You thought Heejin's lips fully drained you dry, but apparently not, because you shoot more loads thinking of how her throat swallowed you.
You receive a text from her.
> miss you already ;)
You smile.
> Miss you too. can't wait for next time.
Heejin sends a photo. A strand of spit falls from her lips, down to her cleavage. Your heart skips a beat.
> neither can i <3
You save the photo.
Your phone buzzes again.
> don't jack off to it though
> Too late.
You send your fingers and shaft covered in cum.
She sends a photo again, of her frowning.
> wtf!! that was my load! i'm gonna kill you!!!
You laugh and send a text with your other hand. 
> Love you.
> lol yeah yeah whatever
You send another photo of your cock.
> another pic. As my apology
> wait.... didn't you say you just jerked off
> yeah?
> and you're still hard?
You gulp.
> guess so.
> you're such a stud. come over. i'll help you with that
You can't get dressed fast enough.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You meet halfway. A park, late at night. Fastest option, you're both too horny. You and Heejin are behind a building, some sort of community center, too late to be open or for the sun to shine down on the two of you being so daring outdoors.
Heejin's lips are on your neck, bound to leave marks, but you can't find yourself caring. Her hand is massaging your balls over your shorts, her other hand is down your underwear pumping your shaft, and her thigh is grinding against your cock. She kisses you.
You grab her jaw and pull her off you. "Um, I'm sorry. I, um, I think we might wanna establish some ground rules or something."
She stares at you, wide-eyed. "Ground rules? Like, safewords and stuff?"
"Uh, I guess, yeah. I just… I don't know, it'd make me feel more comfortable if, you know, we had some boundaries."
Heejin sighs. "Fine. Fair. Makes sense, I guess. I'm not a huge fan of… talking about feelings and stuff, but, I get it."
"Right, so, um, obviously, no feelings, and, I dunno, no dating?"
"Yep. You can see other girls. I'll see other dudes. Nothing serious."
"Sure. Yeah. Okay."
Heejin continues pumping your cock. "Anything… else?"
You gulp. "Safeword, I guess. And, like, is there anything you're… not okay with?"
"Um, not sure. Never thought about it."
"Okay, well, what's a word you hate?"
"Hmm… dick."
You blink.
Heejin giggles. "Just kidding. Um, I dunno, uh, penis? Cock? Uhh… sausage."
"Sausage?"
"Yeah. Sausage."
You pause. "And if, you know, I can't speak?"
"Tap three times on me or whatever. Three for sausage. Sounds good?"
"Yep. Three for sausage."
"Great. Anything else?"
"There was one thing in particular I was thinking about. So like, one time, I nutted seven times in a day."
Her mouth starts to water. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Heejin pumps faster. "That's… amazing."
"No, but that's the thing. I gotta set limits, Heejin. Even this, third time, it's, it's a lot. Too much."
She frowns. "What, so… no multiple nut sessions?"
"Once a week. Maybe."
"Fine, fine, okay. Once a week."
"Okay, cool. Ground rules established. Sausage as the safeword. No dating, seeing other people. Three times for sausage. One nut session a week."
"Got it." Heejin resumes pumping your shaft.
"Hey, Heejin, um, what do you want me to… do, when you're blowing me?  Anything you want? Because it feels like I'm just"—she gets on her knees—"kinda doing nothing and"—she pulls your shorts and underwear down—"you're doing"—she puts your cockhead in her mouth—everything, see!"
Pop. "Yeah. I dunno. Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself."
"Wait, Heejin, but, aren't we partners in crime, fuckbuddies, whatever, I wanna, like, make you feel good too."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Dickface." She jerks your shaft, and your knees buckle. You figure you might as well sit on the concrete floor, your back slumped on the brick wall. It's a makeshift position that you'll learn to get used to. She lowers her face to your crotch, then continues, "But don't worry. Feeling your cock cum is enough to make me feel good."
Heejin licks circles around your shaft, where the precum has gathered. Her hand is pumping the rest. Your cock is already twitching.
"Besides," she continues, "if you focus on me… we'd never get anywhere."
Pop.
She swallows you.
"Heejin, shit."
Her bobbing is relentless. She's pumping your shaft and massaging your balls, and she's deepthroating your shaft. Her spit is drenching your cock, and her lips are tight, and her tongue is slathering. Heejin's bobbing up and down, and your cockhead bumps into the back of her throat. Your balls clench. You shoot.
Pop.
Heejin takes your cockhead out of her mouth. Her hand is jerking, and the first shot hits her lips. The second, she opens her mouth to catch. The third, she closes her lips. The fourth, she catches in her mouth again. The fifth, she swipes up with her tongue. The sixth, she catches. The seventh, she misses, and your cum lands on her cheek. The eighth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her chin. The ninth, Heejin opens her mouth, and your cum falls right in. She gulps. The tenth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her neck. Heejin's pumping slows.
"That… was… amazing," you say.
Pop. "Yeah."
"Fuck. I'm just saying. Next time, I'm going to get a taste of your pussy." You open your mouth. "See, my mouth's watering just thinking about it."
"Yeah?" She jerks your shaft. Another shot lands on her neck. She wipes your cum and sticks her finger in your mouth. "You're adorable. But you're right. Next time."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
The two of you had ramyeon at a convenience store after, then said bye. Like friends. Just friends.
The next time is two days later, at night again. This time, you finally go to Heejin's apartment. You haven't been here in a long time, not since she moved in. It's cleaner than you remember.
"Make yourself at home," Heejin says.
You sit on her couch. She sits next to you. You kiss. Your hands are groping her breasts, and her hand is pumping your shaft. You lift her shirt, and her tits are freed from her bra. Her nipples are hard. You pinch them.
"Hey, wait, stop, stop," she says.
"Sausage?"
"N-no, I'm… fine, just, wait."
"What is it?"
"Um, so… I kinda… made a mess. Earlier."
"What… kind of mess?"
She giggles. "On my bed. You'll see."
Heejin leads you to her room.
"Holy shit," you say.
"Surprise?"
She's made a mess, alright. Sheets stained white, spots and splotches, streaks and trails, the whole nine yards. Your cock twitches, even if you're confused how one woman could make such a mess on her own.
"I was, um, thinking about sucking your cock all day yesterday. I didn't wanna touch myself, but I couldn't help it."
"I'm glad."
Heejin lies on her bed, pulling her shorts and underwear off. Her pussy is glistening. She spreads her legs.
"Come. Lick it."
"I've been waiting for this." You crawl on top of Heejin's body and put your face between her legs. You lick circles around her slit. You lick up and down her folds. "I don't exactly have toys to practice on like you... so I'm gonna need to do plenty of catching up."
"Don't worry. Practice away."
You lick circles again, and Heejin's quiet. You lick up and down, and she's quiet. You flick her clit, and Heejin's quiet. Your tongue is slathering her slit, and she's quiet.
"Wait, Heejin, is… everything okay?"
"Yeah. It's fine."
"What is it? Is my tongue rough or something?"
She looks at you. "Oh, no, no, not at all! No, it's, um, your technique's, uh, kinda lacking."
"Ah. Yeah, see."
"Here, I'll show you."
Heejin sits up and pushes you down. She's straddling your face.
"First," she says, "spread my… my lips. Like this."
She spreads her labia.
"Then, you wanna, kinda, stick your tongue inside, like, deep."
Heejin uses her finger to spread herself wider. You stick your tongue inside her hole.
"Now… use your thumb to, like, rub my clit, and move your tongue around. Like, you're, um, writing, something, with your tongue, I guess. Inside me. Like, a, um, circle. Shit, I dunno."
You rub her clit. Heejin moans. You lick circles inside her hole.
"And, uh, yeah, that's… about it. Oh, and, move your, your finger and thumb. Not at the same time. And I'll grab your hair and move you around and I guess just tell you what to do. And then you can figure it out after that, right?"
"Yeah. Got it."
Heejin lies back down. You spread her lips. You stick your tongue inside her hole. You rub her clit. You lick circles inside her hole.
"A little lower. And, and, like, lick, not circles, but, a, like, a line. But not a straight line. An, um, I dunno, a diagonal one. But not a diagonal one. A, uh, a curve, but not a curve. Um."
You lick lower. You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve.
"There. Yeah. That's… good. Keep going."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve. Heejin moans. Your tongue is still licking, and she moans, and her hand is on top of your head.
"Use your, your thumb, and, and, like, stick your index finger inside. Like, curl your finger and, and, find my, my, um, g-spot."
You rub her clit. You stick your index finger inside. You curl your finger. Heejin moans. Your tongue is licking diagonally, but not a diagonal. Your index finger is curling, searching, and you find her g-spot, a soft patch inside her walls. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Heejin moans again.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your middle finger inside.
"Curve both, both your, your fingers. Both fingers."
You curl both your fingers.
"And, and, like, twist. But not twist. Rotate. But not rotate. Uh, fuck, um, shit, I dunno, uh, fuck, whatever, just, um, fuck, uh, wait."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You curl both fingers. You rotate, but not rotate. While you're going through advanced mathematics under a tutor under a slightly lust-drunk stupor, you're starting to understand both sides more. On the one hand, your mouth is indeed going dry, and your jaw is starting to hurt. On the other hand, you're drooling. Whatever taste Heejin's pussy has is starting to get really addicting, enough for your cock to stay hard the entire time, enough for you to ignore the fatigue.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your ring finger inside, which immediately earns a moan from Heejin. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Your fingers are curled, rotated, twisted, whatever. Heejin moans again. You're rubbing her clit.
"Fuck, more, more. Rub my, my, rub my clit faster. Fuck, lick faster."
You speed up. You curl your fingers. You rotate them. You twist them. Heejin moans again. Her hand is tight on top of your head. Her body is trembling. You move your free hand and press it onto her stomach to keep her still. Your three fingers are thrusting in and out of Heejin's pussy, and her hips are buckling. Her walls are clenching. She moans, a final time.
Heejin lets go. You lick. Your fingers are thrusting. Your thumb is rubbing her clit. Heejin shudders. More gushes of cum coat your tongue and fingers. She's going to drown you. You understand how she made that mess. Your three fingers are pistoning in and out of Heejin's pussy as her climax subsides. More gushes. More. Less. Some.
"Wait," she says. "Hold… hold it. My spot."
You stop rotating, twisting, and whatever-ing. Her walls are fluttering. Your three fingers are still. Her girl cum is trickling out of her hole.
You take your face off Heejin's crotch.
"Holy… fucking shit," she says.
"Wild ride?"
"That was… amazing."
You flex your fingers. "Yeah. Didn't know you could squirt like that."
"Neither did… I."
Heejin props herself up. You stick your three cum-soaked fingers in her mouth. She sucks. She moans. You stick them deeper down her throat, and her lips are wrapping. Her eyes are closing.
"Thanks for… teaching me," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Of course."
Your three fingers return to her pussy. You pump, and her girl cum is slicking your fingers. Heejin lies back down. Your three fingers are pistoning again. She moans.
"Wait, wait, sausage, sausage!"
You stop. "Shit, sorry."
"It's fine, it's fine. Just, sensitive."
"Got it."
Heejin giggles. "Sorry. Sometimes… I squirt a lot. Um. Overstimulated."
"Well, at least you know how I feel."
"Wait, was that a sausage moment, because I feel so bad and—"
You interrupt Heejin with a kiss. "No, it's fine. In fact, it was really fucking hot, and besides, I already told you about how much I can cum. Oh yeah, by the way—" another kiss, because there is no such thing as too many with Heejin "—I kinda wanna see the toys you were talking about."
"Really?"
"Yeah. If that's… cool."
She smiles. "Sure. Lemme, lemme clean up first."
"Alright."
Heejin cleans her bed with tissues, and you help her wipe up. Then, you head to her closet. She opens it, and… holy shit. There's an assortment of vibrators and dildos and g-spot stimulators and other contraptions and tools, almost an entire shelf dedicated to sex toys.
"This is… incredible," you say.
"Hey, um, by the way, could you, um, close your eyes?" she asks. "I, um, dunno, it'd… feel less embarrassing."
"Sure."
You close your eyes.
"And, like, turn around."
You turn around.
"Okay, okay, so, um, these ones"—you hear plastic tapping against plastic—"are just the vibrators. These ones"—plastic tapping again—"are the dildos. And then… um, these ones are for g-spots, and, and then there's more for anal, and then… um, I dunno, basically, um, the rest is stuff I've gotten on impulse because it looked fun."
You snort. "Impulse, huh?"
"Shut up. Um… open your eyes."
You turn back around. Heejin's holding a Hitachi wand.
"Okay, so, like, this, this is probably my favorite. Wand. Magic wand. And then"—she puts it back and holds a simple, white vibrator—"this is the, um, the next one." She puts it back and holds a curved, purple toy—"then this. Um… this is, this is the biggest"—she puts it back and holds a monster of a dildo—"um, and then, this is the smallest." She points to a cute, pink bullet vibe.
So many questions flood your mind, but the only thing you can blurt out is, "Impulse purchases, huh?"
Heejin shoves you. "Shut up! Um… and then, this"—black anal beads—"and, um, this"—clear, pink butt plug—"are for anal. Obviously. And then, um, basically, I've, um, experimented. A lot."
"Experimented, huh?"
She shoves you again. "Stop… saying huh!"
You wrap Heejin in a hug. "I'll say huh as much as I want."
"Whatever. Um… anything you wanna… try?"
You gulp. "C-could I watch you use them?"
Heejin steps away. "Wait, really?"
"Yeah. I mean, if you're comfortable. Like, right now. Or something."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
Heejin sighs. "You… absolute pervert."
"You're the one with"—you point to her shelf—"all that."
"Fine, fine. Um, sure. Which… do you wanna see me use?"
You gulp again. "So, um. You said you practiced sucking dick on one of them right? Imagined it was me?"
She rubs her thighs together. "Y-yeah."
"Which… was it?"
Heejin reaches for one. She holds a flesh-colored dildo, about the length and girth of your own cock.
"This one," she says.
"Then, that one, please."
She nods. "Okay… sit on the bed. Get comfy."
Heejin puts the dildo on her bed and closes the closet door. She undresses completely, tossing her clothes to the side. Your cock is tenting. She returns, picks the dildo, and then she lies on her bed next to you.
"So… you, you just wanna watch me use this? Suck on it and stuff?"
You nod. "Yeah. Please."
Heejin bends her legs and spreads her thighs. Your cock twitches. Her free hand rubs her slit. She's spreading her lips.
"Shit, Heejin, you're so hot."
"Thanks… pervert."
She sticks the dildo inside her hole, and you love watching how her pussy stretches for it. Especially knowing your cock will be doing the same soon. That image makes you harder, enough for you to pull down your pants and start jerking.
"Heejin, would, would you… talk? Your voice is so pretty."
Heejin blushes. "Thank you. What do you want me to say?"
"Just, like, anything. Tell me… what you're imagining. What you're feeling.. Your fantasies."
Heejin gulps. "Um, o-okay."
Her free hand is rubbing circles around her clit. The dildo is slowly pumping in and out of her hole.
"Sometimes, um," she starts, "sometimes I imagine… it's you. Inside me. Your cock. And, um, usually, we're, we're doing missionary, and, um, your hands are on my tits. Pinching my nipples. Wait, come here. Pinch my nipples."
You follow her command, sitting closer to her so you can grab a nipple with one hand while your other jerks faster. Heejin moans. You jerk faster.
"Oh, god, mmm. If I could keep your gorgeous fucking dick in my mouth all day I would. I'd suck it every second. God, I'd, I'd wake up to it. I'd go to sleep sucking on it. Hnnh. Your hands… are making me feel really good. Or we could cuddle and watch a movie, and the whole time you'd be... fuck, you'd be slowly sliding your cock in and out of my asshole. Mmnh. God, and, maybe we'd have friends over, and you'd fuck me from behind, and no one would know. Shit, especially when we're at Yerim's, you could take me to her really nice bathroom and rail me in her really nice shower. Mmm."
The dildo speeds up, and her clit rubbing is speeding up. Your jerking is speeding up too.
"Or we'd go out to eat, and, fuck, you'd finger me under the table, and then, and then you'd order dessert, and instead of eating the real thing, you'd feed me your cock, and I'd cream myself. God, shit, your hands. Mmfh. Or, or, sometimes I imagine, we're on the couch, and Jungeun and Jinsol and Haseul are hanging out, and they're just chatting away, and I'm sucking your dick, or you're fingering me, or I'm warming your cock in my pussy, and no one would know. Shit. Or they do know, and they pretend like I'm not even there on my knees sucking you off. Fuck."
You're about to cum. "Shit, Heejin, keep going, I'm so, so, so, so close."
"Nngh. And I'd even—wait, d-don't waste that cum yet." She takes the dildo out and moves closer to you. "Feed me. Put it in my mouth."
You do. Heejin's jerking the rest of your shaft, and your tip is in her lips, and she's pumping, and her spit is slathering. You groan, and she moans, and a shot fires into her throat. Her jerking doesn't stop. Another shot, and your mind is fading. Another.
Pop. She's gasping for air, trying not to spill the load as she speaks. "Ahh, waih, feed me, hah, some cum, wifh your hand."
You take your cock out of her mouth, masturbating some cum onto your palm. Once your climax eventually subsides, you offer your hand to Heejin, and she makes eye contact as she slurps up your seed and licks every joint of your fingers.
After she has every drop she can get in her mouth, she looks up, gargles, and then gulps. "Thank you for the meal."
You sigh. "Jesus, you're crazy."
"Only for you."
You kiss. "I'm honored."
"Um, by the way, can I finish?"
"Yeah, of course."
Heejin lies back down and picks the dildo. Her free hand is rubbing her clit again, and the dildo is pumping in and out of her hole.
"Hold on," you say. "Could I… use the wand on you?"
She stops. "Really?"
"Yeah. Unless it's sausage time."
Heejin giggles. "No, no, it's fine, just, um, lemme… get comfy again." She gets on all fours, and you move to a squat, holding the wand in one hand and the dildo in the other. "And, um, don't turn it on the highest setting. Not yet."
"Got it."
You stick the dildo inside Heejin's pussy and move the wand to her clit. You turn the wand on, and the sound of buzzing fills her room, followed by a moan from Heejin.
"Tell me more fantasies," you say.
She tries her best to give you everything she's thinking about, from bending her over the kitchen counter to tying her up and edging her, from fucking her mouth blindfolded to having a whole day where you fuck her whenever you want, free-use style. You're glad that she trusts you enough to share her kinks. You're looking forward to experiencing them someday.
Her dirty talking devolves into incomprehensible moans, and her doggystyle position is faltering, her face in the mattress. You stick the dildo deeper, and you turn the wand to a higher setting. She screams.
"Shit, sausage, sausage!"
You immediately stop everything. Heejin's trembling.
"Oh, god," she says.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. Just, too much."
"Fuck, I'm so sorry."
"No, no, it's fine, just, sensitive. But you owe me."
"What do you mean?"
"Turn the wand off and give me the dildo. I'm going to cum with your cock in my mouth because that's where it belongs."
You comply, handing her the dildo and turning the wand off. Then, Heejin lies back down on the bed. You're uncertain about where to go, until she grabs your ass, pulling you to mount on top of her chest.
"There we go."
You look back and see Heejin starting to dildo-fuck herself again, and before you can look at Heejin's face again, she's already captured your cockhead in her lips.
"Oh, fuck," you say.
She moans. You jerk off the rest of your shaft, and she's moaning hungrily around you. Heejin's free hand massages your balls, and she pistons the dildo at a hearty pace, a loud, sloppy pace. As if she were imitating what your cock would sound like, if it were pounding her hole. Having painted a million pictures in your mind, and having heard her talk about so many fantasies, your mind can't help but fill in the blanks. The biggest blank is her throat.
"Heejin," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Yeah?"
"Could I… choke you with my cock?"
She giggles. "Go for it, stud. Shoot it straight down. I don't care. It'll make me cum harder. I wanna feel my throat bruise."
You gulp. "A-are you sure?"
"Mmm. Totally. I'm gonna keep fucking myself and sucking you off and if I tap three times on you, then it's sausage time, and you stop choking me. Deal?"
"Deal."
Heejin takes your cockhead back in her mouth and moans. Her free hand goes back to your balls, and you place both your hands on the sides of her head. Slowly, carefully, you force her lips to travel past your tip, and to reach halfway down your shaft. Her cheeks are concave and your palms can feel her slobbering. Once she reaches your base, her eyes are watering. She looks up at you, her dildo fucking faster, her lips tight. You pull on Heejin's hair to move her head up. She moans. Her whole body is trembling again. You slam her head back down.
"Heejin, I'm"—she moans—"about to"—she gags, a broken vibration around your cock, and she moans—"cum!"
Her gagging, however, only urges you more to fuck her throat with your cock. Heejin gags again, and her throat walls are clenching, and a whole bunch of spit comes out, drenching your balls. The last thing you feel before your mind fades is her final whine, lost to the whole of her universe. Your spasms return, your hips shake, and this time, you see her whole body tense up—finally you and Heejin cum together, with her dildo ramming her hole and your cock ramming her throat. She's squealing and squeaking while taking your cock down to her base again, her gagging more persistent. After all her fantasies, the real thing is so much hotter than your imagination, and your brain starts painting new pictures on instinct.
Pop.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit," she says.
Your cock twitches out spurts of your seed, coating her face. Her dildo has disappeared from her pussy.
"I'm, I'm sorry, about, um, being… a bit too rough," you say.
"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks. "Do you have, do you have any idea how fucking hard I came? God, and the cum you're firing in my throat, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your cum is what gives life purpose."
You grin. "I'm glad you think that way. My cum was only alive because of your pretty little mouth, though."
Heejin licks up every streak and spurt.
You lie back down on her bed next to her. "Hey, uh, you… still owe me though."
"True," she says. "What do you want? Another oral service tomorrow?"
"Can't tomorrow. It's already one in the morning."
"Ah, fuck. Morning."
"It's fine." Your voice is meek. "Let's not do anything. For a while."
"What?"
"This is fun. And I'm sure we could come up with a million ways to jerk each other off with our hands and mouths and words. But, you were thinking it too, right? When you had that, that dildo inside of you. Fucking you. I mean, I don't, I really don't wanna pressure you, but I thought it'd be fun. You know. If we just held off of anything, sex, cumming, masturbating, all of that, and we just… wait. How about until your birthday?"
"What?! That's like, twenty days away."
"Exactly, once in a while we could do other stuff. Wouldn't it be fun to just get edged every day until then, waiting, anticipating, and when we finally do fuck, it'll be the best sex of our lives, the perfect present. I mean, you got yourself off plenty of times already. I bet you could go without a nut for a while."
"Oh, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"And vice versa, I guess."
Heejin grumbles. "Fuck. Fine. Deal. But no matter how much I tempt you, no matter how much you tempt me, we're not going to cum. We're gonna edge each other. No matter how hard I suck. No matter how hard you thrust."
"Deal."
You shake hands.
"Um, by the way," she says.
"What?"
"You, um, you're a pervert."
You sigh. "I know."
"But you're, um, you're a pretty nice guy. And smart. And hot. Okay, that's enough for your ego, goddammit."
"Keep going, you're gonna make me cum."
Heejin grins. "Oh, that's all it'll take, huh?"
You kiss.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You wake up on Saturday morning, having stayed the night at Heejin's place. The two of you have a breakfast of leftover ramyun, and you say goodbye at the door.
"Wait," she says. "Hold on. I forgot something."
You turn around. "What?"
Heejin kisses you. "Bye."
You return the kiss. "Bye."
You go home, and on Sunday, you wake up to a text from Heejin.
> morning. :)
You smile.
> Good morning.
You send her a picture of your cock, already hard in the morning. She sends a photo of her own pussy, spread open with her fingers. It's scintillating, dewy. Your cock twitches.
> morning wood?
> Yep.
> you know how bad i wanna suck that dick right now
> Yeah. I'm thinking about fucking your throat.
> godddddddd i love it when you say that shit
> Do you think you're gonna nut today?
> probably not. if i can't even last a weekend without cumming, i srsly need to reexamine my life
> lol. true. well, good luck.
> you too
You send a photo of your cock, with a drop of cum at your tip. It only took a token effort of stimulation to get a bead of pre-cum.
> wait were you fapping just now
> Yeah. Just a bit
> godddddd youre so bad
> Don't worry. I don't plan on cumming until it's inside you on your birthday :)
> fuck you
> I thought we were gonna save that for your birthday too :(
> shut up
You smile. 
> I miss you.
> me too
> Next week. We can meet up. See how we're feeling about this whole thing. Maybe get dinner or something.
> like a date?
> Well, no dating. Obviously. Ground rules and all.
> "k fine. sounds good
> See you then <3
> yeah yeah whatever <3
You laugh. This is going to be fun.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Happy birthday to the best girl! Once again, this falls under my time-honored tradition of incomplete-but-complete-enough stories to post for some deadline, so I'm not bothering with crossposting (okay fine I am just too lazy).
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Sup, can i ask for a request headcanons for Idia with an S/O who's similar to Meg from Hercules? Basically free-spirited, independent, quick-witted, and snarky, who would do everything for her lovely boyfriend even going as far as to protect him from any bullies and such.
Idia Shroud:
You are mildly intimidating to him. While your personality is one he finds attractive, he still can’t help but pause when he thinks about talking to you or interacting in any way that might have your full attention on him. He has seen the carnage from your snark, the way you could make even the most confident man crumble if they proved themselves a fool, and he doesn’t want Ortho to have to scoop up his remains if he failed his charisma check.
Now after you’re together is a different story. He’s still in awe of your quick-witted abilities but even moreso when it’s used to protect him. He won’t claim he needed the protecting, or that most people even bothered him as he knew he was far smarter than they could ever dream of being, but it was satisfying to see them get humbled so quickly. It does stress him out when it draws even more attention to the conversation, especially if it escalates beyond a few snarky remarks tossed back and forth, and he’s quick to pull you away before things go too far.
Whenever he thinks about you he feels like he’s head over heels, even after dating for a day. It’s like working through all the side routes in an otome game to finally reach the main love interest, the true end, the place the story had been leading to all along. He had waited for you for a long time, and gone through many heart-wrenching moments, but it finally felt like his life was coming together exactly the way it should.
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jgracie · 2 months
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I WANT IT ALL
masterlist | rules
❝ hellooo !! i absolutely in love with your works !! may i request percy with the song “i want it” all by lana del rey, specially this part of the lyrics:“do you think you'll kill for me one day?" / “yes of course I will, my darling” ? perhaps a mention of dark percy ? 😋 ❞ — 🦇
in which percy would kill for you one day
pairing slightly dark!percy jackson x reader
warnings house of hades spoilers? that’s when this is set, violence (percy bloodbends)
on the radio . . . i want it all (lana del rey)
After experiencing Tartarus together, you couldn’t help but notice how Percy changed. He used to always be able to crack a joke, even at the worst of situations, lightening the mood and raising your spirits. However, now he’s more… serious. Tartarus seemed to harden him up - his eyes, once a bright aquamarine colour, were now of a dark blue-green hue, like the depths of the ocean that even Poseidon wouldn’t venture
You still loved him with all of your heart. He was your precious boyfriend, after all. And besides, you probably changed a lot too after that. Anyone would if they were forced to hallucinate their boyfriend abandoning them like you did. The image the Arai had planted in your head that day, a curse sent your way by a girl you didn’t even know, haunted you. You never wanted to feel that alone and isolated again
Percy knew this. It was part of the reason why he became more protective, more territorial. Watching you wander Tartarus aimlessly, your voice cracking as you begged for his touch and being able to do nothing about it shattered his heart. After that experience, he vowed to never let you out of his sight 
The other members of the Argo II could tell that something had changed between you, too. However, they kept a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in case they made it worse, unable to even fathom what you must’ve gone through in Tartarus
For the most part, though, your relationship was good. Other than the nightmares and protectiveness, the two of you stayed the same iconic couple you are, and as time progressed, Percy felt himself becoming more relaxed, no longer needing to be by your side every second of every day
That was until the ship got attacked. You’d been having a couple days of pretty safe travel ever since you got out of Tartarus, and while you did enjoy simply being able to catch up with all your friends on a boat in the ocean, you should’ve known that something would come along to ruin this for you
It was early in the morning, and you were on watch duty along with Leo, who was manning the ship whilst adding some updates to Festus. The salty air made you think of Percy, and you found yourself suddenly longing for his touch, knowing how much he’d enjoy watching the sun rise over the horizon
“You can go get Percy if you want, Y/N, I’ll be fine here,” Leo mumbled. For someone who claims he’s better at understanding machines than people, he sure was good at reading your mind. Recently, you noticed he’d also been acting differently. According to Hazel, he found a girl he loved (NOT calypso guys don’t worry 🩷) while he’d gone missing, but for some reason he couldn’t bring her with him
You thanked him and were about to make your way to your boyfriend’s room when you suddenly heard a voice yell, “I will take revenge on you, wretched son of Poseidon!” You turned, finding yourself face-to-face with none other than the bane of Poseidon, Polybotes
“You think you can just leave Tartarus as you please? I, Polybotes, will make you pay!” The giant continued. Your feet seemed to be cemented to the ground as you stared at the giant, mouth open in a mix of shock and fear. He was supposed to be in Tartarus, how could he possibly get here? Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace. Why were you stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, you could relax until actually having to fight Gaia herself? 
“Y/N, look out!” Leo yelled, pulling you out of your trance. But it was too late. The giant picked you up, his nails digging into your back, forming crescent shaped gashes. Your nose scrunched at the smell of him as he took a good look at you before laughing (his breath smelled even worse. You had to fight the urge to vomit all over him)
Tears welled up in your eyes. You were completely helpless, with no weapon on you and your limbs still aching from your time in Tartarus. This was it. This is how you’d die. The giant was squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe, black spots beginning to obscure your vision. You sent a quick prayer to your godly parent, asking them to keep your friends safe on the rest of this quest, before you succumbed to the darkness
The last thing you remember seeing is a flash of bright blue - the ocean
“Thank Gods you’re awake! We’re all so worried about you!” Hazel exclaimed as soon as your eyes were open. Looking around, you noticed you were in the makeshift infirmary section of the ship, bruises littering your body
You turned to face Hazel, your eyebrows furrowed, “what… happened?” You asked, trying to push your memories of the incident with Polybotes to the front of your mind, but ending up with nothing, “I remember I was captured by that giant, then I saw the water move, then… nothing.”
Hazel was suddenly incapable of holding eye contact with you, unsure if she should tell you what happened or not. In the end, she decided on the former, knowing you’d pull it out of Percy eventually if you had to
“The water moving was Percy’s doing. We all showed up after hearing the commotion and when he saw you in Polybotes’ clutches he went… kind of crazy. I’d never seen him like this before, Y/N, it was a little scary. He willed the water to move him up to Polybotes’ height and demanded he let you go. When he didn’t…” Hazel stopped for a second, shuddering. What did Percy do? After seeing the way he handled Akhlys in Tartarus, you knew there was a side of him that he kept buried deep inside. Did it come out again?
You placed a gentle hand on Hazel’s, giving her a kind smile which willed her to continue, “he started controlling Polybotes’ blood… he made him choke on his own blood, Y/N, we’ve been spending the past five hours cleaning that up.”
At the sound of voices coming out of the infirmary, Percy barged in, nodding at Hazel before holding you tightly in his arms. You hugged back, glad to see that he was okay. Smiling at both of you, Hazel waved goodbye and left, knowing you two needed a moment alone
“Hazel told me what happened,” you said once Percy pulled away, still keeping your hand in his. At this, he looked at the ground in shame, remembering how much his treatment of Akhlys had scared you in Tartarus
Rubbing circles into your hand, he said, “I’m sorry, Y/N, my fear and anger got the better of me. I don’t ever want to lose you, you’re literally my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. Feeling your face become warmer as a bright smile made its way onto your lips, you said, “it’s alright, Percy. Thank you for saving me. I genuinely thought I was going to die then.” At this, Percy’s brows furrowed and the grip he had on your hand tightened
An aura of power exuded from your boyfriend, and when he said, “you wouldn’t die, not with me here. I’d kill for you, baby, you understand that, right?” You knew he meant it. If giants didn’t have to be defeated by both Gods and demigods working together, Polybotes would definitely be a mere pile of dust in Tartarus right now
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2-dsimp · 2 months
Note
if it’s no trouble could we get another part to DILF/ nanny reader? Maybe like a willing reader? Bc I know of a hot dad wanted to date me who am I to say no? Lol great work!!!!
Cw: fem reader! jealousy, possessive/obsessive tendencies, Quio and Miki butting heads, the plot thickens
Synopsis no.2: 【featuring you being caught in the middle between your coworker and employer literally and figuratively. Miki obviously hates your employer and makes it well known meanwhile Quio does the same vice versa. The Dilf tried his best to put his and Peina’s plan of seducing you into action. But he’s constantly getting interrupted. And He’s honestly so close to snapping at this point.】
☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:
“I wish you’d stop by here more often after all you’re already part of the family."
The Dilf sighs melodramatically, electing a small giggle from your lips. Seeing how he acted so distraught due to your absence. While he led you and your coworker to the living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch.
“Oh that’s kind of you to say Mr. Evinis but I can’t possibly impose on you guys. Plus I’ve still gotta work my boring office job”
You replied with a mirthful tone at his sweet comment truly feeling as if you’ve made a second home within your employers household. You’ve already grown accustomed to his friendly work staff and of course his darling daughter who was l always clinging onto you like a baby kitten. And the fact that her father was so chivalrous and kind didn’t help your own little crush from forming on the single dad.
“Oh perish the thought sugarling~ we’re lucky enough to even be blessed by your radiant grace. In this boring household.”
Quio reassures with a charming smile, as he makes sure to fluff up some fancy decor pillows for his lovely lady. After placing the plush pillows down where you’d sit, He then put a hand on your shoulder giving a comforting squeeze.
“In fact me and the little squirt have always gotten excited at seeing you pull up and we’d be more than happy to keep you hostage here if possible”
The Dilf admits in a cheesy manner, which made you feel at ease. From how sweet his insistence at you dropping by often to hang out was. Being none the wiser to how he was being 100% serious. About the part where him and his daughter briefly molled over the idea of keeping their lovely nanny hostage at their mansion. Since they honestly couldn’t get enough of how addicting your sunshine liken presence.
Lit up every dark lonesome corner of the estate and they’d be damned if they every let you get a chance to escape from their sights. brandishes a pearly grin at the thought of being able to cater personally to his future missus.
“Also if your boring office job is what’s holding you back from spending quality time with us then I can think of a couple solutions to—“
“Um, let me stop you right there man. Whatever you’re pitching would be nice and all but I need my work wife.”
Once again you missed the small micro transgression within the Dilf’s facial features as his eye twitched at the irksome interruption done by that worthless dickbag.
“Aha work wife? With someone like you? I see you’re the type to joke around huh?”
He replied in an tone of condescension giving Miki a mean spirited smile. And an idle glance over full of scorn at the self assured confidence in this boy, who was proclaiming that his darling was his work wife.
“Well I am quite the jokester—wait what the hell do you mean by someone like me??”
You nearly busted out laughing at how Miki got a miffed expression on his face from the subtle dig done by the famous actor. You didn’t necessarily claim to be Miki’s work wife as nice as his company was. He was an utter shitty coworker to have when you’re trying to get shit done. Whenever you two were paired it’d be him cracking jokes while you were working like an effective machine.
“Well If anything they’re my work wife, no my wife, since yknow she’s looking after my kid like the little darling angel she is”
Quio nearly purred with a sharp edge to his voice as he blatantly rubbed it in Miki’s face the sheer difference. Between the two of them and how he was ultimately more important in your standings.
“Anit that right sweetness?”
The single dad hummed with a sickening sweet expression that resembled a hopeful doe eyed buck. His shouldering eyes never failed to make your heart do kick flips from how they always seemed to focus on purely you. Almost as if you were his world, his missing half. You got extremely flustered that you could barely even respond to his words. Until Miki let out a sneer and fixed his apparent love rival a shrewd scowl.
“Oh please as if! She’s your Nanny, not your substitute wife. Plus I already called dibs on her first, my guy.”
The sight of that damned flea mansplaining on the couch with the slinging over his arm right behind your head. Made Quio imagine ripping that same offending arm from our his socket and bitch slapping him with it.
“Dibs? Are you insinuating that she’s an object to be possessed by the likes of a peasant like you?”
He taunts snarkily, dropping his nice guy facade as makes his way to sit right in between you and Miki. Squeezing his bulky frame in the middle of the couch he gracefully crosses his legs as he swats off the offending arm behind your head and replaces it with his own.
“Tch! Now you know that’s not what I meant. It’s always you actors spinning fabricated lies. And the fuck did you just—“
“Miki don’t you think that it’s time for you to go soon? You’re gonna be late for work”
You interjected seeing how things were getting out of hand between the two offending men. Quio merely gave a smug smile as he saw Miki begrudgingly get up with an scowl on his face. You were right he had to go soon since he couldn’t be late for his promotion into higher management. He didn’t tell you that yet because he wanted to surprise you on the day you both worked the same shift.
“Ah fuck your right, thanks for the reminder what would I do without my precious work wife?”
Miki emphasized loudly, Shooting a glare towards the A-listed actor as he then gave you an abrupt hug goodbye whilst still glowering at the Dilf. The two seemed to be exchanging a clash of mixed silent threats behind your back.
Quio “gently” nudged Miki away from his darling with a hard shove with the pointy tip of his shoe upon his midriff. Making your coworker stumble back with a sharp exhaled grunt escaping his lips. Good, he hoped that fucker gets sore down there. The single dad was always about getting his get back by being petty whenever someone blatantly tried to piss him off.
“Alright that’s enough Casanova wouldn’t wanna keep your bosses waiting yeah?”
The Dilf chirped in a sweet noncommittal manner as he briefly pulled you into a side hug. As if to cleanse you from the poor touch Miki had given you. Miki had to bite back his tongue since he really couldn’t afford to waste time with the man’s shenanigans. And rolled his eyes he could only afford to shoot you a word of warning with concern shining in his eyes before he made his way outside of the million dollar manor.
“Be careful… You know how actors are, always so full of shit. Call me when you’re done I’ll come to pick you up okay?”
“Yeah yeah, don’t let the door hit cha on ya on the way out Miki”
Quio sassed as he couldn’t wait to have that cocky fucker out of sight and out of mind. There were so many times where the actor came close to acting out. One of his many aspiring roles which consisted of him being a deranged serial killer. It would’ve gave him peace of mind to choke out that lanky shithead and watch the life leave his eyes.
But he had better things to do at the moment rather than drone in about how he’d murder Miki in cold blood. Like wooing you over for instance which was unfortunately put on pause due to a pest intent on getting in the way between you and him. So he feels a sense of relief wash over him as Miki leaves, knowing that he can finally have you all to himself.
“It seems like you two get along well enough already”
You caught the Dilf off guard with your off handed comment as he gave you a raised brow and an apprehensive smile. He shook his head slightly and gave a dark chuckle at how naive you were to perceive their little spat to be that of a friendly origin. When they clearly wanted to go at each others necks.
“It would seem so… But hey I was wondering if you’d be interested in—“
His phone decided to go off in the most headache inducing way. He could hear the annoying ringtone which indicated that his manager was calling and he bit back a snarl from being interrupted once again. Collecting himself he excused himself from the couch not being fore taking your hand in his and giving it a small chaste kiss as he gave you an apologetic gaze.
“Sorry about this sugarling I’ve gotta take this call I’ll be right back”
With his servants taking leave at his behest today was the day he planned on tying the metaphorical knot with the cute Nanny that stole both his and his little girl’s heart. So his manager had better got a pretty damn good reason for bugging him on his day of vacation leave. Or else they’ll get added to the hitlist alongside that damned coworker of yours.
I’m thinking of making this into a mini series, let me know if I should continue!o(≧v≦)o
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I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)
Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.
Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift
Part 1
CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.
Word Count: 10,085
The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.
Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?
Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.
I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.
Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused. 
In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.
Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.
The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.
In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.
As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.
Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."
I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."
Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"
I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.
I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."
As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.
"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.
Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.
She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."
Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.
Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."
I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.
She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."
As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.
The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.
"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."
Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.
Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.
In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.
One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.
“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”
The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."
Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.
As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.
Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.
The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.
I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.
With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.
"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.
I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.
His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.
I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.
The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.
"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.
His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.
The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.
Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.
The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.
The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.
"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.
Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.
The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.
"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.
Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.
The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.
"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.
Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.
The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.
“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.
I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.
"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.
"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.
Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"
"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.
"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.
I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.
Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.
The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.
I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.
My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.
"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.
I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.
Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.
Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.
Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.
"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.
The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.
My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.
As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.
I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.
A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.
Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?
My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.
I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.
But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?
I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.
With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.
A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.
I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.
The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.
Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.
The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.
One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.
Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.
My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.
The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.
As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.
The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.
I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.
As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities. 
Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.
The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.
A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.
And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.
One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.
My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.
Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.
Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.
A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.
My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?
The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.
As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.
"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."
A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.
"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."
He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."
I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.
He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"
I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.
Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"
I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."
A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"
I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."
Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"
My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."
His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.
"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.
Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.
I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."
He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"
A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.
Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."
I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."
Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."
My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.
A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.
I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.
I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.
Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.
My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?
As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.
It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.
But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.
I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.
As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.
"Objection, Your Honor!"
I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."
The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."
Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.
"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."
The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.
"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."
I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.
But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.
"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."
The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.
"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.
The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."
As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.
And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served. 
Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.
"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."
I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."
"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.
As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side. 
"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.
"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.
As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.
"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.
“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.
"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"
I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."
"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"
"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."
"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."
"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.
Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."
"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me. 
"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."
We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.
As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.
"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."
I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.
"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."
I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.
"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.
Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.
After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.
As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream. 
My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."
Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.
"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."
The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?
"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.
Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.
"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.
And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.
"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”
We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.
"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.
"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.
"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.
Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.
"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.
"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."
My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.
"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.
The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing. 
"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."
As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.
He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.
"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."
His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.
"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."
With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.
Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.
The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.
My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.
I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.
As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.
His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.
"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.
He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.
I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me. 
His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.
He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.
"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.
I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.
"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.
The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.
"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!
"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."
He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."
I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.
It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.
I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.
He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.
The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.
"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."
"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."
He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.
We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.
"Wow," I finally managed to say.
We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.
Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.
"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.
He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.
I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.
A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is." 
As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.
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orcusnoir · 7 months
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"You know what I hate?" The Champion asked to no one in particular as he watched over the slow boiling pot of stew.
"Uh... Not having enough spices?" The Captain asked from his seat at the table.
Wild gave a nod. "Not what I was going for, but yes."
"Then what do you hate, Champ?" Wars asked while glancing over to the Vet. Legend was currently trying to stack his fork and knife on top of each other to no avail.
"How do I put this?" Wild tapped his chin in thought.
"As bluntly as you can." Hyrule chimed in.
"Fair enough. Why are certain clothes locked to certain people? It's fucking cloth." Wild complained with a laugh.
At first Wars was going to chide Wild for the language, but... He just couldn't. Wild had a point here.
"FINALLY!" Wind's loud voice startled Wars a bit as the Sailor had been awfully quiet in his seat. "Tetra and I both hate that stupid shit. What do you mean I can't wear heels? I'm trying to feel tall, and Tetra hates heels, and so somebody has to wear them."
"Tell me about it." Wild started. "Zelda let me try on one of her old royal dresses, don't ask how they survived a hundred years, and somebody had issues with that."
The Captain just laughed. Damn those social rules indeed. Wild in a dress wasn't something he was expecting to hear about today, but it was something that he could picture.
And the Champion would rock that dress.
"Heh, I've been thinking those rules were stupid since I knew they existed. So, since I was nine." Time joined the conversation. "I didn't even know what the big deal was back then."
"I'd ask how, but I'm afraid the answer would be too confusing." Twilight said.
"Oh, not at all, I was raised by forest spirits and a giant tree." The Old Man nonchalantly explained. "They didn't have concepts like "male" and "female." So imagine my confusion."
A claim that he made often but never elaborated on. Everyone, besides the Captain and Wind, thought it was a lie or a ruse.
Warriors just laughed, he couldn't help it.
"Oh little Mask and his insisting that he's a tree." Wars felt everyone's eyes turn to him.
Time laughed loudly. "You made that corporals life hell."
"I did not have time for that guy's bullshit. We are in the middle of a fucking war, if the kid says he's a tree then he's a fucking tree." Wars started to lose his composure from all of his laughing.
"What do you mean by "he's a tree"?" Sky asked while scratching his head.
"Again, I was raised by forest spirits." Time explain. "You lot, besides two, think this a lie. It's not."
"Time, your life profoundly confuses me." Sky said. "So they assigned you a tree?"
Time nodded.
"Instead of anything else?"
Another nod.
"Not like a boy tree? Just a tree?"
Another nod. "Two trees, to be exact. But yes."
"Two trees?"
"Maple and oak, to be exact."
Wars just watch the conversation with a grin. Oh, poor Sky. He must be feeling the same confusion that he and the Sailor had during the war.
"I feel so understood." Rulie said with the widest smile imaginable. "I'm just a Fae." He shrugged as the others turned to face him. "Not the legend kind of Fae. I was raised by Fairies."
"Well, now you can be a Fae tree. How lovely." Time stated with a laugh.
"What kinda tree?"
"Hmmm, you and the Captain both have the same one. Pine, and you can have maple too. As a treat."
"A Fae pine and maple tree. Nice."
"Are we just gonna brush over the fact that Wars already has a tree identity?" Legend asked.
"I do too!" Wind but in. "Take a guess, it's so obvious."
"Uh...Palm tree?" Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Correct!"
"What tree am I then?" Wild asked while seasoning a few cuts of meat.
"Willow." Time and Warriors both spoke at the same time.
"Damn, that was fast."
"You had this conversation before, hadn't you?" Sky asked while keeping his gaze locked to Wars. "So tell us our trees."
"Oh, alright, I'll try to remember all the specifics. It's been a while." Time laughed while tapping his fingers on the table.
"It all reminds me of the Minish. They have leaves instead of trees, though." Four, who had been quietly observing this whole time, finally spoke up.
"Oh, the Kokiri had leaves too. That's a whole other thing."
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slutsssphobia · 1 year
Text
'𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄!'
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This request is just so mwah 🌹
Request!:""here me out,,,,, nsfw of douma and afab!reader of overstim, public(in front of Muzan), while the reader is a hashira but like he has to keep going, and temp play with ice?????"" Muzan could join to
Warnings!: Dom!douma,sub!fem!reader,Dom! muzan,mean!douma,mean!muzan,size kink,belly bulge,monster fucking,slight non con?(reader got kidnapped) dubious con, double penetration,blowjob mention, ice play, temperature play
A/n:this is my longest work so far 🍷
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(little backround)
You had been out on a mission to seek out a location by the name of "internal paradise cult'' It was led by a demon you had to hunt down. 'Douma'. "Are you sure you can go alone?" Shinobu asked you while preparing your med kit in case you injure yourself on the journey. "There's no demon I can't take!" You said proudly. You've worked your ass off to claim your spot as a hashira, shinobu left you some extra food in case. She secured your basket and sent you off, your journey awaited you as you stepped into the forest. You had your head up high, your mind was set on this journey.
You grew to become tired and slumped yourself on a log and opened your prepared basket. You took a sip of water from your small jug. As you twisted the lid shut you heard something in the far distance.
Snap!
You quickly rose in defense and scanned the area for any threat. To your surprise it was just a small animal passing by. You sighed and placed your sword back on your side, you were about to depart but you sensed the presence of something behind you. Your head snapped to look at what was behind and your eyes widened.
"hello there.."
There stood a shadow looming over your small form, you immediately charged towards it and raised your sword to strike an attack but to your disadvantage your ankle had been grabbed by a strong force. You helped as the shadow revealed itself as the one and only.
Douma.
"looking for something? You seem puzzled dear!"
The demon let a stifled laugh, you struggled against his grip. You tried kicking him, you reached for your sword it was just out of reach. The demon noticed you reaching for your sword and smiled. "Aww you want this?"
Douma took your sword and threw it almost as far as a yard away. You were in a fit of fear, you fought for your release but the demon only sat you on his lap and toyed with your uniform. "Let me go!"
You cried as the demon unbuttoned your uniform slowly, the demon only ignored your pleas and continued. He licked his pale lips as your laced bra was revealed. You shuddered at the cold air hitting your warm skin, you hated how the demon had so much control over you. "Not so feisty now huh?"
Douma teased as he removed your black laced bra and freed your breasts from the confinement, you tried to cover your breast but your arms were put behind your back in order to restrain you. Douma took your hardened nipple in his mouth rolling the bud against his tongue. His warm tongue was making you go feral, he switched to your other nipple releasing with a small pop!
He gave the same treatment to the other and grinned at your reactions. Douma lifted your chin with his index and placed his lips on your warm ones. You tried to pull away but douma held you in place keeping you still. He bit your bottom lip harshly demanding entrance into your mouth. You refused. You kept your fighting spirit, you couldn't give in.
Douma saw right through you and bit harsher, it made you whimper and leave your mouth agape for doumas tongue to slip in. He moaned into your mouth sending a warm fuzzy feeling to your core. You felt a wetness form in your panties. Your body was failing you, you couldn't be aroused! This a demon we are talking about for crying out loud!
Douma smirked and pulled away from the steamy kiss. "Someone's excited..you're gonna have to wait darling~"
Douma pecked your lips once more before your vision went black.
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"did you find her?" Muzan asked douma as he was sitting on his throne head titled down.
"yes Lord muzan" douma replied bowing before the demon king, douma had brought you in due to muzan's orders. Of course douma found you fascinating and wanted you all to himself but it was his master's order.
"bring her in"
Douma rose from his knees and exited the room to retrieve you from your so called "room" douma had given you. You were still fast asleep when douma carried you in. You had taken a harsh blow to the head.
After five minutes had passed by you had awoken from your slumber, your vision was blurry and your leg had been wounded from what seemed nails. You rubbed your eye lids and opened your eyes to see from what it seemed the demon king. You were terrified at this point, you would have never thought you would come across muzan. Well not now in time at least, you were trembling at this point. Your lips quivered, "why am I here..?" You dared to question muzan. "No one gave you permission to speak."
Muzan spoke and glared at you with those red beaming eyes. His eye intimidated you, just a glare made you shiver.
"give her a punishment douma."
Muzan sat still in his chair eyes directed at you never leaving your body. "With pleasure~"
Douma purred as he got closer to you. He picked you up from the cold hard floor and placed you on the bed. You pleaded for him not to hurt you but your pleas went on deaf ears as douma harshly discarded your clothing leaving you on full display.
Douma kneeled at the edge of the bed and gripped your thighs and scooted you more towards the edge. Douma blew cold air against your wet fold making you gasp. Douma used his blood demon art and made a small icicle. "W-wait no please!" You begged him not to put it in you. He stroked your thigh and kissed the soft flesh. "It won't hurt dear""
At this point you didn't have anyone to believe so you stopped complaining hoping all of this would end. He slowly inserted the icicle into your sopping hole. The coldness made you shriek, douma used his tongue to push it farther in. He used this advantage and started licking fat stripes along your cold pussy.
Muzan sat and watched douma toy with you. He had a growing bulge in his pants from just the sight of you. Douma lifted his head from in between your legs and removed his pants and boxers. You were in a trance unable to think or say. The only thing that made it out of your mouth was only short babbles and moans.
Douma slapped his dick against your pussy and smiled, he leaned close to your ear and whispered sweet nothings. He slowly slipped it in not giving you time to adjust.
You screamed out loud and clawed at his back, he moaned out from the feeling and thrusted faster into you. The sound of slapping ringed in muzan's ears. He smirked at the faces you were making as douma harshly pounded into your tight pussy.
After about 15 minutes douma let out his fifth load into you. You already had two orgasms already your body was shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. Doumas thrusts were becoming sloppy, the bulge on your stomach was showing as he let out one last thrust.
"so pretty ~"
Douma cooed as he pulled out of you watching his cum ooze out your pussy. Soon after you didn't realize muzan was now sitting at the edge of the bed as well. "Douma fuck her mouth"
Muzan ordered. Douma scooted over to where your head rested and smiled sweetly masking his lewd intentions. Muzan already had his pants removed and lined himself at your entrance. He slammed without warning which made you yelp. "Fucking whore"
Muzan spat as douma plunged his cock in your mouth closing your airway. You gagged in his size. You couldn't help but swirl your tongue against him. His tip hit your throat many times but to doumas surprise your gag reflex was impressive. Muzan's pace was godly he had no intention of stopping. He was rearranging your insides at this point. He hit your cervix which made you go over the edge. You squirted all over his cock which made him harden.
Douma moaned as you sent vibrations to his cock from your own moans. He finally came in your mouth which you immediately swallowed.
Muzan pulled out of you and sat on the edge of the bed.
"douma get over here"
Muzan ordered. Douma sat on his knees before muzan and fanned himself. "You completed your mission bringing the hashira to me. I'll pity you and give you some of my blood in return." Muzan stopped for a moment.
"at one cost." Muzan started. Douma looked at muzan with doe eyes. "Please me."
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They are just so augh- 🍷
Ty for requesting love 🌺
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bradshawssugarbaby · 4 months
Text
God, Your Mama and Me (Jake Seresin x Reader)
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A/N: told y'all I listened to country music and it inspired me. Inspired by and quotes God, Your Mama and Me by Florida Georgia Line. I'm not religious but that song gets me all heart-eye emoji every time.
pairing: Jake Seresin x reader (I'm 99% sure I kept reader GN the whole time with no mentions of appearance)
content/warnings: reference to God via the song (the line is "no one's ever gonna love you more than God, your mama and me"), Jake being adorable and trying his best to be romantic but he's more awkward than he wants to be bc he doesn't do PDA, brief references to potential character death (I promise no one dies)
word count: 1.6k
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Jake took you by the hand, running playfully through the sand. Coronado Beach was where he’d taken you for your first date. It was where you’d met, where you spent every free weekend, where you’d meet with his friends at The Hard Deck for drinks on Friday nights and where you’d sit and watch the planes taking off from North Island as you waited for him to come home, not knowing what each day would bring but hoping and praying he’d come home to you safe and sound every time. 
For the last three years, Coronado was an integral part of your life. It was where you’d held Jake’s 35th birthday party, a spontaneous beach gathering complete with a cooler of chilled beers and a portable speaker belting out country tunes. Despite the groans from others, the music had a magical effect on the usually reserved Jake, prompting him to join in with spirited, off-key singing every time. 
It was where you and Jake had shared your first kiss, where he’d first told you he loved you - a sentence he admitted he never thought he’d say to anyone, swearing up and down he’d lead the bachelor life until he either died or retired, whichever came first. He’d always claim it was because he just “wasn’t the settlin’ type”, but his friends always saw right through it. 
“He’s just scared,” Bradley had assured you one day over a beer while Jake tossed darts effortless at the board a few feet out of earshot. 
Reading the puzzled look on your face, Natasha hummed playfully as she sipped her drink before raising an eyebrow at you. 
“He doesn’t want to settle down because he’s scared,” She and Bradley nodded in unison. 
“Yeah, doesn’t wanna leave behind a war widow kinda thing,” Bradley shrugs, “You’d think it’d be me who feels that way considering my dad died when I was literally a toddler, but no, apparently it’s Blondie who’s got the commitment issues.”
The first time Jake referred to you as his girl, the usually chatty Bradley had been rendered speechless, mouth agape while Natasha had choked and sputtered on her beer as she looked wide eyed at Bradley and back at Jake. Jake shrugged it off as if it was nothing, but everyone, even you, knew it was uncharacteristic of him. 
The following weekend after stunning his Navy buddies, he’d been called away to the first mission since you’d started dating. You weren’t expecting it, but you got a heartfelt, emotional goodbye from Jake, one that was genuine and raw, a side of him you’d never seen before. He’d hugged you tightly and kissed you slow and sweet, making it last, permanent on your mind in case he didn’t make it back. As he promised you he’d return, you could hear his normally velvety smooth Southern drawl crack as his voice caught in his throat. 
When he came home a few weeks later, you’d greeted him with a warm embrace, and he held you tighter than he ever had before, his first true public display of affection towards you. Bradley and Natasha could be heard whispering, while Bob simply looked on smiling, knowing how in love Jake really was, watching as it mirrored Bob’s own relationship with his girlfriend. 
“Jake, where are you taking me?” 
You laughed as you snapped back to the present, raising an eyebrow at him as he continued to lead you across the sand. His cargo shorts were hugging his hips perfectly, golden-tanned skin from the California sun illuminated in the light of the setting sun. His green eyes were full of a child-like excitement, his signature grin plastered on his face, looking like it couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried.
“Just trust me, ok? You trust me, don’t ya, Sugar?”
“Alright, alright, I trust you.”
“Atta girl, c’mon, almost there.”
You shook your head and shot him a playful eyeroll as he continued to guide you along the shore. Your mind flashed back to when you and Jake had first slept together - instead of the playful arrogance, overwhelming confidence and cocky egotistical attitude he gave off around his friends, he was the opposite when it came to loving you. He was gentle, caring, passionate and considerate. He checked in with you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it. He was selfless in the way he loved you - making sure you were taken care of in all aspects before he was, and if for whatever reason, his climax came before yours, he made a point to bring you to yours by whatever means necessary. 
When Jake asked you to move in with him, the look on your face was one of pure shock and disbelief, you were sure you were dreaming it. Your wide-eyed gaze and raised eyebrows were enough to make Jake laugh, shaking his head at you.
“Now that’s not how I thought you’d react, babe.”
“I’m sorry…I just…can you say it again?”
“Ask you again?”
“Yeah, please?”
“Ok, Sugar, you’re losin’ it, but sure, I want you to move in with me, that sound alright to ya? We both complain we don’t see each other enough, and well, I just feel like it’s time we do somethin’ ‘bout it, right?”
You nodded your head and simply threw your arms around him, letting Jake embrace you tightly as he kissed your cheek. He had his friends help you pack and by the end of that week, you were moved in with him, sharing the little house on base together. His Cowboys jersey hanging in the closet next to your Commanders one - your teams were bitter rivals, and Bradley, who had come from Virginia, your home state, was beyond shocked to see Jake allowing you to wear a Commanders jersey to their Sunday night football watch parties. Bradley, forced to wear a jersey for another team, pouted at Jake.
“How come when I wear my Commanders jersey, I get told to fuck off and stay outside?”
“You don’t look cute in Washington’s colours, Bradshaw,” Jake replied matter of factly as he kissed you on the cheek, leaving Bradley to pout once again.
Jake stopped in front of you, turning his body to face you, bringing you back to reality for another moment. His unwavering grin still on his face, smiling at you as if you were the only sight around him for miles. Your heart melted when he looked at you - it always did - the love he had for you was always evident on his face, his gaze full of admiration and affection for you.
Your eyes widened as Jake went down on one knee in front of you. The sounds of the waves crashing against the sandy coast echoing softly around you. The odd passerby gawking as they went for their stroll in the dusky glow of the beach as the sun began to set on Coronado. Jake beamed up at you from where he stood on bended knee, his eyes matching the seafoam that was pooling around you, inching closer and closer to where you stood. 
“Darlin’, remember that date I took ya on, where you made me dance with ya on the beach, after I swore I never would? That song you made me dance to, the one by Florida Georgia Line?”
“I remember,” you said, gazing at him with tear soaked eyes.
“Sugar, you know I’m not good at this kinda stuff - it’s more Bradley’s thing, being all sentimental and shit, but I’m gonna try my damnest, ok? You know how that song goes, “Baby you know my love is never gonna run dry, never gonna come up empty, now until the day I die, unconditionally,”
Jake’s cheeks blushed a soft pink as he tried his best to carry the tune, serenading you by the oceanside, “then it’s like, “You know I’m always gonna be here for ya, no one’s ever gonna love you more than God, your mama and me”? Guess that’s what I’m tryin’ to say here, no one on this earth is gonna be able to love you, or anyone else more than I do. I’m sure of it. I didn’t even think it was possible for me to love you as much as I do, but Baby, do I ever love you.”
“Jake,” you started, feeling yourself becoming breathless with excitement as he spoke.
“Babygirl, will you do me the greatest honor ever, and become Mrs. Seresin? I never thought I’d ever marry anyone, but I’d be a fool to not marry you, darlin’.” 
Speechless, you nodded your head quickly, unable to make any sound other than an excited squeal of delight as he slipped the ring onto your finger. As Jake stood upright, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a loving embrace, his lips crashing against yours as he kissed you passionately.
From behind you, you could hear familiar voices cheering - you broke the kiss and turned to see Reuben, Javy, Mickey, Bradley, Natasha and Bob standing there, all beaming at you. Bradley wiped a single tear from his eye in his usual dramatic fashion, while Bob gave a proud thumbs up to Jake. A congratulatory smile formed on Natasha’s features, while Javy, Mickey and Reuben all applauded you both. You were overcome with emotion as you shared this moment with Jake and your friends. 
“You all knew?”
“Of course we knew, Jake can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Natasha grinned, shrugging her shoulders.
“I get to be best man, right?” Bradley grinned as he clapped his hand onto Jake’s shoulder in a congratulatory substitute for a hug. 
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Text
ORDINARY LIFE | ARSENAL WFC X TEEN AVENGER OC | PT 1
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pairings: arsenal women x teen avenger oc (platonic)
summary: in which a sixteen year old just wants to live an ordinary life away from all the superheroing madness and play football for her club, trying to hide her past as a former teen avenger from all her teammates.
part one: beginnings
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Ameris Adarlan knew her life was anything but ordinary. She had grown up amidst the chaos of heroes and villains, her parents' affiliation with SHIELD and their close friendship with Tony Stark shaping her childhood in ways she never imagined.
From a young age, Ameris had been thrust into a world of secrets and danger, her parents' untimely demise serving as a stark reminder of the perils that came with their line of work. A planned fatal car accident that claimed their lives had left her ten year old self scarred, both emotionally and physically, the jagged line running across her left eyebrow a constant reminder of the tragedy that had torn her family apart.
Tony Stark, her father's closest friend, had then taken her under his wing, and Ameris grew determined to avenge her parents’ deaths, joining the Avengers at the young age of thirteen, intent on aiding them however she could.
Ameris didn’t have any powers that made her outshine like most of the other Avengers, choosing to remain in the shadows of the spotlight. But she did possess a special talent, the ability to predict the movement of others or objects by reading their body language and initial movement. 
While everyone around her told her that she was an Avenger prodigy, that she was gifted with this talent, and made her feel like that she should consider herself lucky because of this ability, no one knew how hard she worked on this skill and trained to be where she was at, spending years trying to read every individual’s mannerisms and body language.
But as the years passed, with each mission assigned to her remaining victorious, came the daunting realisation that their heroism came at a cost. A cost that Ameris couldn't bear to pay like her parents had.
So, at the age of sixteen, she had finally made the decision to leave it all behind. With a heavy heart and a determined spirit, she bid farewell to the Avengers and the life she had once known, hoping to seek solace in the simplicity of a world untouched by chaos and strife.
It was a decision born out of necessity and self-preservation, a choice to reclaim the appearance of a normal life she had been deprived of for so long. With London beckoning her with open arms, Ameris decided to move there and pursue a career in football, a passion she had shared keenly with her father, but hadn’t had the strength to pursue since his death.
Not until now.
And so here she stood, outside the doors of Arsenal Football Club, feeling a surge of anticipation course through her veins. The crisp London air filled her lungs as she took a deep breath, the cool breeze blowing her dark hair locks back.
She steeled herself for the new chapter that awaited her, ready to leave behind the shadows of her past, and entered inside. Making her way to the reception area, she greeted the staff with a warm smile, her nerves masked behind a facade of confidence.
"Hi there, I'm Ameris Adarlan," she said, offering a smile to the receptionist. "I'm a new signing."
"Ah, yes, Miss. Adarlan. Welcome to Arsenal,” The receptionist greeted her with a warm smile, her fingers flying across the keyboard before she slid a clipboard over to her to sign some papers. “I'm afraid the captain and vice-captain are currently tied up with the other new signings, but they'll be with you shortly."
Ameris shrugged nonchalantly. "No worries. I can wait."
The receptionist handed her a badge with her name imprinted on it, a small gesture that made Ameris feel oddly official. 
"Feel free to roam around the facility in the meantime," the receptionist told her.
Ameris nodded her thanks and set off to explore, her curiosity piqued by the prospect of getting to know her new surroundings. She passed the hallways with photos of the team framed each year, and couldn’t help but stop for a moment in front of the trophies’ display to admire it.
“Hey there!” 
Ameris shifted her gaze to the person that gained her attention, watching the brown-haired woman make her way towards her with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, dressed in the Arsenal training kit. 
“Hi,” Ameris greeted her with a sincere smile.
“I was excited when we were informed that we were getting a teenager signing, and an adorable kid, no less.” Ameris chuckled while the woman extended her hand politely. 
"I'm Steph, by the way. Welcome to Arsenal." Of course she knew who she was. She’d done her research on all of them. 
“Thank you. And I’m Ameris,” she replied back as shook her hand firmly, noting the genuine warmth in Steph's demeanour. “But I think you already knew that.”
“You’re right about that.” Steph grinned before pointing at Ameris’ badge that hung around her neck. “And I read your name on that.” 
“Oh, yeah.”
“Has Kim or Leah gotten to show you around yet?”
Ameris shook her head. “Not yet, no. They were still busy with the other signings.”
"Well, I’ve got nothing better to do, so how about I show you around? Consider it a little welcome gift from one teammate to another," Steph offered.
"Sure." Ameris smiled.
She fell into step beside Steph as they began their impromptu tour of the club. 
As they made their way through the training facilities and locker rooms, they came across Katie McCabe and Beth Mead, two of Ameris' new teammates.
"Hey there, newbie!" Beth greeted Ameris with a friendly grin. "I'm Beth, and this here is Katie."
"Hi," Ameris greeted them warmly, returning their smiles. "Nice to meet you both. I'm Ameris."
Katie's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she studied Ameris with interest. "So, what brings you to Arsenal, Ameris? You must be pretty talented to get signed at such a young age."
Ameris chuckled softly, rubbing the back of her neck in a modest manner. "I guess you could say I've had some practice. But honestly, I just love the game. Football has always been a passion of mine."
Katie nodded in understanding. "Well, you've certainly come to the right place. Arsenal is like a big chaotic family, and we're thrilled to have you join us."
With a smile of gratitude, Ameris felt a sense of warmth wash over her. Maybe, just maybe, she could find the ordinary life here she had always longed for.
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
hey everyone! i love reading comments and they really motivate me to continue writing so pls feel free to comment your thoughts <33
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sagesskies · 5 months
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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ
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✒ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴀʀᴛ
☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇʀᴇʟʏ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ᴏꜰ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ɢᴏᴅ, ʜᴇ ᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴍᴏᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ, ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ [ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ɪꜱ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴇᴀʀᴅ], ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ, ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴇɴᴀɴɪɢᴀɴꜱ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍɪʟᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴅᴜʙᴄᴏɴ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!
Yandere Spirit who was your secret boyfriend in high school. A forbidden romance between two youths, who often got to keep their secret because it’d always be excused as just ‘Boys being boys’. He was the most popular boy in school, his older brother was just as popular, but he was even more so. 
Yandere Spirit who was good looking, kind hearted, intelligent, and athletically talented as well. You never knew how you were able to get with a guy like him, you were simply another guy on the track team, and he was not only the team’s star but also the captain. 
Yandere Spirit who was possessive of you, even in life. He’d always claim you as his partner for group projects, even if there were smarter kids in class, and whenever there was an opportunity he'd always insist you wear his track jacket that had his last name on the back. 
Yandere Spirit who still dated other girls, and you tried not to mind so much. They were just a cover, he told you that and you knew it to be true, both of you were aware of what happened to gay boys in this town. He understood more than you, because his older brother Tommy was one of them, and he ran away when he was seventeen. 
Yandere Spirit who remains oblivious to how much his behavior with his girlfriends bother you. You never liked how he was always so physically intimate with them. Yeah, it'd be expected of a couple but did he have to do it so much? God, you can't bear to watch this.
Yandere Spirit who always notices how you distance yourself from him whenever he has a new girlfriend, and one day confronts you about it.
“Cmoon, [Name], why won't you just tell me!” Raphael practically whines, he refused to let go of your hand. You were both part of the track and field team but with his strength you'd argue he could be a football player. 
When you still didn't reply, he huffs, looks around to see if anybody else was around, then pulls you in close, perching his head on top of yours despite your protests. 
“Please babe?” God you never liked it when he called you babe, but you let him anyway, “Tell me what's bothering you…” He sounds like he's near to tears but you keep your lips shut.
“Raph, seriously I'm fine,” You insist, even though you're really not. 
The whole day, you had to hang around Raphael and his new girlfriend. It wasn't so bad, Raph made sure that you were included in the conversation and his girl, Cheryl you think her name was, was actually very nice. 
Your problem with the situation was seeing your boyfriend being all sweet and cuddly with his new beard the same way he always was with you. Well, there was the fact that he was technically cheating on you- But that's not the big issue here! 
Unfortunately for you, you shared a good quarter of your classes with the two lovebirds, and eventually you just distanced yourself from them till you were able to handle the sight of the two of them together. 
Even more unfortunately, was Raph's clinginess to you. When he saw you start to drift away, he immediately pulled you back in and when you decided to just ignore them as best as possible without looking rude, he caught on to that too. 
“Ugh, I know you're lying [Name],” Raphael pouted, “Come on, remember how we promised each other no secrets between us? Don't tell me you forgot!” 
You rolled your eyes, “Anybody would forget Raph, you made me say it in the 2nd grade.” 
“Still!” He protested, “Just tell me already [Name].” You could feel his grip get tighter around you, he was getting impatient. 
“Was it something I did?” Yes. 
“Does it have to do with Cheryl?” Yes. 
“Oh come on, don't tell me you're jealous of her!” It was Raph’s turn to roll his eyes, “Babe you know I'm only using her as a cover.” 
You glared at him, “Doesn't mean you have to be so touchy with her.” 
“She's my new girlfriend,” He used air quotes when he said the word girlfriend, “Gonna have to act like I’m head over heels for her to sell the act.” 
You knew he was right, he was saying the exact same things you told yourself whenever you tried to stop the ugly green monster that was envy from rearing its head. 
“Besides, don’t you think you kinda deserve it?” 
Your eyes widen, and you frown, “What? What do you mean?” Raphael shrugged, “I mean, you’re always tusslin’ and getting all up close with the other guys in the team,” His voice had a bitter edge to it, “I’m your boyfriend,” His hold on you strengthened, “It’s like I’m forced to watch you feel up all these other guys when the only ass you should be groping is mine.” 
“Do you hear how silly you sound right now?” You deadpanned, “It’s just guys being guys, most of us have been wrestling each other since we were kids.” 
He groans, “Ugh, but that doesn’t change that they still get to touch you so much!” 
You sigh, perhaps you and him weren’t so different after all. Not when both of you were so petty as to get jealous because of just, a really plain stupid reason. 
So you pat him on the back, and comfort him like you would a child throwing a tantrum. Till he stops whining, and you apologize to each other, then you continue to pretend that it doesn’t bother you when he presses a kiss to a girl’s lips, when he holds her hand, or even plays with her hair. 
And you pretend like he’s not playing with your heart. 
Yandere Spirit who you watch as he competes with his brother Gabriel over your younger sister, a popular junior who was vice-captain of the cheerleading team. Sometimes when he kisses you, you can’t help but think that this is the same tongue that flirts with your sister. 
Yandere Spirit who you accompany when his brother tells him to meet in the woods near Varenway cliff. Sure he was told to go alone, but you never trusted Gabe, he was always too intense for your liking. It was why he’d never be as popular as his brother. 
Yandere Spirit who you can only watch as he gets into a fight with his brother, held back by the stronger arms of Gabe’s football teammates who tease and mock you all while assuring Gabe won’t hurt Raphael too badly.
You thrash in their grip like a wild animal refusing to be caged, you kick at their feet, try to slam your head back into their stupid faces, but regardless of your attempts you are still stuck. 
“Let go of me, you assholes!” You practically spit. 
One of them, your classmate Sam Moss, sneers at you, then turns to his friend, who you recognize as Luke Herring, “Should we let [Name] go Luke?” 
Luke lets out a dumb laugh, “Huhuhu, naahh,” His tone is calm like an afternoon breeze, but his eyes are filled with only malice, “I don’t think we should Sam.” 
You click your tongue and tune out the rest of their words, they think they’re so intimidating just because they hang around Gabe, who nobody dares to pick a fight with, but they’re nothing more but tiny little pups who think the wolf’s shadow is their own. 
Instead you focus your gaze onto Raphael, who moves quicker than Gabe, but whenever a hit is able to land, it lands hard. Your heart clenches when you see the newly forming bruise above Raph’s brow, his busted lip, but you force yourself to remain silent. Raph can handle himself, and you hated to admit to it but Sam and Luke were right, Gabe may be dumb but he wasn’t that dumb to let Raph get seriously hurt. 
But still, for every hit that Raph gets in, Gabe lands another solid punch. Raph’s blood stains Gabe’s fists, and his beautiful face is marred. Gabe himself does not even need to catch his breath, the only evidence of exhaustion is a light sheen of sweat. 
You feel a sharp tug on your head, and you wince, Luke grabs your hair and has a look of anger on his face. 
“Little shit, fuckin’ pay attention to us damnit!” His spit flies in your face, and you grimace, “Should fuckin’ teach you a lesson for such disrespect.” 
Sam cackles like a hyena, “Ha! I don’t think Gabe would mind us roughin’ this arrogant prick up a bit,” In his eyes there is a hunger for violence, and you suppress the urge to shiver, you get what your mother means now when she says that men are like animals. You’ve never felt more like prey before now. 
You try to ignore them, and the fear that slowly builds in your chest, to get one last glimpse at Raph. But all you see is his head hanging low, and being grabbed by Gabe, whose bruised hands are curled tightly around his collar, before you are thrown down into the floor, and Luke gets on top of you. 
His sleeves are pulled back, and he draws back his fist for a punch, but before he can Sam who is still watching the fight, gasps, and Luke turns to see what has happened. Their eyes widen, but all you can hear that tells you of what just happened is a distant sickening crunch. 
Luke gets off of you and both he and Sam run to Gabe, who is looking down the cliff. Where is Raph? 
You get up, legs shaky for a bit before you steel your resolve and steady, you voice your thoughts, “Where's Raph?” 
When you get no response, the fear that was building from the fear of Luke getting his meaty hands on you is now growing from the possibility that Gabe let his anger get the best of him. At the thought of it, it is not only fear budding within you, but also anger. 
You march over to Gabe, and with strength you didn’t have before you grab him by the back of his collar and turn him around so you and him were now eye-to-eye, “Did you push him off, Gabriel?” Your voice is shaky, from fury, from anxiety, from both, you do not know. When you receive no response, you grit your teeth, and shake him violently, “Answer me, you bastard!” 
Gabriel’s eyes go wide, and his mouth parts but there are no words that leave his lips. But then he nods, and your sudden burst of strength fizzles away, and your hands let go of him. You walk, one step backward, another, and then another, and you fall on your own bottom, and your hands go to your head. Raph loved to do the same thing, hand going to the top of your head and holding it gently, sometimes just laying there together, his hand on your head and both of you quiet together.
You cannot let them see your tears, you cannot. But the dam breaks, and you start to sob. 
You hear them speak, Gabe, Sam, and Luke. However, you don’t want to listen to them. They killed him. Sam and Luke had less blood on their hands, but they were the ones who restrained you. If they didn’t then- Then maybe you could- You could… You don’t know. You don’t know, you don’t know. 
Gabe is standing in front of you, arms crossed, “Get up, [L/N],” His voice was gruff, nothing like Raph’s who always sounded like he was singing or speaking poetry, “Unless you want to end up like Raph did, you’ll do as I say.” Gabe was cruel too, nothing like Raph. 
Hesitantly, you get up, and wipe away the tears on your face. Sam and Luke who were looking at you like you were no better than the dirt on their shoe, now look at you with slight pity. It was no secret in school that you and Raphael were the best of friends, but they wouldn’t be looking at you so if they knew what you two were really like. 
You go down the cliff with them, traversing through the steep and rocky terrain. Till you arrived at the bottom, where Raph’s body lay. The blood had stopped flowing by then, or perhaps there was simply too much to look like there was more accumulating. Luke covers the bottom half of his face, Sam turns his head away, and only you and Gabe can look at the corpse. 
You glance at him, his face is like stone. You wonder if he regrets what he’s done tonight over your sister, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him without feeling like bile was going to start creeping up your throat. 
You help them carry the body deeper into the woods, Luke and Sam go to get the shovel Sam’s dad always kept in the back of his truck, and you are left with the boy who killed your lover. 
Both of you are silent, and your eyes go to look at his bruised knuckles stained with Raph’s blood. You must’ve been staring because he glares at you, “What? You wanna join Raph in his grave?” 
You know you should stay silent, but you’ve had enough of that. 
“It’d be better than having to bury him, that’s for sure,” You snarl out, you want to sock him across the face, but you’d have less impact than Raphael did, “You’re a monster.” 
“He got what was coming to him,” Gabriel clenched his fists, “If it wouldn’t be me, it may have been you.” 
You flinch, “The hell are you talking about Gabe?” You? Kill Raph? If that was meant to be a joke it wasn’t very funny. But Gabe had the same amount of charm as a donkey’s ass so it probably shouldn’t have surprised you.
“You think I’m blind, [L/N]?” A smirk forms on his face, it looks like Raphael's but at the same time it couldn’t be more different, “Everybody’s seen how you look at him and his girlfriends.” 
Your heart raced, did- Did he know? Did everybody know? If so, why weren’t you getting picked on? Raphael may have been the most popular guy in school, but even he would get harassed by some jerk. 
“You don’t get to chastise me for shit like this when you’re jealous of all the girls he gets,” At first you’re surprised he knows the word chastise, but when he accuses you of that, you laugh. You laugh like you would at a joke Raphael made, and when you realize that you start to cry. 
Gabe looks like he’s going to make fun of you, but thinks better of it when he sees the tears racing down your face and makes an expression of discomfort. 
Sam and Luke return, and by that time you’ve dried your tears. Gabe and Luke, the stronger ones, start to dig the grave, and Sam lights a cigarette. He hesitates, and then offers you one, a peace offering of sorts. 
You take it, even if you’ve never smoked before, and you cough as the smoke fills your lungs. 
“Sorry about Raphael,” He says, there is no cruelty, there is no mockery, only remorse for the blood that has been spilled, “Didn’t know him much, but I knew you two were close.” 
You take another puff, and you cough less this time, “It shouldn’t be you who’s apologizing,” You glare at Gabriel, who is digging his own twin brother’s grave. Sam follows your gaze, and he purses his lips, but then he nods.
You crush the cigarette under your shoe, and go to Raphael’s cold corpse. Your eyes scan over him, his eyes are open, the once vibrant green now hollow and empty. You close his eyes. Before you stand back up, you see a familiar glint of steel. The necklace he told you was gifted by his mother.
You take it off his neck, the cross dangling at the end gleaming even in the dark, then place it in your pocket.
Eventually Gabriel and Luke finish up, and you and Sam pick up Raphael’s body and then settle him gently into the grave. 
You take one last look at his face, burning it into your mind. He is beautiful even when his face is bloody and bruised. You want to weep again, your tears would wash away the filth from his face, but they would not bring him back. 
Yandere Spirit who invades your dreams every single night. He holds you close and what was once a warm embrace, is now a cold and stiff cage. Even if it is a dream you can smell the iron from the blood on his skin, and the earthy odor of the soil he was buried in. 
Yandere Spirit whose search you volunteer for. Even if it is only to avoid suspicion. You’re paired with Gabe and his younger brother Amos Jr., and the silence is filled with Junior’s ceaseless chatter. You pity the young boy, who shouldn’t have to search for his brother who he doesn’t even know is dead. 
When you go near the spot you buried Raph, your gaze immediately meets Gabe’s and a silent agreement goes between you two. Do not let Junior find the grave. 
But despite your best efforts, the boy does, and you can only watch while Gabe threatens him to keep his mouth shut. You're sick, and you haven’t eaten anything all day. You tell Gabe and Junior to go ahead, and then puke your guts out near Raph’s grave. 
You hold on to a tree, and sob. The taste of vomit, still on your tongue. The wind blows through your hair, it feels like Raph’s gentle caress. You swear you even hear his voice, whispering to you that it's all going to be okay, that he’ll make things better, that Gabe would pay for what he’s done. 
Time passes by. You attend Raphael’s funeral. You study, and go to your classes. You run, run faster than you’ve ever ran. You run faster than even Raph, who you’ve replaced as the track team captain. You wear his necklace every day, and you’d never take it off if you could help it. 
Sometimes you swear you hear him, whispering into your ear. Every night you feel like he’s holding you as well, but his touch is cold, yet it still brings you comfort after every nightmare where his bloody corpse stares at you from the shallow grave Gabe made for him. 
You start to isolate yourself, especially when the comforting touches become rough and possessive when you spend too much time with anybody else. You make small talk with your classmate? Ghostly fingers dig their nails into your skin. You roughhouse with your friends? Cold arms wrap themselves around your waist so tight you feel like it’s getting crushed. You get hit on by a girl? Suddenly she’s got a cold look in her eyes and leaves mid sentence. 
When you graduate, you don’t attend any parties, and you’re not invited to many other than the ones hosted by your track teammates. Gabe invites you to one, surprisingly, but when Raph wraps himself possessively around you, you know you’re not leaving the house tonight.
You don’t sleep that night either, not when Raph’s hands grope your bare flesh, sensitive against his cool touch. You swear you can see him, blood still staining his skin, his eyes are vacant but at the same time hazy with lust. He whimpers, and whines, panting into your ear.
  “Feels good.”
  “Nngh, sooo warm.” 
 “Need you, need you, need you.”
 “Love you, love you ‘s much.”
 “Never letting you go, n- ha.. not even death can separate us.” 
You feel dirty, like you’re being used. But you let him continue, you deserve this. Don’t you? You didn’t help him. You were too weak to help him. If only you were stronger, maybe it wouldn’t be his ghost on top of you right now but it’d be him in the flesh. Body just as warm as yours, a beautiful red flush on his sun kissed skin. You’d trace over every freckle, every small childhood scar, and hold him close to you till the sun rose.
But instead, your only company is the freezing form of Raph’s specter as he desperately clings to the comfort of your warmth, to feel alive again. And he’s never leaving you. 
“...You’re mine, mine, [Name],” His frigid whispers send a shiver down your spine, “You are mine even in death.”
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☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.
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theghostkingisdead · 2 months
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dpxdc - Neglected Child AU
As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.
There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.
Knock, knock, knock.
Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”
Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.
“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”
“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.
Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.
Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.
The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.
“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”
Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”
The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.
“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”
Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”
There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.
Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”
Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.
Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”
Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.
“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”
Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”
“Tell me.”
“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”
Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”
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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months
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If your still taking requests, could you do a Clarisse x Fem Child of Aphrodite reader who was a cheerleader before coming to camp and still has her uniform.
She remembers she has it and trys it on, it still fits and she feels nostalgic so she goes somewhere secluded to practice her old cheers. Doing all the tricks and blackflips.
Meanwhile Clarisse wants to see her favorite girl but can't find her so she goes looking and finds reader doing all that stuff?
Thanks! - Marshmellow🤍
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- 1! 2! Ready go! -
Pairings - Clarisse Larue x Fem! cheerleader! Reader
An - this is my last request YALL should do totes send more
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You had done cheer since you could remember. Elementary, middle school, basketball, competition and football cheer, even to your freshman year of high-school.
That all changed though when you had been claimed by your godly parent. You figured only a summer at camp would be sufficient and you could go back to your old school and continue cheer! That back fired however After a group of monsters attack a cheer camp you went too.
You didn’t mind at first, giving up the sport. But now sitting on your bed holding your old cheer uniform you couldn’t help but miss the sport. Some of your favorite memories were made in it after all.
An idea soon came to you however. If you put it on and did a few tricks it wouldn’t hurt right..?. Only one way to find out.
A little tight around the chest, and the skirt was much smaller than you last remembered, the uniform still fit perfectly. Throwing on a pair of white tennis shoes and pulling your hair back into a signature ponytail with a bow you ran out your cabin.
——
The arena was empty as most campers were off playing capture the flag, conveniently your ‘ankle still hurt’ so you were allowed to sit out.
You let out a deep breath and adjusted your grip on your pompoms. Mentally prepping yourself before counting off. “1-2.. 1234——
“ Go team! Go team!
Who do we mean?
We'll say it loud,
Because we're proud.
P-A-N-T-H-E-R-S!
Panther pride! Panther pride!
We're steppin' up, so step aside!
We're the best; we're here to win
Panther power's here again!”
The feeling of doing an old cheer brought back an old sense of adrenaline. You shook your pompoms above your head with a wide smile.
“V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!
We're gonna win the game
And you wanna know why?
'Cause we've got spirit
And we're riding high, so
V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!”
Tossing the pompoms aside you let out a deep breath. Doing a round off back hand spring while sticking the landing you panted. It had been a while since you had last some the tricks showing you were out of practice.
In the distance you heart a slow clapping. Looking over nervously you saw clarisse sitting on the bench near by you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me I was dating a cheerleader? I mean damn there’s something’s I’d like to brag about” she teased making her way over to you, grabbing your waist and admiring your uniform
“You brag to much as it is you don’t need another thing to add to that list” you gave her a slight unamused look. “And by your good attitude I take it you won?”
Clarisses grin confirmed your suspicions. She kissed you, once again squeezing your waist slightly. “Yeah you definitely won” you smiled.
“Obivously, you really think I was just gonna let annabeth embarrass my cabin again? No fucking way— ” with one final squeeze to your waist Clarisse started to lead you out of the arena.
You tried to stop her mainly because of how exposed you were in your uniform but the other woman didn’t seem to really care.
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YN - Clarisse half My Ass is out let me go change
Clarisse - nah it’s fine besides you look cute in your uniform
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