#something she's always wanted but never had. a safe place to sit by a fire that she doesn't have to tend and do her work... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lady-ashfade · 4 months

Text

Matching flames

Percy Jackson x Soulmate!Reader

-£ Ask: Percy x reader who's his soul mate and he only finds out when she almost dies (could be trying to save him or just because life as a demigod is hard) @poemfreak306

-£ words: 2k

-£ Warnings: Reader being injured, soulmate au, blood & cuts, reader almost dying, angsty, comfort at the end, cursing?? (You can also imagine any Percy you want in this)

Could you count all the stars in the sky?

It was almost peaceful looking up at the stars, mind going blank and your body numb. they looked so beautiful and you realize you’ve never quite looked closely at them. burning rocks floating in space that somehow was the cause of so many poems and love stories. if only you had noticed it sooner.

Blood leaked out of your side and the hand you placed over it started to give up trying to put pressure on the wound. The monster who chased you for miles had finally got to you after being so close to camp, to being safe and sound, when it’s claws finally got ahold of you. Its sharp nails dragged into your skin ripping your clothes and stained them with the blood immediately pouring out. thankfully you had one stroke of luck when your dagger pierced its heart and it was quick to fall.

Not much time has passed since then, however it was enough time for you to loss too much blood.

Had the stars always been that pretty? Just a thought as your eyes blur and the only thing left to feel was the thoughts in your head. The sweet smile of your moral parent’s smile, how it felt to laugh with friends and how some part of you still felt on fire. The shore of the camp’s lake appeared in your mind, and sand beneath your feet as you look at someone’s figure. The smile on their face was so familiar…Maybe it was death being nice to you.

you tried to keep your eyes open but they were just too heavy. maybe you could just rest for a few minutes. there was a sense of warmth that took over your body once more as your eyes fade closed.

“He’s coming, not long little one.”

the campfire wasn’t his focus at the moment but he found himself staring into it as his thoughts ran wild. he had just back to camp but this year was so much different. there was so much on his mind that he just couldn’t focus on one thing. about his mother, his father and how he still couldn’t believe he was a Demi god. even after a long time it just wasn’t normal to him.

then a hiss leaves his lips as he clings to his side in pain. it was stinging and felt on fire. he knew how being wounded felt like all to well but nothing happened, he was just sitting. then his finger felt funny like pins and needles stabbed him all at once. from his left annabeth looks at him worried and looking of his confused face.

“What’s wrong?” But the boy just stared at himself as the pain faded away but his hand became numb and weird. He spun it around a few times to look over it, checking for anything causing it but found nothing. not even a bug.

it was your smile that popped in his head. the warm shoulder he always laid on, he could hear the laugh you had ringing in his ears. why? his name was called from your soft lips but it wasn’t like normal, he saw your lips with blood from the corner. reaching out to him like he was your only hope.

“Y/n.” He stood up immediately at the image in his head. looking around for you in the crowd of campers he didn’t find you with your siblings or around your friends. annebeth looked at him worried and stood up with him, “what is it?”

he knew those trees. he’s seen then a million times. percy knew the grass, but this was different from actually knowing where you were. something was tugging his body and he didn’t need ask where you were. he knew.

his feet moved on their own and he practically ran where they took him and only thought of you. Annebeth stayed behind and told Mr.d that something might be wrong. Percy felt off and not the normal kind he always did. his body felt weaker like it was losing its life. his chest felt off and his heart filled with sorrow.

so when he found you laying in a pool of your own blood he was quick to fall next to you. “y/n” he called out. he checked for a pulse but couldn’t do it right so he leaned next to your nose and listened for your breathing and thankfully he felt some. his heart was pounding when he saw the cuts on your body making his mind wonder to what could have done it. the camp was just a few feet away and you could have been safe.

“Don’t die,” he begged and places his arm under your head, “this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” his words didn’t make sense to him when he spoke. how was it supposed to be? what was he talking about.

the new light in the sky made him look up to a shooting star shoot cross the sky. it was truly beautiful. something around his finger pulled again and he felt the small feeling of string so when he looked down it was red and tied around him. following the line he found it connected to you. The string of fate.

his string was tied to yours. you were his soulmate.

“no, no” he wrapped another arm under your legs and left you up slightly. he was staring at your face with tears pooling themselves in his eyes. for the first time he was finally seeing you as what you were. his. but how could the gods be so cruel to take you way from him. Percy wouldn’t let that happen. he’d fight hades himself for you back.

“just stay with me.” there he was carrying you passed the camp line to get you to the infirmary. even in the near death you looked stunning as you away did. he was just to stupid to see it before.

when they took you away from him he was quiet and stood outside the door and refused to leave. percy even refused to leave the room at first but was yelled at and pushed out, so he had no choice but to leave your side. how could he just stay outside when he could lose the one person that was supposedly to stay with him, to love him, and who was supposed to be with him always? how could he just sit still when he was going to lose it all?

his friends came to sit with him and offered him some kind words and reassurance but not much helped. he just sat down on a chair with his legs bouncing and hands fiddling with themselves as all he could think is about you. about the cuts on your skin and all the blood.

luckily they had gotten you somewhat healed, making you stable and fine. just had to wait for your body to heal.

“Percy,” annabeth poked his shoulder as he stared at the floor. they had left and he could go in now but he didn’t notice. “you can go in now.” Percy turn quickly to her and then at the door wide open now. so he sprinted up and inside to find you laying on the bed peacefully sleeping. annabeth didn’t follow him in because he needed a moment alone. she’d let him have his moment

Percy sat beside your bed the whole time you slept. he’d fed you. he’d brushed your hair out of your face and watched you closely as if someone was out to get you. his hand was always ready to pull out riptide in case but nothing dangerous ever came. his hand stayed in yours while he whispered for you to wake up and how much he was sorry.

“Should have realized it before,” he whispered as he leaned near you. “gosh, I’m such a idiot.” he sighed to himself and ran his eyes over you.

His hands rubbed your own, “Just wake up and I’ll make up for it. For all the time we lost, just let me love you.” His lips pressed to your head as you continued to sleep unknowing to his words but your body healing by having him close.

two days of not getting much sleep himself you’d waken up. his head resting next to your leg as he sat in a chair with his hand on yours, his hair messy. you didn’t remember coming to the infirmary or how you got here. and not percy holding your hand. but you couldn’t let go off it because it was to comfortable like it was made to fit in yours.

when you moved your body since it felt so stiff from probably not moving in days you’d accidentally woke him up. you felt bad as he shot up quickly and looked around panicked with his hand going to his side, probably reaching for riptide. once his eyes found yours it made your heart sink into your lower stomach. under his eyes were black circles and his eyes looked so painful that it broke you, like he’d been crying. he was paler then normal.

A sad smile broke onto his face, he was relieved to see you awake. He let out a small chuckle as his eyes almost filled with tears when he jumped forward you take your head into his chest as a small hug. “Welcome back,” you froze at his hug but let him have his moment. of course you smiled and wrapped your arms around him too. It was nice.

“Percy, how long was I out…How did I get here?” Pulling himself back with a red tint in his chest he sat back down.

“I found you outside the barrier. Y/n, I thought you were dead, you were barely breathing.” his voice broke. “but I got you here and now you’re awake. not dead,” there was that damn smiling again that pained you, like he was convincing his demons something.

humming and nodding your head along you look at your side to see it healed, lifting up your shirt just a little and saw a scar on your skin. it made you frown knowing how big it would be. “If it means anything, I think you’d look badass.” you put your shirt back down and look at him.

he was trying to make you feel better. “Percy when I was- When I closed my eyes I heard something and my body, well it felt different. Do you know anything about that?” his heart skipped a beat and his eyes slightly going wide.

was it obvious how fluster he was? was his skin as red as a tomato, did he look like a fool? “I have to tell you something.” Percy played with his own hands again and looked away for a second. you swing your legs to the side of the bed to stretch.

“Go ahead.”

You watched him closely and you could see he was working himself up to speak. how his body bounced and twitched, he was turning redder by the second. he was cute. and you yourself found your own cheeks turning hot when you looked at him.

“I saw you at the campfire in my mind. I could feel the pain you felt, or somewhat, like I was dying. my body was pulling me to you and I knew exactly where to find you without having to look.” As he explained you listened carefully and tilted your head to the side.

“then I saw it. The red string of fate tied to my finger. I saw a shooting star, then I saw your string tied to my. And for the first time I saw you for the first time, as my soulmate.”

“Oh.” Damnit. That was bad.

Percy nodded and now started to shut down as he watched you, your brain moving to figure out what to say. he just ruined everything. you wished to not be his soulmate, that was it. he didn’t blame you. Percy brought danger whereever he went.

But that wasn’t it. you had been thinking something else. everything made sense to you now. why you looked at him when no one else was looking. why he made you feel high in the clouds when he was near. and how he just fit so well in your life without trying. “Percy,” you call out to him again and move closer and scoot to the end of the bed with your feet hitting the floor.

you should have known from his eyes. as they look at you now it just hit you like bricks, how they were so powerful. as you take his cheek in your hands his breath hitches and holds in his chest. “i’m glad you’re my soulmate.”

he pulled you close to him and held you so tight in how arms as you giggled at how happy he seemed. his laugh made your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll make you happy.” And that you had no doubt about. you pulled back from his grasp and looked at his lips. you needed to kiss him. and Percy knew what you were thinking and wanted the same.

his face moved forward as his kiss captured yours in a soft but passive kiss, his hands moving to wrap themselves around your body as yours wrapped around his neck. it was nice but didn’t end short. after all you both waited for a long time to feel the love of a soulmate and you didn’t know that you craved it this badly.

The stars never lied when it comes to love. And now you knew that he was the burning fire within you.

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson x male reader #Percy Jackson x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #angst to fluff #soulmate au

2K notes · View notes

luxaofhesperides · 5 months

Note

Ghostlights cuddling for comfort, but also they're oblivious idiots who are pining over each other but thinks its unrequited

“Ugh,” Duke says, dropping down onto the bench besides Danny.

Danny nudges him with his shoulder. “Rough night?”

“Slept for like an hour,” Duke mutters, “This sucks. My head’s going to burst like balloon and my eyes are about to fall out.”

“Yikes. You know, you could have just canceled for today. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Duke sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “Maybe, but I would have minded. We barely see each other anymore, man. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” Danny bites his lip, trying and failing to stop from smiling. Something soft in his chest glows at the words, a growing spark of happiness in knowing that for this, at least, the feeling is requited. It’s nice to hear that he was missed, and it would be even nicer if Duke wasn’t in pain, pushing himself just because he didn’t want to cancel. Carefully, Danny reaches for him and pulls his hands away from his face. “Here,” he says, “Let me.”

His hands are always cold. Most of him is cold, really — side effect of having an ice core. Sam told him once that his hands were better than an ice pack, and he’s hoping she’s right or this is going to be weird.

Danny gently presses his fingers against Duke’s temples, his hands cradling Duke’s face. Duke is tense for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxes, leaning into Danny’s hands.

“Is this helping?” he asks, voice hushed to keep from aggravating Duke’s migraine.

“Mhm. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke goes completely limp, leaning against Danny. They sit there for a minute in silence, the rest of the world feeling far away. As nice as it is to just exist together, he knows what Duke needs most right now is quiet and stillness. Gotham is very much not that, and every honking car that passes by makes Duke wince, trying to turn away from the road even more.

“Hey, let’s head back to my place. It’s close by, and a lot quieter than out here.”

“Are you sure? I know we planned to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade can wait. You’re more important.”

Duke blinks open his eyes and looks at Danny with something soft in his gaze. Being so close together, barely any space between them, with Duke looking at him like that makes Danny’s cheeks flush red, unable to think anything but please kiss me.

Which is never going to happen. Duke is his friend, and just his friend, no matter how much Danny wishes they could be something more. It’s a pipe dream, something so impossible it’s almost laughable.

Duke likes being friends with normal human Danny. He doesn’t want to imagine how he would react if he found out about Danny being half ghost, assuming this imaginary reveal happens without Danny being hunted down and cut open by GIW agents.

He’s still in hiding, always waiting for the worst as he stays in the apartment his friends (living and dead) had set up for him. The building is for ghosts so it technically doesn’t exists, which means it’s the safest place for Danny while he’s actively being hunted by the US government.

He can’t be honest with Duke. Can’t be as close to him as he wants to be. Duke deserves more than to be dragged into Danny’s problems and put in danger.

Even so, Danny can’t help but want him around, pushing his luck each time they hang out.

“Come on,” Danny urges, standing up. He pulls his hands away and Duke’s brow immediately furrows, his pain returning. “It’s only a few streets away.”

Duke sighs, then visibly braces himself before he stands up. Danny tucks himself into Duke’s side, taking as much of his weight as he can as he walks them down the street. It’s times like these that he wishes he could reveal his powers safely and just fly them to his apartment. But even without the GIW gunning for his head, showing off powers in Gotham is a sure fire way to get a target painted on his back.

“Almost there,” he says as they turn a corner.

His apartment doesn’t have a fixed address. It doesn’t have a fixed location at all, drifting around, but it likes this street the most, so this is where it usually is. Danny takes them halfway down the street, then turns into an alley, following his ghost sense.

Where there’s usually a dead end is instead a building, looking as if it’s always been tucked away in this alley. Danny keeps a tight grip on Duke as they climb the front steps, silently asking for the building to let him stay while he’s with Danny. The door opens easily, which is as good as an agreement, and they’re inside without anything going wrong. The small entrance lobby is empty, with an area for packages filled with clearly magical artifacts carelessly wrapped in bubble wrap.

Danny drags them past that quickly, hoping Duke doesn’t notice, and calls the elevator down. It arrives silently, the doors opening to let another tenant out. Carefully, Danny positions himself in front of Duke, making sure he doesn’t see how the tenant, who nods at Danny, has a still bleeding wound in his stomach that has him nearly split in half.

“Alright,” he says, ushering Duke into the elevator, “Just a little ride up and then you can lay down.” He hits the button for the fourth floor and they ride up in silence, Duke dropping his head down to onto Danny’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stands behind Danny. He’s glad Duke can’t see his face; there’s no doubt that he’s blushing like crazy and if that doesn’t give away his feelings, he doesn’t know what will.

Thankfully the elevator ride isn’t long. If Danny had to go for more than a minute with Duke breathing softly against his neck, his warm hands on his stomach, Danny would have collapsed into a pile of flustered goo.

He opens the door to his apartment and kicks his shoes off. Duke follows in suit, still plastered onto Danny’s back, refusing to let go.

“Come on,” Danny says, leading him to the couch, “Sit down and I’ll grad you some water and painkillers.”

Duke nods against his shoulder, then slowly detaches himself from Danny and makes his way to the couch. He drops onto it gracelessly, pressing his face into a cushion.

Danny winces. He must be feeling really bad. He knows how bad migraines can be with sleep deprivation, having suffered through high school with only a few hours of sleep at night, if he got to sleep at all. Frankly, it’s a testament to Duke’s strength that he lasted the entire walk to Danny’s apartment without complaint.

He returns to the living room with a full glass of water and a bottle of Advil, setting them on the coffee table to crouch next to the couch and place a cold hand on Duke’s cheek. “Hey,” he says softly when Duke turns to look at him, “Is Advil alright? It’s all I had.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke sits up and shakes out three pills, then washes them down with water. He drains the rest of the cup quickly, then falls back against the couch with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Duke immediately reaches a hand out for him.

“Um?”

“Sit next to me. I feel better when I’m next to you.”

“Oh! Alright. Bet you’re only saying that because my hands are cold.”

“You caught me,” Duke laughs, pulling Danny onto the couch. He goes easily, tucking his legs beneath himself, and places his hands on Duke’s temples again. “Man, I owe you my life.”

“I don’t think my cold hands are worth quite that much.”

Duke hums, but doesn’t say anything else, so Danny settles in and focuses on keeping his hands a little colder than normal.

The apartment is quiet. No sound from outside can reach them, one of the few ways the building looks after its tenants. Danny and Duke fall against each other, at ease with each other. There’s no need to fill in the silence, and with Duke’s eyes closed, Danny doesn’t have to carefully shove down his feelings and act normal. He indulges in the warmth of Duke’s body pressed against his, a hand on his knee and an arm around his waist.

He keeps his hands as steady as possible as he looks over Duke, adoring all the little details he can see; a small scar on his chin, the fullness of his lips, the way his hair falls into his face now that it’s long enough to keep in braids.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Duke murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

You’re cute, he thinks, I feel safe with you. I want to kiss you. I wish I could be brave enough to be honest.

I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave.

“Nothing,” he says. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I might fall asleep though.”

“That’s fine. You know I would never say no to a nap.”

“Come here, then,” Duke says, and before Danny can do anything, Duke gets a stronger grip on his waist and pulls Danny down on top of him as he falls back towards the arm rest and gets his legs on the couch.

“Duke!”

Duke laughs underneath him, and Danny can feel it roll through him. Okay! This is definitely something he’s going to think about… forever. Wow, he can feel Duke’s abs tense up as he laughs, and has he always been ripped? Unfair. Also unfairly hot.

“Is this alright?” Duke asks, voice soft and quiet. There’s a hesitancy around his words that Danny doesn’t like hearing, and he brings his hands down to sweep his thumbs soothingly over Duke’s cheeks.

“Of course it is, man. I’d never refuse cuddles.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pass out now. Wake me in an hour?”

Danny moves his hands back up to his temples and says, “Sure. Get some rest, Duke. You really need it.”

He feels Duke relax beneath him, breaths slowing down as he begins to fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet and Duke is warm in a way Danny never can be with his ice core. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but curled up on the couch with Duke in the safety of an apartment that only barely exists has him drifting off in no time at all.

. . .

(Duke wakes up before Danny. Their legs are tangled together and Duke has moved during his sleep, turning so Danny is held tightly to his chest, his back to the cushions, while Duke is balancing very carefully at the edge of the couch.

It’s been hours, and he should be heading home soon, but he stays as he is, enjoying this quiet moment for as long as he can have it. Danny is in his arms, safe and content with him, his head no longer hurts beyond a residual ache he can easily ignore, and he can admire how pretty Danny is without being worried about Danny catching his lingering stares.

These moments are precious to him, rare as they are, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Danny once he’s awake and let his feelings be known.

But the Signal has lots of dangerous people after him, and Gnomon has started causing problems in Gotham again. So he’ll bite his tongue and keep his less platonic feelings buried under lock and key until it’s safe enough for Danny to be around him more often.

And when that time comes, he can only hope that Danny will feel the same way.

That’s all far away from the stillness of Danny’s apartment. All that matters is that he has Danny in his arms. Everything else can wait.

For now, this is more than enough.)

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dpxdc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #once again unable to resist the urge to write abt living buildings #duke and danny are pining no stop bc they're both like 'this is a bad time for a relationship/i have to keep too many secrets' etc etc #while also cuddling and going on dates that they dont call dates out loud and sighing wistfully when they think of each other #taking what small things they can while trying to hide their feelings....#some other batfam member is going to stumble upon them in public and chat a bit w dukes friend #then walk away texting the group chat like 'hey duke and his friend are madly in love but too shy/stupid to do something abt it.#lets play cupid lol' and then theyre all trying to get duke and danny together #it gets to the point that every time they hang out it ends with them doing some nonsense to escape the batfam and their kind but unhinged #attempts to get them together #thanks for the prompt!!!

426 notes · View notes

jakegasm · 1 year

Text

again. | jake sully

genre: angst ♧ (sorry but i’m a whore for angst)

pairing: jake sully x omatikaya!reader (mentions of neytiri)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: a few swear words(maybe), betrayal (if you want to count that as a warning), and just pure heartbreak

brief info: you are the younger sister of neytiri, always living in her shadow. your parents glorifying the things she accomplished, leaving you in the dust. until a certain dream walker comes along making you feel like you were living a dream, but sadly all dreams do not come true.

notes: i’ve been obsessed with sad songs and I thought why not start off with some broken hearts. enjoy! :)

part 2!

Maite: my daughter

Laughter.

That’s all you heard as you found yourself lost in your thoughts again, your heart sinking deeper and deeper into your stomach as you watched them. The way they laughed with one another, the way their hands landed on top of the other's thigh when one said something funny, or the way he looked in awe as she laughed. Your stomach twisted at the sight.

“Maite, you are quiet.” your head snapped towards the sound of your mother, Mo’at, blinking back into reality, scanning your parents' hut as you all ate dinner together your eyes stopping briefly on him. “Yes, you have been very quiet since we started dinner.” your older sister, Neytiri, interjected sharing the same concerned look as your mother.

“I am fine.” you said softly making sure you shot your mother a sad but convincing smile before dropping your head down towards your hands that rested in your lap, your fingers suddenly becoming very interesting. “I am just not hungry tonight.” you added on as your head still hung low, swallowing hard as a familiar lump started to form in your throat.

“You did not eat this morning either, child. Are you feeling unwell?” Yes. Yes, you were. Your heart was feeling unwell. You had to sit with your family watching as the man who saved you from the shadows of your sister…fall in love with her and not you. It was never you. As much as you were used to it, you still couldn’t get over the fire that started in your chest or the way you could feel your heart break little by little any time he was around.

“No. No mother I am fine.” you cleared your throat to cover up the quiver that shook your voice a little as you spoke. Blinking rapidly you tried your best to get rid of the tears that threatened to spill. “Mother? May I be excused?” the quiver in your voice much clearer than before, causing your mothers’ interest to rise in your sudden sadness. “Yes, you may.” you wasted no time rising to your feet, slightly bowing toward your mother and the couple across from you. “Thank you for dinner mother. I will see you in the morning.” you rushed out before darting your way out of your mothers’ hut just quick enough before she noticed the tears that had formed in your eyes.

Tears blurred your vision, yet you still tried to blink them away as much as possible. Carefully you hopped from one tree branch to the other, safely climbing down to the one place you truly felt like you belonged. The tree of voices.

The purple hue illuminated brightly as you walked through, hands brushing against the vines as you made your way to your usual spot. Slowly you sat down, closing your eyes you took a deep breath taking note of the crispy air that surrounded you. You felt it. The silence consumed you and you felt something in you finally break, sending the tears that had threatened to spill finally overflowing onto your face. Your body slightly shook as you sobbed, your mind racing with the images of your sister and the man you were in love with. Their smiles at each other, the small exchanges they’d give each other their eyes filled with adoration, it was all too much. Too much to bear.

“Oh great mother, please.” you sharply took in a breath as you spoke, “Please stop this pain. I do not wish to be in pain anymore.” you cried out, you clamped your hand down on your mouth to prevent the loud sobs that started to leak past your lips, hoping to drown out how loud you actually were. What did you do in your life to be caused so much heartache? Was Eywa punishing you? Haven’t you been punished enough? You lived in your sister's shadow, always being pushed to the back as your sister was praised for all her accomplishments. You understood though. Your sister has always been the golden child. She had the beauty, the brains, the empathy, all of the things to be a perfect daughter. And you? Oh, you were just her younger sister, training to be a tsahik like their mother. Though that was never praised upon when it came to you. You were never in the eye of praise.

Crunching leaves quickly broke you out of your fits of sobs, snapping your head towards the sound. Your breathing struggled to steady as you carefully observed the area of the noise, eyes moving frantically until they stopped on a tall figure approaching closer. The figure became clearer as they stepped into the purple hue of the tree causing that sickening feeling in your stomach to return. “You okay?” he spoke to you, his voice soft and concerned. You said nothing, turning your attention toward the small stream that rushed in front of you. With a grunt, he sat down next to you his attention was also on the stream, neither of you spoke. The quietness surrounding you turned awkward, scrunching his eyebrows he searched for something to talk about.

“Why are you here?” your voice broke out, sounding so dry yet filled with so much emotion. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it as he realized he didn’t know why. “Did my sister send you?” again your voice spoke, only this time he noticed the hint of sadness that lingered on every word. Shaking his head, he let out a soft sigh, “No. No she didn’t. I came here all on my own.” he pushed out finally turning his head towards you only to find you already looking at him. Your eyes are slightly puffy with the evidence of dried-up tears on your face, they looked at him full of sadness. Full of pain. Though a small smile broke out on your face snapping him away from your eyes. “My hero. Coming to save the day once again.” you joked turning your eyes away from him once more leaving him to stare at the side of your face, watching as he saw your face fall once more. Your ears pointed downwards pressing against your head, your tail swatting softly among the grass underneath you both. Knees brought up to your chest, you rested your chin upon your knees.

He watched you. Closely this time. The cool night air blew gently, blowing your hair away from your face, leaving the two braids that resided on the side of your face untouched. He found himself admiring the way your hair looked as the wind blew, your hair cascading down your arms hanging loosely with a few braids thrown here and there decorated with colorful beads. He always noticed how your hair was rarely braided, your reasoning being that your mother was too rough and Neytiri always took too long so you always opted out of the braiding process. Watching attentively he noticed one of your braids had fallen into your face, before allowing you to realize the fallen hair he quickly found himself reaching a hand out, gently pushing and locking the braid behind your drooped ear. The sudden gesture shocked you, your eyes widened snapping to his expecting the same reaction you held, though you were met with different ones.

His eyes were soft, just as soft as the smile he wore on his lips his teeth just barely showing. “You know…your hair is really beautiful.” your heart picked up its pace, your eyes desperately searching his waiting for him to admit he was joking, though it never came. You couldn’t form any words to say back, only his were rapidly repeated through your mind.

Beautiful.

Though it was a small gesture it still made your heart flutter, but as quickly it fluttered it turned into a sharp pain as you remembered him and your sister. You shook your head as if you were trying to shake his recent words out of your mind. You looked towards the sky this time, watching the stars as they glistened and twinkled so tenderly.

“You shouldn’t say that to someone who is not your mate.” Your statement confused him, furrowing his eyebrows he looked off to the side. Did he say something wrong? He didn’t think he did. Your voice brought him out of his thoughts and back to you, though you were still looking up toward the sky.

“You must return home. My sister must be worried about you.”

“She’s a big girl. She’ll be fine…You know…” he started waiting for your eyes to land on his, and when they did he continued. “You never answered my question.” Though you thought the sudden hitch in your breathing wasn’t that loud, he heard it. He heard how shaky it was as you inhaled and exhaled, controlling the familiar feeling of tightness in your chest.

“I am fine.” Your answer irritated him a bit. You were lying and he knew it. You bit your lip to stop it from quivering and showing him that you were about to crumble all over again by the small question.

“The truth. I want to know how you’re really feeling.” He pushed, his body now turned fully towards you. His hand came to rest gently atop your shoulder, you felt like your body had been engulfed in flames when he touched you, you even contemplated throwing yourself into the stream to cool off. Instead, you shrugged off his hand standing.

“I told you. I am fine.” He shook his head not believing you. Not even a little bit.

“Nah, someone who is “fine” doesn’t cry the way you just were a few moments ago.”

You were caught and you knew it. He knew he caught you in your lie as well, noticing how you bit onto your lip harder, your hands balled up at your sides. Your face contorted, and that's when he saw it clear as day. He saw the way gravity drove down your shoulders painting a picture of your heart as if neither it nor your soul would welcome a beat. He saw it in your eyes that your brain has built some new walls with you so lonely on the other side. Wondering if you'll give him a chance to help you take them down brick by brick.

“That is none of your concern.” Your voice spoke harshly, though he knew you were trying to prevent yourself from crying again. He stood along with you his body towering over your smaller one he approached you cautiously, something he had learned to do in fear of getting hit like the many times he had been by Neytiri. His hands were out in front of him reaching to rest a comforting hand on you once again until you jerked away from him.

“Hey, hey I mean no harm. I just want to know what’s wrong.” He defended himself by throwing his hands in a surrender position.

“You! You are what is wrong Jake Sully!” You snapped. And like before, he was confused. You were upset because of him? His mind raced with all the possible reasons why you were upset with him. Was it because he was taking your sister away from you? Yeah. Yeah, that had to be the reason.

Clearing his throat he spoke, “Okay…Okay, I get it. This is about my relationship with your sister.” You felt like time had stopped. He knew? He knew and he let you suffer for so long? The sadness that once rested within you quickly turned into anger, your breathing picking up.

“I know. I get it. And I'm sorry about the way things are going but-”

“You knew?”

“Yes. I–I mean no. No, I just realized it now. I haven’t always known this and please listen to me when I say that I, deeply and greatly do apologize for any pain that I have caused you. And that I can understand why you are so upset with me.”

Sorry? He was sorry? He watched you suffer every day and yet did nothing to help mend your heart. Yes, this was very selfish of you to think but you didn’t care.

“You. Are not sorry. If you were, you would have helped me. Helped me to understand this heartbreak and how I could get over this—this stupid feeling.” You spoke, your accent leaking through certain words.

“You do not care for me like I thought you did. Your heart is strong yet it is ill. So ill.”

What in the world were you going on about? He thought. He thought this was about Neytiri and him. He brought his gaze to the ground searching it hoping an answer would be written into the glowing grass where they stood.

And then it hit him. Hard. His eyes widened at the realization, his mouth a gape, quickly looking into yours that had welled up with thick tears. You were breaking, your knees threatening to give out beneath you.

“No…No, no that can’t be.” Was all he could manage to get out of his mouth, his mind now racing rapidly. It was now all making sense. Your early dismissal from the dinners he shared with your family, the sad look in your eyes whenever he caught you looking at him, avoiding your sister when asked to tag along on an outing only to turn down the offer when his name was mentioned. It all made sense now.

Your heart was breaking by the second. This was a moment you’ve always wanted to happen, though it wasn’t going how you hoped and imagined. There were no hugs filled with so much warmth, no kisses that were shared, and no feelings that were reciprocated. All you were met with was a blank stare and eyes that pitied you, he was trying to figure out how to let you down gently, you thought.

You weren’t about to stand here and wait for that though. You were hurting enough.

You rushed past him, your feet moving quickly enough to get away from him. You didn’t make it far though. His hand gripped your arm firmly but not hard enough to hurt you, he waited for your eyes but they never came.

“I can’t do this to your sister.” His voice came out as much as a whisper. You chewed on your lip, your lip probably raw by now with how much you gnawed on it tonight. “I know. That is why I am not asking anything of you.” You swallowed down a sob that dared to escape your lips.

“You are not mine, Jake. You never will be. I understand that.” Peering ever so slightly over your shoulder you gave him the best smile you could muster up, “Besides, Eywa makes no mistakes.” his grip loosened slightly hearing that his own ears now drooping flushing against his head. You slipped your arm out of his hold continuing your original route daring not to look back, finally letting the tears that threatened to escape go. It was settled. He will never be yours nor you his.

Your sister won.

Again.

_______________________________________

WOO, that was a doozy. It hurt but like I said im a whore for this kind of stuff lol, so its a good hurt. I hope you all enjoyed and hurt just as much as I did! Much love !

angel <3

#avatar fanfiction #avatar twow #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully angst #avatar angst #neytiri #neteyam #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #loak sully

2K notes · View notes

casualhedonists · 3 months

Text

into the mist, into the clouds

pairing: lucy gray x fem!reader

words: 3.5k

warnings: very few; fluff, angst, mystery and intrigue etc, post tbosas lucy gray

playlist for this fic • main masterlist

a/n: my first non-smut fic on here! title from carolina by taylor swift, which this fic is very much based on. this is one of my favorite things i've written in a very long time. enjoy 🤍

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

“You didn’t see me here.”

Whispered words fill the space between you. Your head rests in her lap, dress crisp and clean and smelling like you, like your home. She looks at you with a sense of urgency, one you’ve seen all too many times before.

“What? Lucy Gray, you’re not…”

She can’t be leaving again. She only just arrived. The morning had brought dew and her muddied boots on your porch for the first time in months. Your mother was gone for the day, it was almost like Lucy Gray had known. Her dress was covered in dirt and grass stains. You piled it into a hamper, washed it in the fresh water of the creek down the hill from your house, scrubbing away while she collected firewood.

“I am. Tomorrow. Dawn.”

“Let me come with you.”

“It’s not safe, my love. I can keep myself protected if I’m alone. I’m startin’ to get real good at it.”

You don’t ask if she’d come back. Neither of you ever know the answer to that.

“Will you do something for me, Lucy Gray?”

Your voice drops. The fire crackles, the pine cones you’d collected together popping as they burn. She likes the sound, she told you. It was safe, comforting. Homely. You’d wondered if she was really talking about the fire, or you, the girl who sat with her in its warmth.

“Anything. You know I will.”

“Would you leave before I wake up? I’m not sure I can say goodbye to you again.”

She smiles, soft and sad, and gazes at you like you’re a song, or something she wants to memorise.

“Of course I will. It’ll be like I never came back here at all.”

The glow of the flames dance across her face.

“I don’t want that.” You whisper. “I hate feeling like you’re slipping away from me.”

She lowers her head to yours, your foreheads touch. You hear the smile in her voice.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You’ve learned not to waste your time in tears, when she’s going to leave. There are better ways to spend those last moments, eyes dry and focused on tracing the lines of her face, committing it to memory for the last time in who knows how long. You sit up, curling into her, pressing your lips to hers, her hair still damp and smelling like the bar of soap you’d lent her when you fixed her a bath, your pruned fingertips massaging her scalp as the water began to cool. You make it to bed, sleeping soundly with her arms around you.

True to her word, she leaves in the morning. Leaving no trace, no proof she was ever there in the first place. But you feel the warmth of the sheets next to you, and you know.

She finds you the next summer.

“Don’t move.”

You freeze, long grass up to your knees, long skirt swishing as you wade through the field, sun blaring down on you.

A pair of warm hands press softly over your eyes.

“You’re back.” You beam, spinning around, taking her head in your hands, eyes shut, just listening to her breathing. You press your lips to hers.

“I sure am.” When you break away to take her in, look at her sunkissed face, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her smile wider. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she got more beautiful every time you saw her.

You lie sun-drunk in the shade of the tall grass, lazing against each other as you go over your birthday, the village gossip, and she listens. Always listening, drinking up your words like she’s parched.

You’ve learned not to ask Lucy Gray where she’s been hiding, you both know it’s safer the less gets said. But she presses on, ever gentle, asking you for details when you fill her in on your life.

You jump at a movement in the grass beside you, but she just laughs. Picks up the snake, humming as it wraps and twists itself around her hand.

“These ones won’t hurt you, darlin’. They’re docile, see? Wouldn’t harm a fly.”

She lifts the snake to you slowly.

“You’re sure?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.” You reply instantly, like you’ve waited your whole life to hear the question.

“Then hold out your hand.”

You reach out.

“Close your eyes.”

You do. After a second, you feel hers, pressing into your palm, and an oddly warm sensation, smooth.

“It feels… dry.”

You open your eyes. The snake twists and drapes between the two of you, loosely binding your hand with Lucy Gray’s, holding you together.

She laughs, bright and sweet, like music.

“Well, what were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.” You confess. “Maybe for it to be wet? Slippery?”

Her laughter chimes through the field, a low gust of winding carrying it away. You stay like that for a few more hours, until night begins to fall, and the summer wind carries her away, too.

A year passes. Then another half.

Your mother gets older; she gets sick. You venture outside the bounds in twelve, slipping under the rusted wire fence with a basket, collecting herbs you’d started to read about but couldn’t afford. You make tinctures, teas, you light incense and fill the house with sprigs of rosemary and thyme. It slows down the sickness that tore through her like wildfire. When she passes, it’s beautifully peaceful, like a candle being blown out. You carry her ashes to the lake and you spread them, lingering by the Covey’s cabin. Hoping.

She doesn’t come. You walk home, humming something you think you remember her singing years ago. You start to wonder if she was just something you dreamt up, an old folk song you sing to yourself each night before you fell asleep.

Spring rolls around, and your empty house gathers dust. Your way with herbs and remedies gets around, starting with a few bottles gifted to a neighbour with influenza. Her granddaughter comes to your doorstep with the empty vial and a bag of potatoes. You smile and thank her.

“Are you a witch?” She asks, barely ten years old and looking up at you with dark, mistrusting eyes. You laugh.

“I’m not too sure about that, hon. Did the herbs help?”

She nods, a frown etched along her features.

“Then perhaps I’m a good one.”

Before you know it, word gets around that you cured the old woman. You make a living collecting herbs, crushing them down, and people line up outside your door most days. You find a slice of peace in it, in the routine.

But winter is cruel, and the house turns cold. The house that was once the perfect size for you and your mother now feels like too much money and work to heat, and things start breaking, and leaking. You hear from your cousin in Seven, you’ve inherited a log cabin and a slice of land on the edge of some woods from a great-aunt you never met.

You weigh your options. You go to the lake and skim stones in the icy water, mulling it over.

To leave Twelve is everyone’s dream. But Lucy Gray. The gentle ghost who lingers over your shoulder. How will she find you, if she ever comes back? You can’t stay here waiting forever. One bad frost kills your crops, the chill sets into your bones, and you make up your mind. You pack up your herbs and bottles, your books and your clothes, the pinecone you keep beneath your pillow, the silver snake bracelet she gave you many years ago, and you leave. A simple, smudged note sits under the plant pot on the porch, your old hiding place for the spare house key where she’ll know to look:

I’m in the trees. Come find me.

District Seven has more trees than you’ve ever seen. Twelve is known for it’s forests and fields, but these woods are expansive, spanning over miles, trees lined up perfectly, the smell of freshly chopped wood filling your senses.

Every step you took made you wonder if Lucy Gray been here, if the birds in these trees had heard her saccharine voice.

Your herbs sell a lot better in Seven. It’s enough to buy new clothes, and the village is better kept. The people are kind, warm and friendly. You can finally afford to eat your fill. Your cabin at the edge of the woods stays warm and comfortable, the wood is plentiful, you chop your own from the land that’s now yours.

Sometimes when your head spins from the weight of the axe you see movement in the woods, and you wonder. Sometimes you peer inside, certain that it’s her. But she feels so far away from you now, that you can’t help but feel you’ve abandoned her.

You take walks through the forests; you whistle to the birds and listen for the ones who might sing back. You hear nothing. One day, in the town, you walk by a window display with an old, beat-up guitar. It looks well-loved, and something draws you to it. Faded gold paint around the sound hole, strings messy but you go inside and barter, and take it home with you.

You hum some of the old songs she used to sing, try to piece together chords on the strings that aren’t snapped. It sounds like a mess but you play anyway. It feels like a piece of her that you want to keep close to you. You’ve learned to become a collector of sorts.

You’re kept warm through winter, and spring fades into summer. You take the little fishing boat that came with the cabin out on the river, and hike through the forest. You take your guitar with you, and one day, finally, you hear it.

A mockingjay.

It sings your broken tune back to you, bouncing through the pines. A smooth voice cuts through the birdsong.

“Did you miss me?”

Lucy Gray.

Your head spins around. And there she is, smiling, and you fall into her arms.

“I was so scared. I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I know. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I would either.”

“But you’re here, you found me! My note, I didn’t know if…”

“The trees.” She grins. “District Seven. It made perfect sense, my love.”

“I can’t believe you’re here. Lucy Gray, you don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

“Oh, I think I do. If you think for a second you’re alone in that, you couldn’t be more wrong. Now,” she adds, nodding at the guitar, “what do we have here?”

You take her onto the river, safer in Seven than you’d ever been in Twelve. She watches as you grind up lavender, the smell filling up the cabin, fascinated as you explain the hobby that you’d turned into work. She fixes your guitar strings, teaches you some simple chords. You sit on the porch, playing while she sings.

“It suits you here, you know.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” She pauses. “I was so sorry to hear about your ma. She was a good woman. She was always kind to me. To everyone.”

“Thank you. I’m okay now, really. I like it here. It’s quiet, peaceful. I think that’s what she’d want for me.”

When she stares up at the sky, birds soaring up above, the rush of the wind through the trees, you can’t help but ask. This is all so perfect, and after so long you can’t bear the thought of her leaving again.

“Do you know how long…”

She smiles.

“Maybe a day or two? If that’s okay.”

You can’t hide your grin. You nod, and she glances up at you.

“Of course that’s okay. More than okay.”

Her fingers press over yours as she demonstrates a final chord. She sits behind you as you strum, grinning at her, head spinning around and she’s so close, it’s almost surreal.

“You did it!” She’s beautiful. Vivid like a daydream, all technicolor.

“That’s all of it?”

“That’s all of it. Just play those four over again and you’ve got yourself a song.”

Your fingers intertwine, hand slipping from the guitar.

“Thank you for teaching me.” You whisper with a smile.

“You’ll remember it, won’t you?” There’s a solemness to it.

You frown.

“Of course I will. I’ll practice all the time.”

“You promise?” Her voice is desperate.

You slide the guitar to the floor and take her hand in yours, clasping it to your chest. Eyes making a silent oath.

“I won’t forget, Lucy Gray. I promise you.”

She nods, corners of her mouth turning up into a smile. You sigh.

“You know I’ve kept everything, don’t you? All of it. Everything I have that reminds me of you.”

“I saw the pinecone on the mantelpiece. Was that from-”

“The time we made the fire in 12? Yeah.”

She lights up.

“You’re such a romantic. I love it. You-”

Your lips press to hers, suddenly overcome with emotion. When you pull away, she sees the tears on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” You cry. “I really didn’t, and… I don’t want you to leave, I-”

Her wide eyes fill with apology.

“I know. I wish I didn’t have to leave, sugar. I’m sorry it took me so long this time. I wish I could tell you how much it hurts to be away. It feels like I never really rest, until I’m back with you. Does that make sense?”

You nod, blinking away your tears.

“Will you do something for me, my love?” She presses, soft hands brushing away your tears.

“Anything.”

“Until tomorrow, can we pretend I’m not leaving? Pretend like this is our normal. Like we’ve got all the time in the world.”

You close your eyes, then look at her again, just as quickly, not wanting to waste a precious second.

“All the time in the world.” You whisper back.

True to your word, you make the most of it. She leaves you the next morning. You say a proper goodbye this time, holding her like you’ll never let go. But you do.

Weeks stretch on and you can feel her slipping away again. The birds ease the pain, singing her pretty melodies back to you, like a worn-out record you’ve played on repeat. You throw the windows and doors open, filling the house with summer’s balmy air and the sound of her voice bouncing through the rooms as if she was still there. But soon enough, they forget her dulcet notes, and you’re alone with yourself again.

You track the time through seasons, like you always have. The summer draws to a bittersweet close, and you miss it before it’s fully gone.

You slip back into your routine. You take the boat out alone. The schoolchildren sneak up to your door at times, you hear them whispering. The witch rumours are back in full swing but you don’t mind them. You think it rather suits you. You open the door, much to their horror, and offer them some cookies. They come dutifully back for more on Saturdays, and you appreciate the bit of company.

You keep your promise, and it keeps her alive. You practice the chords she taught you, rough calluses starting to form on your fingers. You trace them at night when the world gets too quiet, and as winter closes in again it gets quieter still. The birds fly away to escape the cold, and you wonder if out there somewhere, she might see them. You find yourself praying the winter isn’t being too cruel to her, wherever she is.

One day, at the market, you’re sat at your stall selling chamomile and sage tea, and you hear her name, like a question in someone’s voice. They remember. They remember her. Your heart swells. You want to scream at the top of your lungs, it’s her. She is the girl you love.

She appears more and more in your dreams, some nights you’re restless, dreaming of her scared, running from something in a dark forest, sometimes you’re there by her side. Other times you wake with a start thinking she’s knocking at your door. You sprint outside into the darkness, barefoot on the damp grass, turning in circles before you catch your breath.

You could make yourself some valerian root tea as a remedy, but you don’t. You don’t mind her living on through your dreams. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

You’re comforted by this haunting.

She finds you again. She always does.

“I saw the Covey a few months ago.” You tell her, the first night you spend together, lay in your bed, arms and legs a tangled mess, her hand in your hair.

Her eyes light up.

“Did you really? Close to here?”

You nod.

“They weren’t here for long. I’m not sure they recognised me, I was at the back of the room. It was pretty dark.”

Her eyes are wistful, filled with something you think you understand now.

“It all feels like so long ago, doesn’t it? I forget sometimes, just how long it’s been.” She looks to the floor. “And Maude Ivory – was she there? How’d she look?”

“She was.” You grin. “She looked happy. Healthy. She was smiling and dancing the whole night, like she always used to.”

You pause for a second, wondering if you should go back, mention that she, much like you, must still have an emptiness, a gap in her life even after all these years, but it’s like Lucy Gray reads your mind. Always one step ahead.

“That’s good.” She says decidedly. “It’s all I ever wanted for her. To be happy. Free. Thank you for telling me. I… I think about them a lot. About all of it. But I always hoped they’d move on without me.”

You’re quiet when you speak again.

“Lucy Gray, I don’t think anyone could ever move on from you.”

It lingers in the air. You speak up again.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course you can.”

“When I saw them that night, I stayed for the whole set, because… well, it’s silly,” you confess, “I couldn’t stop watching. I kept thinking that you’d show up. Like they’d just announce your name and they’d all cheer like they did in Twelve. Like you would get up there and sing, and see me in the crowd, and just… smile. Like you’d asked me to be there that night.”

It’s back again, that wistful look of hers.

“I sure wish I had been, sugar. But I think I’d rather be here with you than up on that stage, these days.”

Warmth fills your chest. “Yeah?”

She takes a breath.

“It’s important that people forget me. It’s safer this way. I don’t know what they’d do if they found me, but I know for certain I don’t plan to find out. Maybe one day… well, we’ll have to see. But for now, I could stay a little longer. Would that be okay? If I stayed until the week ends?”

Stay forever, you want to say. But you nod, holding her like she’s already gone.

When she leaves, it’s too soon. Always too soon. You stand in front of the cabin, wishing you could mold your hand around hers and never let go. You kiss her goodbye.

“You didn’t see me here.” She whispers against your lips.

“Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” You respond, and her lips turn into a half-smile.

“Now. Close your eyes.”

You press them shut, feeling her hands slip from yours. When you open them, she’s gone again.

As the years go by, you stop hearing the name Lucy Gray altogether. She starts to feel more like a folk tale; a messy, ink splashed cursive on old parchment. You yearn to speak of her, to keep her legacy alive, but you can’t. You don’t. You remember, though. The world could forget about Lucy Gray Baird, but your memory of her lived on like a still-beating heart, and in turn it kept her alive. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t keep you alive, too.

You make quite the name for yourself, your apothecary bringing in customers from across Seven, sometimes further. So much so, that sometimes you wonder if when she passes through Twelve or Seven, she hears about you and remembers, counting down the days until she gets to come home.

She still haunts your dreams, slipping away as soon as you wake up. But she’ll come back. No matter how many times she leaves. Wherever you go, she’ll find you. She could go anywhere in the world, but she’ll always come back home to you. And you’ll be waiting for her, even if the world curses her name, even if the Covey forgets her too. You understand now. She’s as much yours as you are hers. And when she comes home, it’ll always feel like she never left. And that’s enough for you. It was always enough.

You leave your porch light on.

taglist: (i'm just gonna tag people who showed interest in the excerpt/might like this!) @etfrin @darby-rowe @ohstardew @ohmeadows @sabrinasbd @ctrlovertheworld

#mimi writes! 🕊️#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray x you #lucy gray baird x you #the hunger games x reader #tbosas x reader #thg tbosas #the hunger games fanfiction #x reader #x you #x you fluff #x you angst #reader insert #itmitc

221 notes · View notes

azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Note

Hi, I absolutely love everything you write 😭 So I wanted to ask for something, if you're interested ❤️‍🔥 The request in question would see Azriel partner with a twin sister of Eris Vanserra. The plot I had come up with (feel free to change it to your liking) was that bed grew up with Eris, obviously, but Beron ordered Eris to kill her sister to eliminate doubts about who would be Autumn's heir after Beron, because he obviously didn't want to take the risk of a woman sitting on the throne. Eris obviously didn't kill her sister, but left her hidden in the forest and She always grew up alone. Until the marriage proposal between Eris and Morrigan arrives, and Morrigan, fleeing the arranged marriage, finds Eris's sister in the forest and threatens to hand her over to Beron. if Eris doesn't let her leave. And so Eris makes the deal and frees Morrigan (as we saw Az going to get her). Feel free to create how Az finds it. And I would love it if you didn't write a mean Eris, because I really like him 😭 and I think he would be a kind brother to his twin sister 😭❤️‍🔥

Sorry if this was too long or the story didn't please you, or it was confusing, I'm using the translator, so there must be an error. Sorry 💗💗

Trapped mate.

Azriel x f!Vanserra!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; mentions of death, blood and abuse.

Thank you! I hope this is what you had in mind! Feel free to send more requests I really enjoyed this one.

Everyone believed that Lucien was abused and despised by Beron because he probably wasn’t his son, and they were wrong it sure was one of the reasons but not the main one. The main one was that Beron was/is a horrible creature filled with hatred and malice and you were the living proof of that. You are Beron’s daughter and yet he despises you. You were born one minute later than Eris, and the moment the healer announced “female” Beron’s smile turned into a scowl and he left the room without one glance at you. Growing up he never showed you any interest and this resulted to you clinging onto Eris. Your brother became the only male idol in your life. You did everything together, he was the only one who gave you affection and love and you knew that he would risk his life for you, as a matter of fact he already did it 124 years ago when Beron realized that you were a possible heir to his throne and freaked out ordering Eris to take you in the forest on a ‘hunting trip’ and kill you, then say that you had an accident. You knew your father, he could order anyone else to do this, but he wanted to toughen Eris up, he wanted to make Eris like him -a monster. But your brother was and still is good and he loves you more than his own self, he says that you are his other half, the light in his soul. So, he took you to the forest and hid you in a cabin he owned there, and found a witch to cast a spell so no one could ever find the cabin. You grew up there alone, Eris would visit you once a month because he didn’t want to raise suspicions if he frequently disappeared, and Beron watching him like a hawk since he never showed him your corpse wasn’t making his visits any easier. The last time he came he informed you that the witch who cast the spell was dead, and he needed to find another one to keep you hidden, then he begged you to stay in the cabin no matter what.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

You were cooking when a scream echoed through the forest, it sounded like a female, another one followed more heartbreaking than the other, she sounded hurt and frightened. You placed the ladle on the counter and removed the kettle from the fire, your worry and curiosity taking over as you walked towards the door. You cracked the door and peeked outside, no one was there. You opened it further and stepped outside and then you saw her, a naked blonde female covered in blood, a note was nailed to her womb. You gasped and ran to her, she flinched back when she saw you. “Its okay you’re safe, don’t worry I got you” you said softly and wrapped her arm around your neck, helping her to your cabin. You laid her on the couch and hurried off to find a cloth and a bowl to fill with warm water. After gathering everything you needed you went back, she was watching your every move. “I’m going to clean your wounds” you informed her and knelt in front of her.

“You look like Eris” she whispered, and you froze. Could you reveal the truth to her? What if she went to Beron? Your silence confirmed her suspicions and she gasped.

“You are Eris’ twin sister… you didn’t die” she exclaimed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I have never seen the lordling” You wrinkled your nose at the title, but you needed to sound convincing.

She stared at you and hissed when you removed the nail from her womb. “You need to see a healer” you informed her.

“I can’t go out there, Eris is probably looking for me” she replied.

“Why?” you furrowed your eyebrows. She pointed to the note, and you read it, you gasped and leaned back. “You are his fiancé?” you asked wide-eyed.

“Ex fiancé… anyway thank you for this I just need to rest and then I’ll be on my way” she said and leaned back letting you clean her wounds.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

You were searching your closet for clothes she could borrow when the sound of horses’ hooves crushing the fallen leaves filled the silence. You straightened your back and peeked through the window. Eris.

The blonde female raised from the couch and looked at you. “Its okay” you told her and moved to stand in front of her. “I’m sorry” she mumbled and before you could ask why the door burst open and Eris strolled in, his eyes widening when he noticed the female behind you. “What is she doing here?” he asked you. “She was hurt and frightened Eris, because of you” you narrowed your eyes. “I couldn’t leave her out there she would die”.

“You just invited a wolf in your house” Eris growled, and the female smirked.

“Now that you are here my beloved, I’ve already reached to Rhysand, and he knows about your sweet sister. Azriel is coming to get me and if you even try to stand in my way, Rhys will inform your daddy about his daughter’s resurrection.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Eris’ hurt expression. What have you done? You moved away from her, the clothes you found dropping at her feet. Eris pushed you behind him and spoke.

“Okay get dressed I will escort you there”. “Oh there’s no need for that, he is coming here.” She shrugged and got dressed.

You were sitting on the armchair hugging your knees, Eris was pacing and Mor -as Eris informed you- was sprawled on your couch, the smirk never leaving her face.

Suddenly darkness swirled in front of your door and a winged figure appeared, when the darkness disappeared the most handsome male you have ever seen walked in. He was tall, his body broad and strong and his face… his face was angelic even though his expression was made from sin and ice. His hazel eyes stared at you, and you swore you could see all the stars inside them. You almost moaned at the sight, and then you felt it, a thread binding your soul to his and it snapped.

He flinched and his eyes widened.

“You’re my mate” you whispered.

Eris and Mor blinked, their eyes moving between the two of you frantically.

“Oh no no no no” Eris laughed sarcastically.

The male turned his attention to him. “Your sister is the only reason I’m letting you live Vanserra” he growled. “Let’s go, Cassian is waiting at the border” he offered a hand to Mor and when she reached him, he guided her outside flared his wings and they were gone.

You were standing in front of the armchair, staring at the door. You were frozen in your spot.

“Did he just leave?” you asked.

“Yeah, but he is coming back, Azriel is way too stubborn to let go of you. We need to leave.” Eris said and grabbed his coat.

“Eris wait…” he stopped and looked at you. “What if I go with him? I have no life here, I’m alone… Beron doesn’t have to know, I will stay hidden.”

“Azriel is an illyrian bastard… you are way too good for him.” He growled.

“I don’t care! Cauldron, you sound like our father right now” you groaned. “Do you want me to stay trapped here? Alone and miserable…”

Eris let out a sigh “you are right… but I won’t get to see you again” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“We will find a way for you to visit” you approached him and grabbed his hands. He nodded and pulled you in his arms, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.

You heard the beating sound of wings and removed yourself from Eris’ embrace. Azriel landed in front of the cabin.

“Even if I don’t like this… you should take her with you, she is on her own here and if Beron finds her, he will kill her.” Eris spoke and Azriel nodded. He offered you his hand and glance at Eris. “I will take care of her, don’t worry”

And with that you walked in your mates embrace, looking at your brother hopefully not for the last time and wishing for a better life far away from your father – Beron.

Requests are open!

Edit: I forgot to write this before, I don’t think I will ever be able to write a mean Eris… I mean he is so hot, maybe I wouldn’t marry him but I would totally fuck him… I’m completely obsessed with Azriel but I would totally cheat on him with Eris 🫢

242 notes · View notes

imaginesheaven · 6 months

Text

GN!Reader x Valeria Garza – sibling’s love

Synopsis: Valeria has her Las Almas Cartel. You are one of the Los Vaqueros. Unfortunately, the two of you are twins. So, one day when TF 141 comes to arrest El Sin Nombre, you are confronted with your own family. It will be a hell of a ride to tell your mother, when both of you visit her for dinner together.

Here, something quick I wrote because I couldn't get it out of my head *haha* Please, let me know if you enjoyed it :)

Callsign: Doberman

Warnings: Swearing; violence

Length: ~1.5k

It wasn’t really a pleasant situation how you found out that Valeria – your own fucking twin – is the leader of the Las Almas cartel. Alejandro and Rudy had a long conversation who is actually going to tell you in person, because they knew you would be mad. In the end they just flipped a coin. Alejandro lost unfortunately. It’s an understatement that you were fuming with anger.

“VALERIA!”, you burst into the conversation between Graves and your sister. “You two know each other?”, Phillip looks at you with dislike since you interrupted him. “Ah, we are even closer than that. Same bloodline, eh?”, Valeria winks at you.

Alejandro and Rudy have a hard time to hold you back as you curse a whole lexicon of Spanish swear words over her. “That’s how you greet your long-lost twin, (Y/N)?”, she still knows how to push your buttons. Such a sibling thing of her.

“You disgrace our family. Father would turn around in shame in his grave because of you, pendejo”, you reply playing the same game she does. Valeria leans forward now the one who swears in Spanish; ready to pounce any second.

Graves puts his hand on her shoulder to keep her in the chair. “Get your fucking hand of her, gringo!”, you yell at Graves hating him from the second you first saw him. Valeria leans back in her seat. Something like proud shines in her eyes, “See? Don’t fuck with my little Doberman. I’m well protected.”

For a second your hand curls around the handgun by your side, then you raise your hands in a defensive gesture, “Tell them what you know, Valeria.” With that you turn around to leave before your short fuse will blow up finally.

“Fine, I will. We see each other Thursday for dinner at Mother’s place~”, she yells so you still can hear her words. You don’t turn around or stop. This is going to be the worst week of your whole damn life.

Valeria called you her little Doberman for most of your life, since you were always there to protect her. She is actually the older one for about a minute, but you took your task of keeping your twin safe very seriously. Both of you are very dangerous soldiers. Back when you served together side by side, you were a dream team. Until the day she betrayed you and the army.

Valeria would never admit it out loud that she actually missed having you by her side. She is also a bit jealous how Alejandro and Rudy held you back. It’s like they are your family now. Well, she can understand it after what she has done.

After Graves’ betrayal you didn’t want to be on the team with Alejandro and Gaz to secure Valeria. But what can you say? She is still family. You hate how proud and confident she looks as you put her into the car to bring her to the next prison. “I will be free in 24 hours”, Valeria smiles at you innocently. Both of you know that she tells the truth.

Thursday arrived. You hoped with all you have that Valeria would not be at the dinner with your mother, but no one heard your silent prayers. Your mother opens the door more than happy to see you alive and in one piece, “Come in!”

There she is; sitting at her old place at the dinning table with a glass of wine in her hand. Valeria opens her mouth to greet you, but you raise your hand to stop her right away, “Don’t talk to me, pendejo.”

“What are those manners, (Y/N)?!”, your mother puts her hand onto her chest. “Yes, my little Doberman. Why did you arrest me?”, Valeria smirks knowing exactly how to turn a little flame into a breaching fire. Family is the highest priority for your mother.

“You are fucking El Sin Nombre! I’m militaria! I can’t let you go because we are family!”, you sit down opposite of Valeria. Your mother watches the two of you with furrowed eyebrows, “You arrested Valeria? And you are the cartel leader? Dios mio!”

Your sister leans forward to emphasize her statement, “I just do what it needs to protect you two!” For a second you can see the old Valeria sitting there. “You almost shot me last week”, a slight smirk appears on your lips.

Your mother gasps loudly, “VALERIA! THIS IS YOUR FAMILY!” Your twin rolls her eyes annoyed, “I did miss, right? If I wanted to shoot you, I would have done it.” Laughing you grab the wine bottle from the table, “You were never as good at shooting as me, Val. A few things will never change apparently.”

In the same moment both of you put your handguns onto the table, showing each other no mercy. Just like the fucking old times. Neither of you would hesitate for a second to pull the trigger. It has always been like that.

“NO HANDGUNS ON THE TABLE!!”, your mother yells through the entire room. Both of you flinch with the intensity she still rules the house. “Sorry, mother”, you mumble under your breath and holster your gun quickly. Valeria does the same without any apology just like always. There only two or three things she is actually sorry about.

“If you are going to kill each other, at least after eating! I cooked all day long for you”, your mother shuffles into the kitchen.

Valeria and you keep shooting each other death glares over your plates. When your mother doesn’t look you kick each other underneath the table. Neither of you is going to back down like a true Doberman.

The rest of the dinner actually runs way smoother than thought. Of course, both of you help your mother with the dishes. Your mother puts on her favorite record as she swells in the happiness to have you both back safely.

“You missed a spot”, Valeria exclaims and points her finger at the plate in your hand. “Shut up, it’s clean!”, you still try to suppress your anger at her, but she keeps pushing you. Probably hoping to find your breaking point.

“I will tell Mom that it’s not clean”, she grins at you. Without a word you slap her hand hard so she lets go of the plate. It shatters on the floor into thousand pieces. “MOM! VALERIA BROKE ONE OF THE PLATES!”, you return the winning smile at her.

“No! I didn’t! You did that!”, Valeria tries to explain as your mother comes into the kitchen to find the mess on the floor. “Dios mio! Those are the good plates, Valeria”, she leans down to pick up the shards. Smirking you flip Valeria off with your soapy hands. Of course, behind the back of your mother. She would get a heart attack for sure.

Your twin rolls her eyes annoyed and throws the wet rag into your direction. “No fighting in the house, you two! You can beat each other outside. Do what you have to do to get out your anger”, your mother shushes both of you out of the kitchen. Valeria takes her chance to trip you on the way towards the front door.

“FUCKING HELL! You make me go haywire!”, you raise your hand to smack her square in the face. Suddenly your mother grabs your ear and Valeria’s to bring you down onto her level. She will always have enough strength left to lecture you two.

“I want you to get things right. Like I said: fight, shoot or whatever. I don’t care, but no killing each other. I will see both of you next Thursday to dinner again, comprende?”, she releases both of you with a slight smile on her lips, “Great! Have a nice evening. Love you!”

Without a further word you stumble outside with Valeria right behind you. For a moment you stare at each other, ready to blame the other one for this mess. Valeria starts first to laugh and you can’t help but join her.

“Well, that was fun. See you next Thursday, my little Doberman!”, she makes her way towards the black car that waits already for her. You don’t want to admit it, but you kind of look forward to it.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #valeria mw2 #valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria x reader #valeria x you #gender neutral reader #gn reader #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x you #siblings #cod headcanons #cod hcs #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra

252 notes · View notes

skipper1331 · 8 months

Text

The next morning // Jessie Fleming

pt. 2 of the drunk and the sober

You woke up to a weight on your chest, your face covered in dark hair as arms were snuggled around your mid section while your head hurt painfully.

You wiped the hair out of your face to see the sleeping beauty. Her breathing was even, her freckles on full display and your own arms wrapped around her body protectively. You couldn‘t help yourself but stroke over her cheek with your thumb. Waking up like this felt like heaven, a dream come true.

You‘d been in love with Jess as long as you can remember, you fell for the quiet shy girl who was absolutely adorable.

"You look so beautiful" you mumbled in her hair, her nose slightly scrunching. You let her sleep as long as she had to, the least you could do after last night, though you kept stroking her cheek gently. You didn‘t notice nor did she but she melted in to your touch.

After an hour or so, the canadian slowly woke up, wiggling around yet still resting on top of you "good morning sunshine" you whispered as you saw that she opened her eyes. As soon as she heard your voice her head snapped up, her body following behind. She looked down at you while she was straddling your lap. Your hands placed themselves on her bare thighs. "I love that position" you grinned, sitting up. Jess‘ eyes scanned your movements "how did you sleep, pretty girl?" you asked sincerely. The midfielder started blush, tilting her head down as her fair fell in front of her face to hide her blush "don‘t hide that pretty face" both of your hands brushed her hair out of her face "do you remember anything from last night?" she asked, ignoring your question. To be honest, she slept better than ever. She felt safe, secure and protected and it was all because of you. "Most parts" you replied, your hands back at resting on her thighs, drawing circles on them. She looked cute wearing your clothes.

As if she only now realized what position you were in, she immediately got off of you and the bed, scrambling her stuff together. "Painkillers are next to you, drink a glass of water and eat something" she said before she rushed out of the room. "Jess!" you ran after, stopping her as she was about to open the front door. Your head was throbbing but you didn‘t care, all you cared about was Jessie. You saw that she wasn‘t comfortable being here, the way her eyes were looking everywhere but you, the way she took a step back as you were in front of her. "Let me drive you home"

"Okay"

You put your shoes on in silence, the drive to her house was in silence, you wanted to say something - you didn‘t. She was staring out of the window, her legs pointing away from you, her stuff in her lap, arms wrapped around it protectively.

The car came to a stop at her home, "thank you" she whispered, not leaving the car just yet. She wanted you to say something, anything. She didn‘t know what she wanted to hear, just something about last night, about your feelings. "Look - I got the message, okay? I won‘t flirt with you anymore" she looked at you but now it was your turn to look outside. That wasn‘t what Jess wanted to hear. "Fine" she rolled her eyes, leaving your car, slamming the door shut.

The moment she stepped out of your car, she regretted it.

Jess often had to struggle with her own feelings - how to deal with the unknown ones. She didn't know. She never had those feelings (always blushing, butterflies in her stomach, heart racing and tingling skin, everything felt like it was on fire) towards anyone before. She was shy and quiet, introverted and that someone - you - could like her didn't fit into her thoughts. How? And the fact that you flirted with her and teased her, stressed her out so much because she liked it. But the question was: was it you or the alcohol that was in your system.

"Fuck" you hit the steering wheel. All you wanted was- you didn‘t know what you wanted, not that what just happened, for sure.

Back at home, you took the painkillers, drank a glass of water and ate something, like Jessie told you.

Jessie

The girl that made your knees tremble, your heart skip a beat and made you feel happy. Was this the end?

You

Just to let you know, the shots didn‘t talk. It was me, they just made confident.

Your fingers typed the message faster than your brain could process it and before you knew it the text was sent. You tried to delete it but she already saw it - didn‘t reply. Your heart hurt yet there was nothing you could do, you could only hope that painkillers would help your aching heart too.

Half an hour later, someone was banging on your door, very penetratively. "Mate, what‘s wrong with you?" your thumb and middle finger rubbed your temples while the other hand opened the door.

"You confuse me!" your favorite canadian said as she brushed past you. "What?"

"You confuse me with all your- I don‘t know. What did you mean with your text?" she asked, her voice low as turned to you. "If I had the confidence I would flirt with you all the time"

"See! You’re confusing! What do you want from me?"

"Why am I confusing?! I just want you to be mine!" your voice was raised, arms wildly gesturing. How could she not understand that you want her?

"God Jess! You make me nervous everytime you‘re near me and i want you to like me back!" you were yelling by now, it didn‘t make your head hurt any less.

"I do!"

You didn‘t move, not able to "what was that?" she took a step towards you. "I do like you" her arms looped around your neck, instinctively yours went around her waist.

The silence around you was loud but in a good way, it was just the two of you in your own created bubble. "You‘re so confusing but I love it" you whispered, smiling, pulling her closer "so?" she asked. You leant forward, stopping an inch away "may i?" you asked, wanting to do the thing you wanted to do since forever. "please"

That‘s all you needed before you pushed your lips on her own. Butterflies filled your chest, the sweet taste of her lips made you melt as you turned putty in her hands. You dreamed about this for a long time and it‘s better than you ever imagined.

——————

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #chelsea wfc #canwnt #canwnt x reader

343 notes · View notes

darknight3904 · 19 days

Text

Blessings

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀ��ʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴀᴏʏᴀ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴀᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʙɪᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴊᴊᴋ ᴍᴀɴɢᴀ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ. ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ. ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴏᴜᴛᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ ᴄʟᴀɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀʟꜱ

ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴢᴇɴɪɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4ᴋ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

2018

November 9

"Thought you were dying there for a few hours." Shoko's voice says

The scent of cigarette smoke hits your nose as you try to get your barrings.

"I would never." You say, your voice is hoarse

"How're you feeling?" She asks passing you a glass of water

"Sore. I'll be fine though," You say gulping the water down greedily, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Not long I used my technique so you should be fine. You had a pretty bad concussion along with your stomach being torn open. Whoever stitched you up did a good job but that fight ruined it. ." She explains

You nod slowly and sit up.

"Oh, I have your phone, Naoya insisted you wouldn't need it when he picked you up." She says handing you a shoe box.

Sure enough, your phone sits inside and a few other items.

Nanami's cursed tool sits with what looks like half of the spotted tie he often wore.

Nanami! Naoya never mentioned him and with all the excitement at the estate, he hadn't crossed your mind.

"Shoko! Where's Nanami? He saved me from some sort of fire curse! Let me see him!" You demand trying to climb off the bed she had you on

Shoko places a warm hand on your shoulder and sits down next to you.

"Nanami died in Shibuya. Itadori saw it, he was killed by that cursed spirit Mahito." She says quietly

No...

It's alright

That couldn't possibly be your last interaction with him! Shoko was lying.

"Where's Satoru? He'll tell me the truth?" You say, angry that she'd lie

"He's still sealed. Whatever is inside Geto's body has him. Even if we were to get him back he's to remain sealed for collaborating on the Shibuya attack." Shoko says

Naoya had said something similar to you just days ago...

"I'm just saying what the higher-ups have said to all of us ok." Shoko sighs

Her face is a twisted mess of anger and sadness. Sometimes you forget how close Shoko was to Gojo, to Geto before his death last year.

"I'm sorry." You say

You're having a hard time believing all this, Nanami dead, Satoru, missing, sealed inside some box. Not to mention the aftermath of the fight with Naoya. You're pretty sure you can feel your bones creaking.

"I picked the tool up from where he died. The tie was actually wrapped around your fingers when you were brought to me." She says

He must've put it there. You swore he had the tie wrapped around his own hand like always when he pushed you out of the way.

Your tears feel like they're burning your face as you whisper your thanks for the box.

"You should get some rest at home. I healed you with my technique but your head was pretty bad, you probably won't feel the best for another couple of days." She says, "The rest of the report is there if you want it."

And then, she's gone, closing the door behind her with a soft tap.

Ijichi helps you sneak out of the school undetected. He claimed that reports were submitted to the higher-ups that Maki killed you in the Zenin massacre. That kept you safe for now but being on school grounds was still risky. If one of them came down to Shoko's lab they'd sense your cursed energy and then Yuta would be dispatched.

Your home feels empty without Satoru's loud voice and Megumi and Itadori's bickering about Human Earthworm. You spend the next few days reviewing various reports Shoko emails you. From the Culling Games from Kenjaku to Itadori's second 'death", it seems like you missed a lot.

November 11

The loud crash of a pan wakes you up. The clock on your bedside table reads 4pm, you must've fallen asleep reading again. Hushed whispers reach your ears.

Whoever the higher-ups sent to kill you, they were doing a shit job. Had Yuta lost his mind?

"Itadori! Pick it up! She hates it when we mess up the kitchen!" A voice commands

Megumi?

You immediately throw off your blankets, and any ideas of jumping out the window are gone from your mind.

You're practically tripping down the steps as you rush to the source of the noise.

"It's not my fault I swear!"

You finally reach the kitchen to see Itadori holding your favorite frying pan in one hand and rubbing the back of his neck with another. Megumi must've smacked him.

And then your eyes fall to the other person with them. Buried behind Megumi and Itadori's scrap over a pan is the girl you never thought would wake up.

"Tsumiki!" You gasp and immediately wrap your arms around her.

Her laugh warms your heart as she leans up from her wheelchair to hug back.

"What are you doing here?" You ask when you break apart

"She's part of the Culling Games. Itadori and I want to work to fix a rule that lets her leave. I brought her here since I thought she'd be safest with you." Megumi explains

"That's great but...getting involved with those games means killing others doesn't it?" You ask as you run a hand through Tsumiki's hair.

"Yes, but what other options do we have?" Itadori says

"Saving Tsumiki is our priority. Kenjaku will kill her if she doesn't participate." Megumi says

"Then you two can stay here with her. I can join them." You say, "You guys are still kids."

Sure they're extremely powerful kids. Sukunas vessel and the use of the Ten Shadows, but still kids.

"Children shouldn't have to do things like that." You say

Your words are reminding you of Nanami. He always said things like this, especially after Haibara died.

"No," Megumi says

No? Who did this kid think he was?

"Megumi, have you forgotten I'm the special grade here. Not to mention I literally have changed your bed sheets after you peed in the middle of the night." You say, "You're not in any position to tell me what to do."

Maybe you could embarrass him into staying home. Itadori lets out a snort but slaps his hand over his mouth when Megumi sends him a sharp look.

"You can't go because we'll need you later. We don't know what Kenjaku can do. If you go in there and fight you might lose, and we can't be missing any special grades. Without Gojo, we're going to need all our power as sorcerers." Megumi says

You hate that he's right. You still don't feel great after your fight with Naoya. You know it's not his technique, it's just you. Maybe it has to do with Nanami or Satoru.

"You're talking like an adult, clan leader." You smile and mockingly bow

"That's right! You're head of our family now, Megumi!" Tsumiki smiles

"I don't want it. I already told you that on the bus ride over here." Megumi scowls

"Dunno if you have a choice in that. Not that it matters though, The clans is dead. It's just us and Maki now." You say

"What?" Megumi asked

"Maki, she came to the estate and killed the Hei and the Kakuru. I haven't seen her since but I presume she's off mopping up the rest of the Zenins that weren't on Estate grounds at the time." You say

"What about your parents?" Tsumiki asks

April 2016

"Dead people are kind of gross, huh?"

"Just because he's dead doesn't mean you can make fun of him, Naoya." You say

"Why not? You hate him for engaging us. Besides any man that dies to a sickness isn't a real man." Naoya scoffs, "I don't ever plan to die like that."

"He had cancer, Naoya." You say

"So?" He asks

You roll your eyes and look over at your mother. She's spent her day greeting family members who have come to mourn your after. You haven't talked to her in years, you only knew that your father was dead thanks to Naoya.

"You are such a good-looking couple!" An older woman compliments her as she approaches.

You're not entirely sure who she is exactly. Just some nameless Zenin woman who has shriveled with time.

"Thank you." You say with a small smile.

This funeral has been unbearable so far, playing perfect fiance with Naoya has sucked your soul from your body.

"What's the long face for?"

"For fucks sake." Naoya curses as heavy arms come to rest on both your shoulders

"I mean I know it's a funeral and all but did anyone actually like the guy that died?"

The old woman scoffs and hobbles off, deterred by the one and only Satrou Gojo.

"What are you doing?" You ask

"Let go," Naoya says shoving his arm off

"Saving you love birds. Everyone hates when old relatives come up to make small talk. I know I do." He smiles

"No I mean, I left you in the car. Why are you in here?" You say, gently pushing his arm from your shoulder.

"I got bored. Plus Megumi stopped texting me back." Satrou says

"Of course he did. You're insufferable." Naoya says eyeing Satoru like he was some bug.

"Careful now, we don't want to get any blood on that nice outfit of yours." Satoru smiles

"Whatever. You have five minutes with your bitch. My dad wants to see us." Naoya says before stomping off somewhere.

"I'll kill him." Satoru smiles

"No, you won't." You say

After you successfully send Satoru back to the car, you bribed him with sex and a promise of kikufuku, you're free again. Your eyes fall to your mother again and this time she sees you. She smiles at you but you can't bring yourself to return it. There was nothing to smile about you were still trapped in an engagement a now-dead man had set up. Why did she even bother to still try with you?

"I don't care what happens to them. They're not my family." You say

"So you'll let me go? You're not going to tackle me the way you did that one time?" Megumi asks

"That was when you were eight, and wanted to wear your underwear on the outside of your pants because Satoru told you he'd take your bed away if you didn't. You almost went to the bus stop like that." You say

"Why was he even trying to take your bed away in the first place?" Itadori asked

"I didn't want to talk to him about Digimon." Megumi sighs

"Megumi, tell her why you're bringing me to her." Tsumiki says, nudging her baby brother's leg

"What? Why?" Megumi asks, his face a bit red

"It was cute." Tsumiki smiles

"Yeah, Fushiguro...tell her." Itadori cheekily says as he elbows Megumi

"Stop it, both of you." You say, "If he doesn't want to then he doesn't have to."

You smile to yourself as you listen to the way Megumi and Itadori talk to each other upstairs.

"We don't have to bring my things downstairs," Tsumiki says from the table

"Sure we do, I don't really want to have to carry you up the steps all the time." You say, "Besides, you'll get the hang of walking again soon. After all, Satrou's money pays for the best physical therapist we can find."

Tsumiki is quieter than normal but she seems happy enough to watch to prepare a simple dinner for everyone. It's a bit jarring that she hasn't made fun of Megumi yet or scolded him, but perhaps she was just happy to be out of her coma.

"Is this everything?" Megumi asks as he tosses extra clothes, blankets, and a few hair ties onto the couch.

"It looks good to me. Sit down, boys we're eating dinner." You say

"We have to get back to the school. Tengen, Yuki, and Choso will want an update." Megumi says

"You have to eat. What's Tengen going to serve? Socratic advice that makes no sense?" You ask

Megumi huffs in annoyance but sits down anyway.

"Teenagers. They're so full of attitude." You say to Itadori.

"Especially Fushiguro." Itadori laughs

"Tell me about it. He used to pout all the time when he was a kid. Always wanted things to go your way." You smile as you walk to the table

"That's Gojo's fault. He spoiled us." Megumi says

"True, he doesn't seem to have a frugal bone in his body." You say

December 2009

"Do you honestly think he'll like that?" You ask eyeing the expensive coat Gojo has just purchased.

"Tsumiki liked hers. Besides, Megumi needs a nicer one, the one he has is too small on his arms." He dismisses you

"Sure but..."

You glance down at all the many bags the white-haired man had accumulated over the past few hours. You had ended up at the mall with him after finding out how little the kids had in way of clothes and just possessions in general. You were all for Christmas shopping but Satoru was taking things pretty far.

"Alrighty...I think we went to every store." He says as the two of you step into a crowded elevator.

"You think?" You smile

"Are you mocking me?" He asks

"I'd never." You lie

You shuffle closer to him as people shift around to get out on their stop, but suddenly a sour smell fills the elevator. You look up at the sun-glass-wearing idiot to see a smirk on his face. He must've been the cause.

"Ah sorry about that everyone. She's feeling a bit gassy. Must've been the broccoli we had from Panda Express!" He announces

You're positively mortified as a man in a stylish suit shoots you a glare and steps away from you.

Gojo's cackling is so loud, you could probably hear it all the way back at the school where Nananmi was watching the kids.

"Don't you ever do that again, idiot!" You scold as your voice carries through the parking deck

"It's not my fault you let it out in an elevator of all places!" He laughs

"You're a liar!" You say, shoving his shoulder

"Careful! What if I dropped these bags? What would you tell the kids then?" He asks

"I'd tell them you're a man with a fancy credit card who can't hold his farts in when he's in public." You say

"And if I held it in? What if it builds up and explodes inside me?" He asks, totally serious

"Good, one less freak in the world." You huff

Gojo dramatically gasps and pretends to faint by leaning onto you.

"Get off! Your fat ass is crushing me! All those sweets must be adding up!"

It's not until you're back in the car that Gojo stops laughing about the elevator, even now, his giggles are breaking the silence.

"Do you actually think my ass has gotten fat?" He asks, "All the squats I've been doing must be paying off."

The nerve of this man.

Tsumiki looks so peaceful as you turn off the lights in the living room. It had been a challenge to get her out of the wheelchair but the relaxed look on her face now that she was asleep on the couch was well worth it.

You quietly tiptoe up the steps and knock on Megumi's door. There's a bit of shuffling followed by a "I can't believe you don't want to watch the Conjuring, Fushiguro." Before the door swings open.

"I just wanted to say goodnight." You say

"Goodnight!" Itadori calls from his place in Megumi's bed

"Goodnight," Megumi says

You smile at him and gently ruffle his hair.

"You're getting so tall. I wish you were little again. You were so cute!" You gush, thinking about Megumi's chubby face.

"Stop that, it's embarrassing." He says brushing his hand off your head.

You're ready to walk away and cuddle into your bed, the soft scent of Satoru's cologne on the sheets ready to lull you to sleep when Itadori speaks up.

"Have you ever seen Human Earthworm?" He asks

"Just the one we all saw at the theater a few months ago." You say

"Wanna watch the third one? Fushiguro doesn't want to but if you do then he has to, cuz' majority wins." He says

You think about it for a moment. While the movie wasn't exactly your taste, the lure of people to talk to was tempting. You weren't enjoying your solitude as much as you thought you would.

"Alright, I'll watch it with you two." You say, pretending like you had really thought it over.

"Yes!" Itadori cheers, "Fushiguro open Netflix!"

You spend the next hour melting your brain on the big bean bag Megumi has in his room. Itadori seemed overjoyed that you had outvoted him but now you were understanding why Megumi wasn't into these movies. They were just so odd!

"Hey, I think he's asleep, we can turn it off," Megumi says quietly

"Thank god." You whisper reaching for the remote, "I think I lost some brain cells."

You stand up and look down at the two teens who are in bed. Megumi is still awake and looking at you while Itadori is fast asleep, his arms wrapped around a stuffed T-Rex Satoru won in a claw machine for Megumi years ago.

"Hey Megumi..." You say

"What?" He asks

He follows your gaze to Itadori and understands exactly what you're saying with your eyes.

"We're just friends." He says quietly, looking at the sleeping pink-haired boy.

"I didn't even say anything!" You whisper

"Friends." Megumi insists, his face is dusted with a pink hue.

You don't miss the way he's avoiding your gaze, instead inspecting the blue of his duvet.

"Alright, alright. Just remember, Satoru will tease you way more than me." You say as you walk toward the door

"He's an idiot," Megumi says

"Oh trust me, I know."

You bid farewell to Megumi and Itadori early the next morning. Tsumiki is rubbing sleep from her eyes as she waves them off from the couch.

"Be safe." You say seriously

"We will! See you soon, Zenin-san!" Itadori waves as starts to walk off.

"So you know exactly where to bring her, right?" Megumi asks, "If it changes, Maki will come to tell you."

"I know, don't worry." You assure

"I'm just...trying to be cautious. I don't want anything going wrong." Megumi says

"You don't have to be. Itadori will have your back in there, and I'll be out here keeping her safe. I know that's why you brought her to me." You say, "Plus, if anything goes seriously wrong Maki can come to tell me and I'll join the game immediately."

"And if the higher-ups find out about you? They don't even know that Tsumiki is here, they think she's at Shoko's." He says

"They won't do anything. Yuta and Yuki are the only ones who would be sent out for me and he's already in the game and Yuki's with Tengen." You assure

"Okay," Megumi says

He seems a bit unsure as he turns to walk after his friend.

"Megumi, everything is going to work out." You say before quickly hugging him.

He's never been one for tons of physical affection, even when he was a kid he'd grimace at head pats or hugs. Of course, that might be because Satoru was the one who was overbearing with it.

You're a bit shocked when Megumi hugs back, normally he stiffly stands there like you've stabbed him in the stomach.

"I know. I just wish we could fast forward to everything being over." He admits

"Tell me about it." You say letting him go, "Satoru getting sealed has made everything more difficult."

Megumi nods in agreement and walks after Itadori.

"See you soon!" You call after them

You get a wide smile from Itadori and a wave from Megumi who says something to the pink-haired boy.

"He said your bathrobe is ugly!" Itadori yells

"Megumi! Get back here right now!" You yell, highly insulted.

November 16

"Are you sure you don't want me to enter with you? I don't mind." You say as you walk with Tsumiki towards the barrier

"It's alright." She says

You had spent the past week and a half with her, holed up at the house. She was rather quiet during that time but she had been sleeping for over a year, perhaps she just wasn't interested in talking your ears off like before.

"Zenin-san and I will be right outside. I'll be substituting for you." Ijichi says

"I still can't believe she chose you for that." You sigh

"I don't want you to get hurt." she says

Odd. Normally she's ready to praise you for your strength. She always found it cool that you were a special grade before she fell into her coma.

"Alright. I'll be right here though. Once you add your rule we can go get some food." You say

Tsumiki nods and sends you a small smile as the barrier swallows her up.

"Are you worried, Zenin-san?" Ijichi asks

"Yes. I'll get over it though. She's a smart girl and Megumi knows what he's doing. He's always been quite sure of himself." You say, "He reminds me of Satoru sometimes."

"I hope he doesn't turn out exactly like him," Ijichi says

"Tell me about it, the world can barely handle one as it is." You laugh

Megumi has always shined bright in your eyes. Sure, he was difficult when you first met him. Sullen, and always ready with a sharp-tongued insult to throw at you and Satoru, but he eventually mellowed out. Well, to you at least. You're sure once this Angel person frees Satoru they'll bicker again as soon as possible.

Perhaps you'll never fully understand Megumi as a person. He was level-headed at times and then at others, he could barely think straight. Even in his middle school days when you'd spend countless hours arguing with him about his bullying habits, you never got a full explanation from him on why he did what he did.

"Out little blessing"

Satoru was right. He was a blessing, even if he would be the cause of early gray hairs and stress wrinkles for you. And now, he was setting things up to keep his sister safe, putting his loved ones first, as he often did. Megumi never said it but you knew he loved his little family, his actions spoke for him.

"Spacing out?" Ijichi asks

"Just thinking about Megumi. He's grown so much." You sigh

"Well, he is 15. Teen boys tend to do that." He says

"I wasn't talking about how tall he's getting, Ijichi."

November 19

Dammit. How could you let this happen? Sukuna in Megumi. Some ancient sorceress taking over Tsumiki, getting her killed. This was all your fault. You let Megumi go into the games. You could've insisted he stay home. Maybe you could've figured out some way to separate Yoruzu from Tsumiki. Just maybe...you could've fought her, gotten Tsumiki's soul to respond...perhaps using your domain would've worked.

Everything was falling apart and you can't help but think you could've done something to stop it.

"Zenin-san!"

Panda.

"Ieiri-san is looking for you!" He says

You wipe at the stray tears that have accumulated in your waterline. There wasn't time to mourn. You'd bury Tsumiki later, for now, you had to focus on what was ahead.

"Are you ready?" Shoko asks, sunglasses in one hand, and a cigarette in the other.

You looked over at the one Itadori had introduced as Hana Kurusu, or well Angel as you liked to refer to her in your mind.

Just a few more minutes and he'd be back again. Satoru was coming home.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

I know, it's shorter than normal. I have to focus on my work for my college so this will have to tie everyone over for a little bit. I gotta lock-in I fear.

I will say this though:

Gojo returns in the next chapter hehe.

If you have something negative to say about this fic, don't hide as an anon in my messages. Better yet, just block me. Out of sight, out of mind. This is a message to the person/people who keep lurking and messaging me saying they don't like the fic. I'm not forcing you to read it. Just scroll away.

More to come. Comment to be tagged.

Tags:

@bakedpotato12

76 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 2 years

Text

Hotshot- J. Seresin

pairing: J. "Hangman" Seresin x pilot female!reader (callsign: Hotshot) word count: 3.8k warnings: SMUT, PIV, dumbifcation, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking, public sex based on this request (i apologize in advance, i had to change it up a bit to fit the idea. so sorry, but still hope you like it!)

Hangman knew the rule. Hell, the rule had been established because of him. No fraternizing with other top gun cadets. It made for messy times while flying through the sky. Too many feelings were involved as they argued about who slept with who and who did what with who and who didn’t text who back. There was no room for all of that when they were flying at supersonic speed and fighting for their lives. Some of the pilots found it dumb, when they sat in the briefing talking about the new rules and regulations.

One of them in particular was Y/N Y/L/N, call sign Hotshot. She didn’t think it was necessary to have to sit in a class about fraternizing and safe sex when the one person the class was directed at was sleeping. She hated Jake Hangman Seresin. She hated everything about him. And He hated her.

Both of them had been born to Top Gun graduates, and the rivalry between them had started from birth. Their dads had gone back and forth fighting for who was top of the class (ultimately it was Y/N’s dad), and the fight spewed over into Y/N and Jake. Y/N had a lot to prove during her year at Top Gun, she was one of only five females in the program. By the time graduation rolled around, she was one of two (the other being Phoenix).

She didn’t have time to worry about feelings or sex when she was fighting to be one of the best. Hangman had tried to get to her, flashing that ridiculous smile, or taking his shirt off when it wasn’t necessary, or buying her a drink. But she wouldn’t budge. She had earned her nickname when in one of her dogfights with Hangman, she had pulled a cobra move, and flipped over him to take him down. Hangman hated it, and she never let him live it down.

Hangman had thought when they graduated Top Gun that would be the last time he saw Hotshot, until he got called back. The hard deck was the last place he’d ever thought he’d see her. But the second she walked in with Rooster, he felt his mood sour. She looked great, and he hated to admit it. The shorts on her body showed off her tan legs and the tank top on her body showed off her toned arms. Hangman clenched his jaw as she walked towards them, gaining the attention of the other male counterparts.

“Guess they just let anybody back,” Hangman said.

“Clearly, you’re here,” She fired back as she greeted the group.

“Where have you been?” Phoenix said, hugging her friend.

“Here, there, everywhere. When you graduate top of the class,” Y/N said, looking over at Hangman, “You get to pick where you want to be.”

“And yet you chose to stay here, in fighter town,” Hangman smirked, “You finally let a man into that cold dead thing between your legs?”

“You finally treat that raging case of chlamydia?”

Hangman rolled his eyes as the group broke out in cheers for the comeback. Everyone crowded around Y/N, leaving Hangman to seethe in his spot, glaring at her. She had a way of getting under his skin and making him irritated. He knew better than to let a rival bother him this much, but there was just something about her that he couldn’t shake. Normally, if it was a male counterpart he would just box them or go in rounds until they couldn’t offend each other anymore. But with Y/N he always stopped himself from saying anything too far. He did respect her, he would never admit it out loud, but he did.

“I see you and Bradshaw came together…” Phoenix looked over at the brown haired man. Y/N rolled her eyes. Ever since Top Gun, Rooster and Hotshot had been friends. They bonded over the shared trauma of losing a parent in the service, only thing was, Hotshot was old enough to vividly remember that day and Rooster was not, “Oh come on! Four years and nothing!?“

“Zilch.” Hotshot answered.

“It’s cause Rooster’s too pussy and Hotshot’s too bitchy,” Hangman added in, “Ya know what… Hotshot’s probably still a virgin.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my sex life? Is yours so boring that you have to fantasize about mine?” Y/N asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sorry babe, not my type,” Hangman smirked and took the pool stick from Bob, “But i’m sure i can make arrangements if you need to let off a lil steam, cause I’m good, Hotshot,” He spoke lowly as he lined up his shot, and without breaking eye contact sunk in the pool ball, “Very good.”

“I think i just vomited in my mouth,” Y/N responded and walked away from Hangman, leaving him to get teased by the other males. Hangman clenched his jaw, his eyes following her as she disappeared and saddled right up next to Rooster on the piano bench.

— — —

Hangman was pissed as he walked on the tarmac. His body felt hot, and it didn’t help that the hot California sun was beating down on him as he marched up to where Hotshot was climbing down from her plane. Phoenix gave her a high five and congratulated her on being the first in their class to actually defeat Maverick in the dogfight. Hangman unbuckled his helmet and threw it, making Hotshot jump in surprise.

“What the hell was that!?” He yelled, the muscles in his neck straining, “You fucking left me!”

“It’s called a dogfight, Bagman, don’t you know how this shit works?” Y/N said, taking off her own helmet.

“You left me fucking hanging!” Hangman had been pissed the second that Maverick broke through them, flying side by side. Hangman was shouting different orders on which way to go, not even bothering to check and see if Hotshot was following. He had checked over his left when Maverick had done a cobra move over him, and at the same time, Hotshot got behind them to shoot both of them down.

“Sounds familiar. . .”

“You fucking bitch,” Hangman seethed and squared up next to her. Their bodies were so close they could feel each other’s breaths. Y/N had to look up slightly as Hangman towered over her, “This is the reason you’re alone and you're dried up. No one that fucking fiance of yours cheated-”

“Enough!” Phoenix yelled, stepping in between the two, “You guys have been nonstop with this petty shit the whole time! It’s fucking annoying. Get over yourselves.”

Y/N scoffed and turned away, walking towards the hangar. Hangman grinded his back teeth as he watched her walk. Bob gingerly held Hangman’s helmet towards him and Hangman rolled his eyes, snatching it back from him.

“Are they ever going to stop?” Bob asked. Their petty fights had been happening all week and everyone was growing tired of it. It was worse in the classroom when they’d go sit after a dogfight or pathway run and Maverick would ask what they did wrong to get the other one or their team killed. They both had a hard time admitting defeat.

“No,” Phoenix said, shaking her head and walking in the same direction of Y/N.

— — —

The hard deck was packed when Hotshot, Phoenix and Bob walked in. Phoenix walked right to the bar ordering her and Hotshot drinks, while Bob made his way to the pool table, spotting Rooster and Fanboy. Phoenix knew exactly what Hotshot needed, ordering them both three shots of vodka each. Hotshot didn’t hesitate as she threw them back in a row and then sucked on the lime Penny had given her.

“Fuck I needed that,” She said, closing her eyes at the bitter taste of the lime, “Where the fuck does Hangman get off thinking he can say shit like that? Bringing up my douche bag of a fiancé.”

“Ex!” Phoenix said, taking a sip of the beer she ordered, “Ex fiancé, meaning you are single, meaning. . . we are getting you laid tonight.”

“What? No, no no no,” Y/N shook her head, “You know the rule!”

“The rule is no banging each other, and it’s not even an actual rule,”

“Just frowned upon,”

“Exactly!” Phoenix exclaimed, “Why not him?”

Y/N looked where Phoenix was pointing, a tall handsome man with brown curly hair, and perfectly sun kissed tan skin. He had a nice smile, Hotshot could give him that, his arms looked toned as he laughed with some of his buddies. Y/N shrugged, she needed the release. She had tried to get herself off but no matter what she did or used or watched, she couldn’t bring herself to the tipping point and it was driving her crazy. It didn’t help that she was sexually frustrated and was constantly fighting with Hangman.

It made her blood boil when he’d even open his mouth and start talking or the simple smirk he’d give her with that stupid toothpick between his perfectly white teeth. Hotshot let out a huff, and grabbed her beer, clinking it with Phoenix’s before walking over to the group. Phoenix bit back a smile as she watched her friend walk over and the guy’s eyes light up. Lt Trace wasn’t the only person who noticed Lt Y/L/N walk over to the group of civilian men.

“Damn, get it Hotshot,” Rooster smirked, watching as she stood in front of the brunette man, him placing his hands on her hip as he guided her hand to throw a dart.

“She can’t throw darts on her own?” Hangman rolled his eyes.

“She’s trying to get laid, lighten up,” Phoenix said, joining the group.

“With him!? What is he? Seventeen?” Hangman said, pointing at the guy.

“Are you jealous?”

“Oh Hotshot? Fuck no, I could bang any woman in this bar-“

As soon as the words left his mouth, the bell across the bar rang. Hangman rolled his eyes as the bar cheered and Penny pointed at him. Hangman kept his mouth shut for the most part the rest of the night, but decided to fight fire with fire and choose a girl of his own to try and sweet talk into being brought home.

Y/N looked over at the group and found Hangman chatting up a girl, giving her that panty dropping smile of his and Hotshot rolled her eyes. She grabbed the guy’s hand, who’s name she found out was Tony, and moved it from his lap so she could stake her claim. Tony smirked, loving the idea of having her pretty self sitting on his lap. Hangman clenched his jaw and pulled the girl he was talking to in between his legs as he sat on a barstool, waiting for his turn in pool.

Hangman had enough the second he saw Tony starting to place kisses on Y/N’s neck and move his hand up her bare thigh. Before he could even really think, he pushed the girl away between his legs and walked over to Y/N. He didn’t even say anything as he grabbed her arm and lifted her away from Tony. Tony stood up to protest, but Hangman gave him a look and Tony sat back down in his seat, knowing better than to try and fight the angry pilot. Y/N tried to rip her arm away, which only made Hangman tighten his grip as he dragged her to the closest bathroom.

“What the fuck,” Hotshot yelled, ripping her arm away. She hardly had time to think, as Hangman slammed her up against the closed door, being chest to chest with her. Their chests fell in sync.

“Do you think it’s okay to just. . . slut it up out there?”

“Me? Slutting it up? How about you and that poor girl who probably confuses her left and-“

“Says the one who was sitting on a man’s lap, basically letting him finger you in a crowded bar,” Hotshot was almost too aware of the way Hangman’s hand skidded along the bottom hem of her dress, “I bet you’d like that, having all eyes on you, that’s why they call you Hotshot.” She clenched her jaw as Hangman dropped his head to speak into her ear. He ghosted his lips on her jaw, making her tilt her head back giving him more access to her neck, “About to give in so fucking easily. God you must really need it.”

“I can go ask Rooster if you won’t. He’d be willing, or maybe even Coyote, or better yet Bob-“

Her words were cut off by Hangman smashing his lips against hers. There was nothing soft about the kissing, it was hot and bruising, as she tangled her fingers in his perfect blonde locks. His hands trailed to the back of her thighs, tapping on them, signaling for her to jump. Her legs wrapped perfectly around his toned torso as he walked them over to the counter. He set her down and his lips went to her jaw and trailed down her neck, sucking and kissing lightly.

“God, you’re such a bitch,” He mumbled against her skin.

“You’re an ass,” She said, pulling on his blond hair, making him look up at her, “I fucking hate you.”

“Likewise,” Hangman smirked and kissed her again. His fingers trailed under her skirt, which had ridden up her tan thighs. Goosebumps rose on her skin as he lazily dragged his middle finger over her clothed slit, “But I make you wet don’t you. Your little pussy is just begging for someone to touch it.” He said in her ear, his breath hot as she arched her back at the feeling. Her nipples were straining through the thin bra she wore underneath her tank top.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I could go home and fix this problem myself,” She said.

“Nothing can ever make you feel as good as I can, babe,” Hangman said, and pushed her panties to the side, his middle finger coming in contact with her clit. She let out a shaky moan at the feeling, and fisted his shirt in her hands, “God now this is a fucking site,” With his free hand, he pushed her skit up, putting her on display, as he ran his finger through her glistening folds, “Look at you, all quiet for once. Tell me what you want,”

“I’ll kill you,” Y/N said breathlessly as Hangman’s finger tapped at her entrance. She shamelessly clenched at the feeling. She closed her eyes; was she really going to beg for this? Pushing her pride aside she opened her eyes and looked at him, “Touch me.”

Hangman smirked and pushed his finger into her. She let out a moan, dropping her head back at the sensation, a slight burn at being stretched out. She hadn’t had anything more than her own fingers in so long, that she felt her walls being stretched. He started slowly, and watched her face as he moved his digit in and out of her. She closed her eyes, her hands on his shoulders, her jaw open in complete bliss, soft moans leaving her pink lips. It was a sight to see, and Hangman wished he could take a picture.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Hangman moaned, feeling the blood rush to his already hard cock, “Fuck I bet you taste sweet.” He moved his finger in and out, making sure to curl against that sweet spot that had her curling her toes.

“Why don’t you put your mouth to good use then,”

“Another day, sweetheart, right now, I wanna be inside you.” Hangman said, taking his hand away from her. She whined at the loss of the feeling and Hangman chuckled, “You whining?”

“It’s not too late for me to go ask Rooster,”

“Yeah, no,” Hangman said, and grabbed her body off the counter, and spun her around. He hiked her skirt up enough that her ass was on display. He grabbed the flimsy thong she was wearing and pulled it down her legs. He put them in his pocket and then grabbed her ass, giving it a squeeze before laying a harsh smack to the skin.

“Fuck!” Y/N moaned, and looked over her shoulder at him, “Again.”

“Kinky,” He smirked and laid another smack to the skin. She moaned, rolling her eyes back, “If this was what I needed to do to shut you up, I would’ve done it years ago,” He said as he undid his belt, and pulled his pants down enough to get his cock out. Y/N looked down, and felt herself clench at the sight of his cock. It was perfectly hard as it rested against his stomach, the tip red and leaking, “You like it, this what you want? If I give you my cock, will you stop being a bitch?”

“No fucking promises,” Y/N said, and pushed her ass back towards him, “Fuck me, or I’ll leave.”

“Shut up,” Hangman groaned, fisting his cock. Y/N shuddered at the feeling as he took his cock and rubbed over her folds, spreading the slick wetness from her cunt around. He lined himself, pushing in her slowly. She closed her eyes at the slight sting of pain as he placed one hand on the counter and the other on her hip. Her pussy took him completely in, as he pushed in and bottomed out, his hips flush with her ass. He began to pull back slightly, feeling her clench around him.

“Don’t-” She said, letting out a shaky breath, “Just-”

“If I don’t move, I’m going to cum,”

“Already?” She smirked looking at him in the mirror.

“Shut up. Your pussy is like heaven. Warm, tight, squeezing me,” His voice seemed to have dropped an octave as he very carefully pulled his hips back and thrusted into her. The moan that left her lips was almost pornographic as she dropped her head forward.

“God, fuck me,” She moaned.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Hangman said and sped up his thrusts.

The feeling was almost too much, as Jake’s cock brushed that spot over and over again. The slight stinging pain she felt moments before had faded away and all she felt was pure pleasure. The hand Jake had on the counter had found its way to her hair, tangling itself in it and pulling. She gasped at the feeling of both pain and pleasure as Jake’s hips went at a relentless speed. His thrusts were fast and deep, the soft pants and curse words leaving his lips.

“Fuck,” He cursed, pulling out of her completely. He turned her around once again so she was facing him, and set her on the edge of the counter, and slipped back into her, “Oh god, you feel so fucking good.”

Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He thrusted deep into her, and it felt like he was grazing her cervix. He smirked as she dropped her head onto his shoulder and thrusted deep and hard again. He could feel her pussy clench around him, and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.

“You like when I do this,” Jake said, thrusting deep again. The only thing she could muster up was a nod, her senses being completely taken over by pleasure, “Look at you, so cock dumb you can’t even use your words.” He picked up his pace, hitting the same spot over and over, deep and hard.

Y/N let out something short of a scream as she fisted locks of his blonde hair in her hands. He took one hand and brought it down between their bodies, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing at it softly. The most beautiful sound left her lips as she closed her eyes, seeing white spots in her vision. Jake could feel her starting to let go and grabbed her throat.

“Ask,” He said, his lips barely touching hers.

“Please-”

“Please what?”

“Can I cum, please oh, fuck please.”

Jake smirked, “You’re such a cockslut, yes you can cum.”

Y/N’s body convulsed as Jake held her and continued to fuck her through her orgasm. The waves of pleasure that rolled through her body was enough to make her lose all sense of thought that she had. Her mind was blank except for the feeling of his cock against her g-spot. The sight of her orgasm, watching her soul basically leave her body was enough to bring Jake to the tipping point. He pulled his hips back to pull out, but Y/N shook her head, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“In me. . . please,” She panted out and Jake nodded, thrusting as deep as he possibly could. They both moaned at the feeling as Jake released himself, shooting white hot cum into her. Jake milked his orgasm and Y/N moaned at the overstimulation. Jake stopped and leaned his head against her shoulder, completely spent. He took a couple seconds to catch his breath before lifting his head up to look at her.

“Your place or mine?”

“Mine,” Y/N said and Jake nodded.

“I’m gonna pull out,” Jake said and Y/N nodded. He grabbed her hips and pulled out, he let out a curse at the way she once again clenched around him, “God it was like your pussy was made for me.” He fixed himself back into his jeans and zipped them up.

“Shut up,” Y/N said, “Hand me my underwear.”

“You mean. . . these,” Hangman smirked, holding up her thong.

“Yes,” Y/N reached out to snatch them back but Hangman moved his hand quickly. Her jaw dropped in complete shock as Hangman brought them to his nose and sniffed them, “You sick fuck. . .”

“Says the one about to walk out with my cum running down her leg.” Hangman smirked, “Hurry up, I’ll meet you in the car.” He kissed her cheek, before opening the door and quickly leaving her to do her thing.

Y/N, very carefully jumped off the counter, hoping to not drip cum on the ground and rushed to the toilet to pee. Once she was done and cleaned herself up and washed her hands, she walked back out to the busy bar and over to her friends. Phoenix had a smirk on her face that Hotshot wanted so badly to smack off her face.

“I’m leaving,” Hotshot said, grabbing her purse.

“I bet you are, and lemme guess,” Phoenix said and whispered in your ear, “Hangman has your underwear.” Y/N’s eyes widened, “Walked over here saying he was leaving, turned around and had a bright red thong hanging out of his back pocket.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Y/N seethed and walked towards the door.

“Use protection!” Phoenix yelled after her, earning herself the finger. She laughed and sat back down on her barstool, “You fuckers owe me, pay up!” The boys groaned as they fished their wallets out of their pockets and paid Phoenix for the bet they placed.

--- --- ---

authors note: thanks for 300!:) here's a lil celebration post. I normally don't write smut, so I hope this wasn't horrible. please be honest and tell me if it was

taglist: @ellabellabus07 @sugarmelonwater @chaoticassidy @persondoingstuff @blindedbyyourgrace17 @n3ssm0nique @ateliefloresdaprimavera @nessamc

taglist form

3K notes · View notes

colemorrison · 3 months

Text

Okay look, I’m not crazy… Well I mean I am a little but it’s fine… Here’s some yandere overwatch..

This will include blood, possessive behavior, blah blah.. Mauga, Ashe, Junkrat, Sombra, Sigma and Ramattra are included.

Mauga :

He was always this over protective right? He threatened anyone who looked at his friends right?

"Where ya going? You're supposed to stay with me remember? Who will protect you and keep you safe if you're not with me?"

The look in Mauga's eyes was slightly scary, desperation pooled in them, he needed you after all. What would he do without you? He'd simply pass away.

"No, no.. You can't go see them. Stay with me, don't you wanna be safe? Darling, I don't want to have to tell you again."

His touches were rough, almost too rough, like he was worried someone would steal you.

"Can't have anyone taking you away from me, mine... All mine."

Ashe :

"Awh how cute, you think you have a chance with them? Oh no, they're mine.. Lay a finger on them and I swear I will show you what hell is."

Her fingers danced over your shoulders, displaying how only she could touch you, touch your body. Ashe was practically dangling you in front of them, showing exactly how much power she had over you.

"Aren't they just adorable? Such a sweet sight, look all you want. But I'm not keen on sharin'."

It happened so fast, painted nails digging into your throat, a shot firing straight past you toward the man, blood splattering across your face and Ashe's.

"No one gets to see my pretty little thing and live. Now.. Each time you think about going toward someone else, speaking to someone else, anything with someone who isn't me, I want you to remember this moment."

Junkrat :

"I'll kill em! They can't have you, you belong to me remember? I will make sure none of them even look at you."

His fingers gripped your skin, he couldn't let you go, his body wouldn't let him, what if you ran away? He can't possibly live without you, you're his favourite person, he needs you.

"Maybe I'll make you a nice little place and keep you here, that way you can never ever leave me. Would you like that? I would, I would love to wake up to you every morning."

Jamie's metallic hand drew hearts all over your back, obsessive traced hearts decorating your skin because of how hard he pressed.

"Mine, mine, mine, mine."

Sombra :

She had access to everything possible, she knew every little thing about you, that thing you wanted to hide and completely forget? Oh.. Olivia knows.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"My birthday? I didn't tell you my birthday."

"You didn't have to, I know everything about you."

Her tone was playful but you could tell she was serious, the way her finger nails traced over the veins in your wrist showed you that..

"You have no idea mi amor, you are everything to me.."

Sigma :

Yes you knew he was insane but this..? Paper's scattered across his room, photos of you, photo's you didn't take. Your name written repeatedly over the walls, it was his own little sanctuary of you.

"See? I love you. No one else loves like I do."

His eyes were full of obsessiveness, insane cackles leaving his throat as he pinned up more photos of you. He needed to be surrounded by you at all times, he would go absolutely insane without it.

"It would be such a shame if this went poorly. I do not wish to kill you and then myself just so no one can have you."

Ramattra :

He took care of you but you weren't allowed to speak to anyone, absolutely no one. If you needed something you ask him, if you need help you ask him. He's learned how to do anything you might need, that way you'll never ever need anyone else.

"What is it? Oh you're hair is tangled? Well let me help you."

Ramattra moved you to sit on his lap, a brush softly going through your hair while his other hand held you by the throat.

"I need you to be still, you can handle this right?"

He chuckled at the small nod you gave.

"Ah.. My wonderful little pet human. No one else even knows you exist anymore, you really do belong to me."

————

Now... I've never written something like this so enjoy, also I wrote this with the help of @bruhhhh-huhhhhh. So he deserves some credit too.

#overwatch #overwatch2 #overwatch imagines #overwatch 2 #mauga #maugaloa malosi #elizabeth caledonia ashe #jamison fawkes #junkrat #sombra #olivia colomar #sigma #siebren de kuiper #ramattra

101 notes · View notes

autumnshighlady · 5 months

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 17)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reunion time

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i am SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! It's been almost 4 months since the last chapter yikes. Life got crazy then I got into a horrible writing block and this is the first thing I've written since July. I'll admit it sucks and is definitely a filler chapter but I promise more exciting stuff to come x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 /

read on ao3

Spotify playlist

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

For the first time in weeks, your eyes open to rays of sunshine instead of cold darkness. Warm, rich scents flooded your senses, so vastly different from the stifling air of the prison cell you had become accustomed to. Instead of smelling damp, cold stone, you were greeted with the smell of fir trees and fresh air. Your limbs felt lighter, the weight of the chains that had been shackled to your wrists for ages long forgotten.The soft touch of a heavy blanket wrapped around you like an embrace, hugging your body.

You squinted at the harshness of the light, eyes not quite used to the brightness of the sun. You groaned and rolled over to get away from the luminous glow, but felt your body collide with something on the bed. After a couple blinks, your eyes began to focus on the lithe figure sitting next to you.

“Nesta…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, her name like a prayer on your mouth as she came into view. Nesta’s tall frame was seated cross-legged next to you, clad in a deep green gown with a wide neckline adorned with a lacy pattern of gold flowers. Her hands were clasped together tightly, resting upon her skirts. Her sharp face was muddled with concern, slate grey eyes hollow like her mind was elsewhere.

But they snapped into focus once again at the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)” Nesta breathed, blinking a few times as if she couldn’t believe it was truly you. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You asked, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows but failing. You let out a groan, flopping back onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t try and sit up yet.” Nesta warned, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been out for two days. Your body has been through so much, the healers said to let you rest as much as possible.”

You took in a breath, taking in the sight of Nesta before you. A thousand emotions swelled up in you all at once, threatening to burst out and paint the room a hundred different colours. Your mate, your beautiful, strong mate had come to save you. Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat swelled up. “Nesta–” You croaked out.

“Shhh.” Nesta shushed, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You got out. We all did.”

You sighed. The escape from the Night Court seemed like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. “Are we in Autumn? I don’t remember getting here.”

Nesta nodded. “You passed out on Zôrzimril after we left Night. We’re in Eris’ personal residence in the woods. Beron doesn’t know you’re here.”

You glanced at the room around you, taking in the rich earthy tones signature to the Autumn Court. It was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings of Night. Lucien had told you that Eris had his own, elaborate place somewhere free of his father in the court. You had never stepped foot in it, until now, but had always wanted to.

“You’re in the room I’ve been staying in.” Nesta continued, a hint of a red blush across her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “Actually, it’s technically Eris’s–”

“Wait,” You interrupted her. “I’m in Eris’s bed? You’ve been sleeping in Eris’s bed?”

Nesta’s blush deepened. “It’s his personal residence. He doesn’t exactly have guest rooms.”

“Where has he been staying then?”

“When he’s not at his father’s palace, the couch, apparently. Don’t feel bad for him, that couch is big enough for 3 people to sleep comfortably, limbs spread out and all.”

You snorted, ignoring the fact that you were laying in Eris’ personal bed. You expected to feel a twinge of jealousy that Nesta had been staying in this room, so up close and personal with Eris. But none came. Something which surprised you, given Nesta was your mate, and mates were supposed to be territorial.

It was like a bucket of ice water was washed over you as you recalled the realisations you came to over the last few days. Nesta didn’t know she was your mate – she thought she was Cassian’s.

Estelle’s words rang in your head. Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.

It confused you – Cassian sure acted like a mated male around Nesta, even more so once Rhys mentioned it at the Court of Nightmares. Why would the High Lord lie about it? Did anyone else know? A million questions swarmed through you, each one louder than the last.

You recalled Nesta telling you the story of Feyre finding out about the mating bond with Rhys. How angry she was when she found out that the male had known for months and didn’t tell her. Deep down, you knew Nesta would be angrier the longer you kept it from her. “Nesta,” You began. “There’s something you need to know–”

“Good morning, my sunshines.” The smooth voice of Eris echoed throughout the room as the door swung open, interrupting you. The prince strolled in, red hair gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. He was carrying a tray, steaming with freshly baked pastries, tea, and fruits. “I see (Y/N) has risen from the dead!”

“You’re not funny, Eris.” Nesta snapped.

“I disagree.” Eris quipped, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “(Y/N) think’s I’m hilarious, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You snorted. “If you pass me that bacon and egg sandwich I’ll give you this one.”

Eris smirked, placing the requested item onto a gold plate and passing it to you. “Deal.”

You eagerly grabbed the sandwich, taking as big of a bite as your mouth would allow. It burned your tongue, but you didn’t care. It took everything in you not to moan as the rich flavours filled your taste buds. “This is amazing.” You mumbled.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Well I suppose anything would taste good after being basically starved in a dungeon.”

“Seriously, Eris. Shut up.” Nesta seethed, shooting a deadly glare at him. You snorted, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of seriousness behind it. Plenty of times you had been witness to Nesta snapping at people, but this was different. Her tone didn’t have the same bite to it that it did with others – no, it was more playful. She turned back to you, eyes softening. “How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Tired. Like I’ve just done the workout of the century and need a week’s worth of sleep. I don’t want to leave this bed for at least another few days.”

Grey eyes met amber ones as Nesta and Eris exchanged an uneasy glance. For that moment, the only sound was the rustling of the wind coming through the windows. “What?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Eris sighed, walking around the corner of the bed. He was dressed in a simple red shirt with loose sleeves, the top slightly unlaced and exposing the pale skin underneath. Very rarely had you seen the prince dressed so casually. He grabbed your ankles through the thick duvet, lifting your legs up slightly and moving them to the side to make space for him to sit across from Nesta. Eris kept his hands on your legs, gently squeezing them.

“You’ve survived a lot of hard things lately, (Y/N).” He said slowly. “And you’ve overcome one of the most difficult parts. But I’d be lying if I said it was going to get a lot easier.”

A lump formed in your throat. Truthfully, over the past few weeks you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of what life would be like if you escaped Night and got to Autumn. There were still dozens of factors to consider, all of which you had given up on figuring out solutions to.

“I have to explain to my father how and why you are here, which will be difficult.” Eris continued. “He already blew a fuse over Nesta’s unexpected arrival. It is likely a second unexpected arrival will be even worse, and he will not take it lightly.”

You shifted in the pillows, running a hand through your hair. Surprisingly, you weren’t met with the knots and tangles you expected from not being able to brush your own hair for weeks. “Your father will hurt you, won’t he?” You said to Eris.

He hesitated before speaking. “Let me worry about that, my dear. We need to convince my father there’s a good reason for you to stay. I’ve already used the marriage card on Lady Nesta here, so we need to figure out something else.”

“What about my…” Your words trailed off as you tried to think of a word to describe what exploded out of you during the escape. “Magic?”

Eris shook his head. “Not an option. He cannot know about that.”

“Why not? Surely he’ll find out eventually?”

“Likely not. Rhysand is not stupid enough to let slip that he let someone with that kind of ability escape his court. And I have reason to believe Tamlin will stay quiet about it as well.”

“Speaking of that kind of ability,” Nesta interjected. “What even was that? I didn’t know you–”

“Yeah, me neither.” You said, locking your fingers together and twirling them around. You lowered your head, avoiding their gazes. “Something…. something happened when I was in there.”

Eris cocked his head, eyes burning with curiosity. “What happened?”

Nesta grabbed your hands, unlocking your clammy fingers and lacing her own between them. She shot a fierce look at Eris. “She doesn’t have to talk about it now.” She hissed.

“Yes, Nesta, she does.” Eris said calmly before turning back to you. “I wish we had more time to let you rest, I really do, but I need to know what happened before I can figure out what story to spin to my father.”

You let out a sigh. “Why can’t we just kill him first so we don’t have to deal with all of this?”

Nesta snorted, earning an eye roll from Eris. “As much as I would love to be rid of my father,” Eris said. “We have to wait before we take him out. There are things that need to be properly aligned, and it takes planning.”

“Haven’t you been planning?” You fired back. “I mean, plotting and scheming is all you do in your spare time, isn’t it?”

A smirk formed at the edge of Eris’s lips. “The officials in this court need to see Beron accept you and Nesta if they’re going to accept you. We risk a coup if we kill him before then. Now, tell me what happened while you were in that cell.”

Nesta’s steady hand on your weak one evened your breathing slightly. You tore your gaze from the pattern on the sheets and you drank in the sight of her as if it could slip away at a moment's notice. She looked stronger, healthier than she had in Night. She carried herself more confidently, less stiff and rigid. She looked more comfortable in her own skin, something that filled you with pride. But also sorrow – sadness at the fact you hadn’t been there to witness this change.

And so you explained everything – the vision you had, the conversation with Estelle, what happened that day Hybern came to your village. Nesta’s face was twisted with confusion and awe as you went on, whereas Eris’ expression was unreadable.

“But that wasn’t everything.” You murmured, heart beginning to race as you prepared to explain the part you dreaded most.

“There’s more?” Nesta asked, eyes wide. “You’re telling me you’re the Mother incarnate, and there’s more than that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes once again. These next few words could ruin everything. You knew Nesta hated the idea of mates, the concept of being shackled to someone just because a higher being thought you’d produce good offspring. Nesta already had to process what Rhysand said about Cassian being her mate, and you were about to make it a whole lot worse. You couldn’t stop those tears from spilling down your face as a sob left your body.

“Hey…” Eris spoke softly, reaching out to brush one of the tears off your cheek. “It’s ok.”

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was cautious, laced with concern.

“You’re my mate.” Your voice shook as you dragged the words out. You fixed your gaze on the sheets again, not wanting to see Nesta’s reaction.

“What?” She said quietly.

“Cassian isn’t your mate,” You said, more steady this time. “I am. Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours.”

For once, not even the wind rustled in response. It was as if the world had gone quiet. You could feel her surprise, like a rush of cold water surging through that link between you two. You tried to reach her through the bond, to get a sense of what else she was feeling, but you were met with a stone cold wall.

Nesta. You tried. But she had shut you out, eyes vacant as she took in the information. Wordlessly, Nesta removed her hands from yours. Your skin cried out at the loss of warmth, missing the contact already. She uncrossed her legs and climbed off the bed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

A sob wracked your body again, harder this time. Wet droplets appeared on the sheets as tears rolled off your face, and you buried your head in your hands. Even after everything you’d endured, this was somehow the worst.

You felt a shift on the bed as Eris scooted up closer to you. “It’ll be okay.” You heard his voice murmur in that scarce gentle tone.

“You don’t know that.” You choked out. One of your fears had come true. Everything you and Nesta had built up over the last few months – the quiet friendship, the few sacred kisses you shared that set your entire body alight, the easiness during training with Gwyn and Emerie, it all came crashing down. Whatever she had felt for you mattered now, she wouldn’t want to be shackled even more than she already has.

“When you were asleep, Nesta spent hours untangling your hair.”

You lifted your head from your hands at Eris’ voice, meeting his soft gaze. “It was a mess,” He continued. “Took her the entire afternoon. But she was so gentle, and not breaking a single strand. She didn’t take a single break, and even after she was done she remained by your side until the sun came up. I set up the couch for her, but she insisted on sleeping next to you.”

Eris gently touched your hand. It was warm against your skin, which you felt was still thawing from the cold of Rhys’ dungeon. “Nesta has had a lot to take in the last few weeks, as you well know. I’ve been training her powers, but my father has insisted that a demonstration of her magic be made before the marriage is to happen. I have no doubt that–”

“Did you know?” You blurted out before the prince could finish his sentence. It was a question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you found out Nesta was your mate – Eris had a knack for finding out things long before others knew. You had no doubt that the second he found out about the spell you and Nesta cast, he had delved into hours of research trying to figure out as much about it as possible. He was a clever male, one who fought with knowledge and scheming rather than brute force like Cassian.

Eris was silent for a moment before speaking. “I suspected. There were too many unknown factors to bring it up, I wanted to be sure before I told Nesta. I found old manuscripts dating back thousands of years – the text was faded, but it went into more details about the specifics of the spell between Estelle and Jayana. There were too many parallels between it and the mating bond. I figured the only explanation was that a mating bond had to already be in place for the spell to truly link.”

You sighed. If Nesta found out that Eris might have known as well and kept it from her, she would be even angrier. “Eris, Nesta doesn’t trust easily. You should have told her this the second you got the idea in your head. Now she’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

“She’s not pissed at you, my dear.” Eris gently stroked your hand with his thumb, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. “Give her a few hours to process. Then we can all sit down and figure out what to do next, okay? Now rest for a bit longer, you need to get your strength back.”

You nodded, heart aching at the image of Nesta storming out of the room. Laying back, you settled back into the plush bedding, wishing it would swallow you up whole. Eris reached down and pulled the duvet closer to you, gently tucking you in. “Sleep well, darling.” He whispered. Before you could process it, Eris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled at the sensation, still feeling like it was slowly thawing from the cold of the dungeon.

There was so much more you wanted to say, a thousand questions you wanted to ask Eris, but the prince retreated as quickly as he came leaving you to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted off again, heart aching at the absence of Nesta’s presence.

*********************

A few hours later, you smoothed your hands over the skirts of the dress Eris’s servants had laid out for you. It was a rich brown colour with a square neckline and loose sleeves -- elegant, yet comfortable. You had no clue where Eris had been pulling this wardrobe from, but that was besides the point. Grogginess continued to plague you, although less so than before. Even with your fae healing, it would take a while for you to return to your full strength – something you had Rhysand to thank for.

Your hands curled into fists, nails scraping through your palms as you thought of the High Lord of the Night Court. A sick feeling curled in your gut as you recalled his smug face as he sent his dark powers slicing through your skin. Every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that dungeon, chained up and helpless against the male. You hated it, hated him. You hated how much his slimy face crossed your mind, how the faint scars along your wrists would never truly fade. Your mind flashed with memories of riding atop Zorzimril, burning down Rhys and Feyre’s many castles, the orange flames lighting up the night sky as you burned and burned them. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel better.

Shaking your head as if to push memories of Rhysand out of your mind, you wandered towards the door on unsteady legs. As the door swung open, you were greeted with a long hallway lined with elegant torches. You looked back and forth, unsure which way to go. You didn’t even know Eris had this residence, let alone how to navigate it. But then you felt something, a slight pull deep inside of you that urged you to go left. Aimlessly, you followed it, wandering down the hallway before coming to a beautiful wooden arch that marked the entryway into the living room. In awe, you scanned the space before you. A series of couches and armchairs were placed around the room, some by a fireplace and some by the high bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. It was decorated in rich autumnal colours, the scent of cinnamon and apple cider filling the air. It had a modest dining table and three chairs, and a set of doors that seemingly led to a pathway outside.

Nesta and Eris occupied two of the chairs, sitting across from each other in silence. Eris was humming quietly, writing something down on a piece of parchment. His red hair looked more orange in the candlelight, and was braided loosely. Nesta sat stoically, staring into nothing. She had a cup of tea in front of her, but no steam emitted from it. Clearly she had been there a while, tea untouched. Her face was grave, but her head whipped to face you as you stepped through the archway.

You wanted to throw up with nerves. You had always been able to read Nesta’s expressions until now. Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions, passing so quickly between each one it was impossible to tell what they were. My mate, my mate, my mate, rang like a war bell in your head so loud it threatened to drown out any sounds from the outside world. You felt the bond in your chest swell in her presence, stronger than anything you’d felt before. There was no denying it – Nesta was your mate.

“May I join you?” You finally managed to ask through a dry throat. Nesta said nothing and just kept staring at you.

“By all means,” Eris piped up, setting his pen down. “Come join the party. We’re having a grand old time here, aren’t we, Nesta?”

You expected Nesta to roll her eyes or snap at him in that playful manner, but it was as if she didn’t even hear Eris. She just kept looking at you as if she wasn’t sure if you were really there. You carefully walked over, taking a seat between Nesta and Eris at the head of the table where the remaining chair was. Her grey gaze followed you the whole way.

“What have you guys been up to while I was out?” You asked.

Eris sighed. “Well, my dear, I informed Nesta of what I began to suspect regarding the bond. She tore me a new one for not telling her, it was very dramatic. So now we’re sitting in silence trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at the lines in the wood of the table. You felt frozen – afraid of saying the wrong thing. Nesta had never wanted to be fae, and you knew having a mating bond must make that worse for her. It would make her even more shackled to this life she didn’t want, chipping away at her remaining humanity piece by piece. Sure, you and Nesta had kissed a few times and there was feeling behind it, but that didn’t mean she wanted you as a life partner. And even with that, Estelle had said Nesta had multiple mates. If Cassian was not one of them, then who was?

Eris’s sigh broke your thoughts. “By the Mother, you two are stubborn.” He huffed. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Nesta, (Y/N), you are mates. I suspected it a few days after I found out about the spell you two cast, as it needed an already existing bond to latch onto in order to work. But then things get complicated. Somehow, Rhys is wrong about Cassian being Nesta’s mate. Either they’re the best actors I’ve seen, or there is something linking Nesta and Cassian.”

You saw Nesta’s throat bob at the mention of Cassian. Trying to figure out how he was connected to Nesta hurt your brain.

“I felt something with Cassian,” Nesta said tensely. “Not in that way, but I could feel what he felt as if part of him lived within me. How is that not a mating bond?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. There’s something strange going on there. However, none of that matters until we deal with my father. I am set to marry Nesta, which puts us in an awkward situation. If Nesta pleases my father with her powers, then she is to be wed to me.”

“When is that supposed to be happening?” You asked. You weren’t sure how you felt about Eris and Nesta getting married. Part of you was jealous, resentful at the idea of Nesta marrying someone else. But there was another part of you that felt differently in a way you couldn’t explain. Like you were being left out not just from Nesta’s life, but Eris’s too.

“Tonight.” Eris said gravely.

Your blood froze. “Tonight?”

“Yes. And no offence my dear, but you complicate things. Because now I have to explain to my father why you are here too and why I keep letting in strays.”

You snorted. “Beron’s going to kill me. I think you already pissed him off by letting Nesta in here without his permission. I’m not even half as valuable to him as she is, we both know he won’t have any use for me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Nesta finally spoke, her voice fierce. You turned to face her and were met with her silver eyes. They stared into you, swimming with a thousand emotions.

“Whatever happens, Beron won’t touch you.” She continued evenly.

“We just have to play the angle right.” Eris said, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. “You spied for Rhysand, correct?”

You scoffed. “Well, technically–”

“Yes, you did.” Eris interrupted sternly. “You spied for Rhysand, and then you found out what he was planning and tried to flee. He’s been hunting you down, and I found you at the Autumn Court border. That is the story we are going with.”

“What exactly did I find out that made me flee?”

“That he’s planning on becoming High King with Nesta’s Made sword.”

“Beron won’t believe that.”

“He will because it’s true.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. “What?” You spoke in a whisper, mind reeling in shock. The thought of Rhysand using Nesta’s weapons and declaring himself as High King over all of Prythian made you want to throw up.

“Based on my intel, the lovely Amren has been trying to convince him to go down that path.” Eris explained through gritted teeth. “Apparently he refused at first, but I strongly believe that with you and Nesta both having fled his grasp, he will reconsider his stance to get you back under his control.”

“If Rhysand was High King then he’d have dominion over the Autumn Court,” You muttered. “We would be right back where we started.”

Eris nodded. “But we can use this. My father would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen, overlook anything. If you inform him of Rhysand’s plans, he’ll want you on his side for more intel.”

“Would Beron really be so quick to trust someone who’s supposedly betraying their own court?”

“My dear, Rhysand locked you in a dungeon. That part we don’t have to lie about. We just have to twist the reasons why he locked you up. But truthfully, I think my father will be so distracted by the intel he won’t care about anything else.”

You chewed on your lower lip with worry. It was a big gamble, and while Eris was clever Beron was still unpredictable. So many things could go wrong so fast, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in another dungeon. The thought of doing so made you want to curl up into a ball.

As if sensing your discomfort, Nesta placed her hand on top of yours. It was warm, such a difference from how frail and cold her hands were in the Night Court. “It’ll be ok.” She murmured.

You smiled softly, relaxing instantly under her touch.

“And that’s my cue,” Eris announced, gathering his papers and standing up. “I suspect you two have much to discuss alone. I must go ensure everything is prepared for dinner with my father tonight. I’ve left instructions with the servants on how to get you ready, and I will be by to collect you both at five o’clock.”

He strode towards the archway, but paused briefly. Amber eyes landed on you and Nesta again, all playfulness gone. “I have done my part, and will do whatever I can to ensure your safety.” He said gravely. “But do not forget that you both have roles to play, and we all risk our heads if you fail to do so. And if you have any thoughts about betraying me to save your own skin, Beron will no longer be the one you need to fear from my family. I will throw you both to the wolves without hesitation if you think about dragging me down with you.”

With that, the prince left, leaving you and Nesta sitting in silence. Eris’s words stung you a bit, that he thought you would even think about betraying him. But Eris had been playing this song and dance with his father for centuries, and at the end of the day no matter how much he’d helped you, he’d always look out for himself. It was something you were aware of when you planned this, and you mentally kicked yourself for ignoring it.

The few minutes after Eris’s departure were filled with silence. No birds chirped in the windowsill, no breeze rustled the branches. It was as if the world had stopped, waiting on the edge of its seat for you and Nesta to speak.

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. How could you comprehend what Nesta felt when you didn’t even know how you truly felt? A part of you had always loved Nesta, but were those your true feelings or just the mating bond? All those tender moments, the stolen kisses, the soft touches, would they have happened if the mating bond wasn’t already there? The thought of your connection with Nesta stemming from magic rather than your true feelings made your heart hurt. You had never wanted a mating bond, yet here you were.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, you found the courage to speak. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nesta?”

Nesta took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers for a minute before answering. “How a few weeks ago I was ready to burn down the entire Night Court to get you back. How every second you were in that dungeon I was here, living comfortably. How every time I closed my eyes I saw glimpses of darkness, how I felt your fear. How all that time, I thought it was the spell allowing me to feel those things. I never could have imagined…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to even speak about the bond. “Me too,” You replied. “Look, I know things are hard for us right now. And you don’t have to accept the bond if you don’t want–”

Nesta sharply cut you off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to accept it. I just don’t know what to believe right now. Estelle said Cassian wasn’t one of my mates, but I swear I felt a bond. Was she wrong about that? And does that mean she was wrong about us?”

“I can’t speak for Cassian, but I don’t think she was wrong about us. And I think you know it too, Nesta.”

Nesta looked up at you, grey eyes brimming with emotion. You felt a gentle tug at the bond and inhaled sharply. She smiled softly at your reaction, confirming everything she needed to know.

“Nesta…” You breathed her name like a prayer on your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you admired that tender smile.

“I’m sorry for running off on you earlier.” She said quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. You, being my mate. After everything that happened between us…”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears. “But was all of it real? I mean, if we were mated the whole time, did everything happen between us because of the bond, or because of us?”

Nesta blinked slowly. “It was real to me.”

“Me too.”

You stroked Nesta’s wrist with your thumb, rubbing it in circular motions. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling everything both you and Nesta were experiencing at once. All you wanted to do was sit here and stare at your beautiful mate, forgetting about everything else. To let the rest of the world fall away beneath your feet as long as you could stay in this moment forever.

But realistically, you knew you had to face the challenges. “What about Eris?” You asked quietly. “You’re supposed to marry him, where does that put us?”

The Archeron sister bit her lip anxiously. “I don’t know. I’m sure Eris and I will be free to see whomever we wish as long as we are discreet and are able to maintain our image.”

You laughed humourlessly. “So then I’d become your mistress.”

“That’s not what I want for either of us. But I don’t see another way right now.”

You tried not to let it sting. You weren’t stupid – Eris marrying Nesta was necessary in your plan, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially now that you two were mated. The thought of simply being your mate's secret mistress made you feel slimy and ashamed. “How do you feel about marrying Eris?” You asked tentatively.

Nesta shrugged, but a faint red stained her cheeks. “It’s a smart move. It makes sense. And he’s not the worst male I’ve met so I think I’ll live.”

You chuckled, causing Nesta to glare at you. “Your face is red, Nesta. Admit it, you like him.”

“I don’t. He’s insufferable.” Nesta’s face only grew redder as she looked away.

Your laugh only grew louder. “Liar.”

“Fine!” Nesta snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks and he’s grown on me, ok? Does it not bother you as my mate for me to admit I like him? It feels wrong. I’m mated to you, not him.”

“No.” You answered honestly, which surprised you. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s charming. Besides, I’ve had a crush on him since I was like twenty, so…”

Your voice trailed off with embarrassment as you realised what you had just admitted. You had never told anyone about your crush on Eris, and had been determined to die with this secret. Your face went red, and Nesta burst out laughing.

“Look whose face is red now?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands. “If you ever tell him I said that I’ll strangle you.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, please. He’s Eris. He probably already knows.”

You groaned, banging your head into the wood of the table a few times. It was strange and yet comforting to know that Nesta liked Eris. You expected a mately surge of jealousy and possessiveness, but none came.

After a few more minutes of laughter, a comfortable silence took over the room before you each chose a book from the shelf and began to read. The hours began to pass by, and you stared at Nesta as she flipped through the pages, how beautiful she was with the autumn glow upon her. You wanted to memorise every inch of her features before the dinner with Beron tonight, the thought of which made your gut churn.

It was a quarter to five when the shuffled footsteps of four servants came into the room. It was time to prepare.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-9 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @

84 notes · View notes

gucciwins · 1 year

Note

how are firefighter!harry and yn doing this winter?🎄i feel like harry would be constantly worried about yn because it’s so cold. like making sure she has hot water bottles every day when he’s not there to warn her himself. or even they go ice skating hes so worried for her safety. or yns worries when harry gets called out on a join in like blizzard weather :((☃️❄️

I love you, no one has asked about firefighter!harry in the longest time. So thank you so much for allowing to write about him again. enjoy this 1.8k blurb

____

“Angel, your gloves,” Harry places them in her hand, taking her hot cocoa from her hand as he waits for her to put on her black mittens.

“The cocoa was keeping me warm,” she mutters.

Harry shakes his head; he constantly worries about Y/N, but that triples during the winter. She shared how the winter is her least favorite season until it snows, then it’s all she will talk about. He’s sure if he wasn’t around, her poor hands would have been close to falling off from the cold.

“You made me put on a hat and two extra layers, Harry.”

He sighs, tugging her to sit on his lap; her purple corduroy puffer covers her face. He moves it to the side, happy to see a smile on her face. “My angel, you know I don’t want you falling sick.”

Y/N lets her hands rest over his shoulder, happy to be wrapped up in his warmth. She lets her hands play with the small curls that peek from the beanie on his head, showcasing his firefighter house.

“But I’m going to get hot as we skate, H.”

“Rather you start sweating, firebug, than for you to be cold.”

She nods, giving in. He’s only watching out for her, and she isn't making it easy. He had even helped her lace up her skates before getting her hot cocoa. She didn’t even have to ask. He knew that she would want one as soon as they arrived because of the aroma, and she never said no to a good warm cup of yumminess.

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

The grin on Harry’s face is something that will always fill her with warmth. He leans his head, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Always, angel. Now drink up. We got skating to do.”

“Will we get donuts after?”

Harry chuckles, “only if you’re good.”

She presses kiss after kiss to his cheeks and then his lips, and Harry knows he’d get her anything she wished for.

After their successful ice skating date, where Y/N happens to be more graceful than on her two feet, they went home to coffee and donuts. Y/N loved the shop right by their house; as always, Y/N ate one before exiting the shop. It’s a reason Harry always buys seven instead of six.

Sundays are their favorite days together because they both have the day off and dedicate it to each other. Sometimes it’s going out, and other times it’s staying at home under the covers watching old seasons of Survivor on their TV. Harry was a big fan, and Y/N was quick to fall down the rabbit hole with him when he played her his favorite season. It’s always their day.

Monday is a work day for both of them, where Y/N goes in for her 12-hour shift at the hospital, and Harry goes to the firehouse for his 24 hours. They might not see each other, but there is a constant string of texts on their phone to show that they are constantly thinking about one another.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you, angel?” Harry asks his girlfriend this morning as they both finish getting ready.

She shakes her head as she puts away her mascara. “Promise I’ll drive safe, H.” Y/N drapes her hands around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss he happily leans into. “Plus, I don’t want your hard work to go to waste. I know you cleared the driveway and cleared off the snow on my windshield.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, angel,” he mutters against her lips.

Y/N gives him one last peck before pulling away. “It does to me. Plus, how will I get home after my shift if you’re at the fire station?”

He sighs, giving in, knowing you’re right. “But you’ll call me when you arrive and get home.”

She smiles; he’s such a worry wart. Not that she blames him, she’s given him many reasons to worry from the moment they met after so many accidents. Yet, since he’s come into her life, there has been none because he’s always a moment away to save her from trouble, whether it’s an overflowing pot on the stove or maintaining the upkeep of her car.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry grins, happily showing off the dimples she loves to see. “I love you, too, firebug.”

_______

Y/N had been inside all day making her rounds with the young patients, ensuring their vitals were good and giving them new activities to have in their room. Most wanted colors and paper to make drawings for nurses and their families to hang around. She did not go out for lunch instead ate pasta that her friend Crystal offered, telling Y/N that she brought an extra plate for her. It also meant she did not see the snowstorm that had been growing since the morning.

It wasn’t until a patient was rushed in by a father and his daughter coming home from the market that a truck ran into them, the conditions not letting the drivers see the traffic light or any other cars. It was a head-on collision. The father was rushed to emergency surgery while the daughter was sent to have a scan as she only seemed to have a few cuts on her face. The other driver suffered a broken leg and arm; thankfully, no surgery would be needed for him.

Soon after, the emergency alerts landed across all phones, the beeping loud and insistent as they were warned of the blizzard taking place. Y/N knew she would be safe staying inside the hospital, but her worry increased as she thought of Harry and all the calls they would be getting. She knew he was trained and prepared, but it did not decrease her worry.

Y/N excused herself, finding a quiet room to give Harry a call knowing that hearing his voice for even a second would calm her. The phone rang, and she knew he was out on a call.

“H, I-I know you’re out doing your job. I know you promise me that you’ll do your best to stay safe every time, but some things are out of your control. But for me, please come home to me. I promise to stay warm,” she giggles, knowing it’s always his biggest concern about her never dressing appropriately for the weather. “I love you.”

She hangs up and holds her head high. She’s seen him work and knows he does everything with his heart. At the end of the day, she trusts him and will wait to see him home.

There was a constant flux of patients coming in from injuries or to simply wait out the blizzard. The cafeteria was buzzing, and so was the Emergency room, but Y/N was still aware that her phone had yet to ring but knew that meant he was okay. It was only a few more hours. She could make it through.

As her shift was ending, the storm was still intense, and she was too nervous to drive home and stayed the night in the hospital instead. She knew she could sleep in one of the cots in the break rooms, but for now, she’d work. Being there meant she was an extra hand to help. There were endless blankets passed around, something she was thankful for was that the power did not go out, meaning the store had not progressed. The news had informed them it would be gone by morning, but for now, she had to swallow her worries and continue to work. It wasn’t until close to the early morning that she sent Harry a final text and tried to rest a few hours before driving herself home.

“Angel, come on.” Y/N hummed as she felt Harry rubbing her back and felt safe to turn and snuggle closer to his warmth. He laughed, “Come on, let me take you home.”

Y/N blinked her eyes slowly and was surprised to see Harry sitting next to her, “Harry,” she breathed out.

“Hi, my angel.” Harry grins as she quickly sits up and throws her hands around him, burying her face in his neck and allowing herself to breathe him in.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she repeats over and over again.

“Mhmm…we had a busy night. I’m sorry I couldn’t call.” She shakes her head because it doesn’t matter, not when she has him in her arms.

“You’re okay.”

Harry pulls her back, wanting to see his angel’s face. Her eyes are teary, and he feels his heartbreak knowing she was worried for him, but he’s so proud of her because she stayed here instead of bracing the store. He knows she was his strong girl, but tonight she was his brave girl for staying, not trying to brave out the storm. She also did it, he knows to ease his worry. When Harry’s on call, they’re all reminded to leave family and all other concerns behind because, as Lieutenant, he has other lives to worry about, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t take time to think about his love. Y/N was always at the forefront of his mind. She was never something he pushed aside because she was his home. She was who guarded his heart, and knowing that she was okay was enough to ease his beating heart.

“I’m okay, angel.” He promises her. “Nothing happened. Promise I was careful.”

“I’m sorry for all the calls and texts,” she looks away bashful, knowing she might have gone overboard.”

Harry shakes his head, guiding her face gently to look back at him. “You’re okay, angel. I appreciated each text and voicemail. It left me calm knowing you were okay and that you were thinking of me.”

“Always think of you,” she shares, and Harry coos he really needs to get her home.

He presses a chaste kiss to her lips, but she follows after him deepening it, and he lets it go for a moment too long before backing up. “Let me drive you home, angel. We can take a warm shower and sleep before our next shifts.”

“The storm?”

“Long gone,” he promises.

“My car is here.”

Harry chuckles. She’s always one to worry about every little thing she must have learned from him. “I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.”

“Okay, H.”

He helps her up, helping her slip her hoodie on and then zipping up her puffer until she’s all bundled up, ready to brace the cold outside. He knows she’s pouting at all the layers but is thankful Y/N indulges in his small worries.

“I feel like a marshmallow.”

“At least you’re a cute marshmallow,” he teases.

“Harry!” She drags out.

“Let’s go home, firebug. Got some warming up to do.”

“Hot chocolate?”

“Mhmm.”

“And kisses?”

“Lots of them,” he promises.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles firefighter #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb

758 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 5 months

Note

Heyy how are you? Could write prompt 5) “Kiss you in a crowded room” from the midnights prompt list for Tim Bradford? Thank you :)

Part One: Monster

Part Two: The Gaslight (NSFW)

Part Three: Stalemate

Tim wants to marry you. He’s thought about it so many times since the two of you got together, he always assumed it was inevitable. Now as he sits at the front desk during the night shift, sifting through the most ridiculous shit the public has to offer, he realises that that possibility is getting further and further away because Captain Ashmore is never going to let you go.

It's been over a month since his Captain pulled him into his office, demanding that he disclose your location. His refusal had left him relegated to desk duty for the first week, his punishments steadily getting worse the longer the stalemate continues.

Ashmore can’t outwardly fire him. There are procedures in place, the union to contend with, appeals if he tries but he can make Tim’s life miserable, he can stall his career, destroy his future prospects.

Tim’s willing to risk all of it to keep you safe, because that look in the other man’s eyes when he showed Tim that picture, he knows he’s going to kill you. Tim’s worked enough DV cases to see the signs.

The others have tried to talk to him about his predicament, but he’s kept his mouth shut, told them to mind their own business. He doesn’t want the Captain coming down on any of them, assuming that their co-conspirators so he keeps his distance. He hasn’t seen you since the night before Ashmore pulled him into his office. He’d managed to swipe Chen’s phone to send you a text.

“He knows.”

There had been no contact since.

It’s Angela that breaks his silence.

It’s 3am in the breakroom when she corners him. He’s sipping a coffee and flicking through your old Instagram images, ones before you abandoned the account. There’s one of the two of you from Angela’s wedding, him in a tuxedo and you in that silk, cornflower blue dress. He remembers undressing you that night, the fabric fluttering to the floor in his bedroom, your lipstick marks leaving a trail down his body.

“I need to talk to you.” Angela says interrupting his thoughts as she sits down across from him. She has a brown manilla folder in her hands and already the dread is climbing in his chest. “Captain Ashworth has asked me to look into something.”

When she flicks open the folder he sees your picture, the one from the academy and his heart just stops.

“Noones heard from her since she took that leave of absence. There’s been no posts on her socials, her phone’s switched off, her house is locked up. No movement on any of her accounts. He suspects foul play.” He leans back in her seat and shakes her head. “I thought she just needed some space after what happened with that kid. I didn’t think…”

Angela trails off and Tim can see that guilt, how much it weighs on her. The two of you were partners before you took off. You’d told her, you needed a break, that the Chapman case was too much. Finding out what that little girl’s father had done had almost broken you, but it wasn’t the reason you left.

It’s a devious move, one that even Tim didn’t see coming. Angela is an excellent detective, she’s tenacious and loyal, leading her to think that her friend is in danger is only going to add fuel that fire. That woman won’t stop until she tracks you down.

“The two of you were close, did she say anything...”

Tim swallows hard against the anguish in his chest, his jaw clenches because all of this… It’s just too much to carry on his shoulders, he can’t keep going it alone, not when Ashmore is pulling shit like this.

“Angela, she isn’t missing.” Tim says reaching over the table and closing the file. “She’s on the run.”

Love Tim Bradford? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

@malindacath @anime-weeb-4-life @burningpeachpuppy @viridianphtalo @vermillionwinter @kmc1989

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #the rookie #tim bradford the rookie

89 notes · View notes

goddess-in-heaven-and-hell · 5 months

Text

Invisible Strings Pt. I - Gwynriel One-Shot

Surprise attack lol. I'm alive.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: language related to war and violence, angst

Gwyn and Azriel have to part ways before the Shadowsinger flies off to war.

Gwyn always liked the moments just before a storm. When the heavens brew up a potion of lightning and thunder, winds picking up speed and oceans growing wild with restless energy. It was like the world came to a momentary halt, nature stopping its breath for a second. Then, chaos erupts. During times like this, the priestess usually finds herself nestled into a cozy armchair by a big window, watching with rapt attention from the security of her home.

But what happens if your home suddenly became the center of the storm, tension building painstakingly slow? What if your very foundations started to shake and crack, and you didn’t know which way to run for safety?

Only two days ago did the autumn court and Koschei’s army declare open war against the allegiance of Prythian. Even though the territory of the Night Court wasn’t a battleground, their troops were currently flying and marching south – to meet either victory or their end. Cassian and Nesta have been gone for two weeks now, scouting and preparing for battle.

To say Gwyn was a nervous wreck was an understatement. The mere thought of Nesta and Cassian sent her spiraling. The heaviness of war loomed in every dark corner of the library, in the shadows of her room. With a surge of anxiety came the shame – because was she really standing there, in the warm and safe halls of the House of Wind, panicking and feeling sorry for herself, when her friends faced the real threat?

When Azriel was about to head into the center of fighting?

She would just about manage to go about her routine if it weren’t for that that little, persistent, cruel thought. It snuck up on her all throughout the day, only to leave her shaking between the rows of books. Azriel would join their friends tomorrow morning. And she might never see him again.

Bracelet in one hand, a light in the other, Gwyn ascended the stairs leading to the house proper. She didn’t even know where he chose to spend his last moments in peace, but her legs carried her all the way to his room nonetheless. The light pouring through the slit of his door told her enough, yet she still didn’t quite know how to go about this. What could she possibly say to make this situation better? Did he even want a ‘goodbye’, or was he better off pretending that this moment wasn’t as severe as it felt? Her shaking fingers placed the bracelet in her pocket, then formed a fist to knock on the door.

Upon entering, Gwyn couldn’t help but notice how perfectly normal everything looked. His bed was as pristine as ever, a fire burning merrily in the hearth, Azriel slouching over papers in front of it. But his bags were packed, weapons stashed neatly by the door. Gwyn’s eyes stung with tears that she quickly blinked away.

“Hey you.”, she offered a greeting, her voice only wobbling slightly. Azriel looked up from his reports, face neutral, if not slightly amused.

“Gwyn.”, he replied, nodding his head towards the couch for her to sit. She obliged, if only to give her knees a rest, while Azriel stood to stack away the documents. Up to this point, it was routine. For the past year or so, they found themselves drawn to each other, with Gwyn visiting him in the library or his room for evening chats, or Azriel coming down to her workplace for a quick lunch.

“Would you like something to drink, eat?”, he asked casually as he resumed his seat in the armchair before the fire. Gwyn declined, fidgeting slightly in the loaded silence that ensued. But he wasn’t offering her a conversation starter, and she didn’t know how to voice her own thoughts.

Gwyn knew for a fact he knew why she was here, that she physically couldn’t bear the thoughts of battle in the loneliness of her own room and had to see for herself one last time. To see his face: brows furrowed in concentration as he read, the little tilt to his head when he listened to one of her pointless stories, the rare, but ever so beautiful grins when she managed to surprise him with some unexpected quirk of hers.

But laughter was the last thing on her mind now. And the more she looked at him, the blurrier her vision got.

Azriel let out a startled, slightly pained laugh as the first tear escaped down her cheek. Gwyn tried to blink the rest away furiously, but all that ended up doing was produce more waterworks. She barely noticed Az kneeling in front of her and gently reaching for her hands. Only as the warmth of him seeped into her cold fingers, and she beheld his amused expression, did she choke out a laugh as well.

“You know, I came here tonight to cheer you up.”, her voice came out all weird. It held all the pent-up emotion from the past weeks, mixed in with the absurd comic of the situation. Gwyn couldn’t help thinking that she behaved exactly like one of the book characters of long passed times, the hysterical damsel in distress. If she fainted now, she’d sink straight through the wooden floor all the way into the mountain itself.

The way she was feeling, she wouldn’t have put it past herself.

“Worked like a charm.”, the Shadowsinger reply wryly while caressing the backs of her hands with his thumbs in a soothing manner. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you ‘cheery’, but you definitely offered distraction.”

Gwyn’s lips stretched into one of those smiles that only needed one more depressing thought to slip into full-on wailing.

“I can’t bear it.”, she whispered, shaking her head.

“It’s just war, Gwyn. It happens every few decades, and so far, I’ve managed to survive quite a lot of it.”, Azriel, bless his soul, was trying to reason with her. “Besides, believe me when I say I have entered spying missions that posed more of a danger to me than open battle. I can look after myself. And if I fail, there are hundreds of other warriors out there who have my back.”

He has talked enough for the tears to subside slightly. Gwyn listened with furrowed brows, trying very hard to focus her vision enough so that she might soak up the look on his face. She contemplated his reassurances for a bit.

“Sounds like a lot of bullshit to me, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel only grinned back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The nerve of this male!

“You’ll be the death of me.”, she said, feeling a little more like herself. Enough so that her cheeks started to stain slightly. Did she really just come to his room only to break out into tears? When she was the one waking up in her safe, comfortable room tomorrow morning without the prospect of dying?

“Gods, Az, I’m so sorry.”, she quickly whiped away her tears, only briefly mourning the loss of his touch. There were more important things to focus on tonight that her stupid crush. “I shouldn’t have barged in like that. I didn’t even know if you wanted company tonight or just some silence. I can only imagine how stimulating and stressful a war camp might be and now I’ve robbed you of your last moments of peace.”

She winced apologetically, her hands clinging to each other in her lap. “If you’d like, I can go and we forget this ever happened.”

But Azriel held onto her as she made to stand up, effectively making her bounce back onto the sofa. “Don’t go, please.”

The look they shared as he said that could have measured a second or a minute. Either way, Gwyn was unable to tear herself away from his gaze, the sudden intensity in it. But she managed to nod, leaning back on the sofa and assuming what she hoped was a natural and relaxed position.

For the next hour or so, Gwyn tired her very best to ignore the looming threat hung above the room like stormy, dark cloud. She tried to be as engaging and bubbly as usual, because that was what he deserved. Distraction, and a bit of amusement, to get him through the night.

They only noticed the time passing when the House dumped another log of wood into their nearly dying fire. Two sets of eyes flicked to the hearth, then to the clock in the corner, two pairs of legs sprung into motion.

“I am so sorry Az. You should have been in bed-“

“for about two hours.”, Az concluded slowly, as if coming out of a trance. “I’ll walk you to the stairs, yes?”

They went in silence, any pretense of normality broken. Gwyn counted the steps they took from his room to the stairs, each one thundering more loudly in her head than it should. She couldn’t shake the feeling of profound panic, of her life being over as soon as she stepped foot into the library.

So she stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Azriel to turn around.

“I’ll come with you.”, she blurted out, her body so full of adrenaline she didn’t even feel fear mixing into her personal cocktail of emotions as well. “Why didn’t we think of that! I just come with you, and I’ll help you with your work and help with the wounded and then it will be over more quickly.” She nodded to herself as she rambled, barely registering what she said. “I can share a tent with Nesta, I can clean, I can even fight if worse comes to worse!”

“Gwyn, you can’t honestly mean that.”, Azriel’s low voice was like a balm that settled over her anxious heart. With him, she could do it. Could face war.

“Yes, I do mean that.”, Gwyn replied, “I’ll be of no use in the library anyways, way too distracted and fidgety to do any proper work. We can ask Clotho for permission right away.”

Gwyn moved past him, her body working on autopilot, to inform Clotho of her apparent death wish. But a warm, solid hand grabbed her forearm and gently pulled her back. Towards an even warmer, sturdier body. Before she could react, her whole being was enveloped in the scent and feel of Azriel. Gwyn’s panicked mind decided she liked it there. It felt like home.

“No.”, Azriel simply said, wrapping both his arms around her and holding her close.

Gwyn made to protest, but Azriel’s voice continued to rumble through his chest. “I’m not saying you aren’t a good fighter, and I am not saying that because you’re a female you should stay here. But hear me out please?”

Gwyn nodded against his chest, her own arms now finding purchase on his back.

“War is different than anything you have ever seen before. It’s not like the Blood Rite, where you are spread out across fields and woods and sporadically fight, or simply avoid it. War means close fighting, shoulder to shoulder, having to step over your own dying allies to push back the enemy. War is loud, and chaotic, and absolute hell on earth.”

The priestess was crying into his shirt now, trying to listen to the truth in his words, trying to acknowledge the fact that her knees wanted to give out at the mere thought of such a scenario. But that other, unreasonable part of her did not want to let him go there on his own.

“Gwyn, war means you’ll have to stay in a camp full of warriors. All of them sizable, all of them getting increasingly angry and lonely as time passes. And as much as I’d wish for it, I wouldn’t be there all of the time to keep an eye on you. Nesta and Cassian won’t either. Do you hear me, love?”

He pulled back, coming face to face with her. Gwyn whispered a defeated ‘yes’. She hadn’t even found the courage to visit Velaris yet, still jumped when hearing male voices that weren’t familiar to her. What on earth made her think she could face this?

“I’m sorry to leave you behind.” Azriel shook his head, his hand coming up to reach for her face, only to be dropped again after a second. “But in all honesty, I’m not sure if I could do my best while knowing you’d be there.”

Gwyn nodded, stepping away from him just a bit. Her mind had gone all fuzzy with the smell of him. “I understand. Maybe… maybe next time?”

She didn’t understand immediately why he laughed at her words. All her body knew was sadness.

“What?”

Azriel’s voice still held some laughter as he answered, “Only you would wish for another war to happen just to prove me wrong.”

Gwyn realized what she said a second later. Gods, she must have forgotten her brain in the dormitory before coming up to meet him. What was happening to her?

“So, this is goodbye?”, she concluded, finally feeling the cold of the stairway creeping up her legs and arms now that the Shadowsinger didn’t scare it away.

“Yes. But only a temporary one. I’m not easy to kill.” Now, his hand did come up to cup the side of her face, his thumb wiping away the tear stains. She caught his wrist with her own hand, stepping close to him again and – encouraged by whatever condition her mind was currently in – pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.

“Promise me to write. And promise me to stay alive.”, she said, her voice again wobbly with emotion.

Azriel had a pained look on him. Like a man deeply regretting something and wishing with all his heart to turn back time. But he managed to repeat the promise to her. And he managed to keep his distance, despite the slight lean of his body towards her.

“Oh!”, the priestess exclaimed with a start. If she had forgotten, she’d have kicked herself repeatedly for the foreseeable future! Reaching in her pocket, she rummaged out the bracelet she made for him. It seemed pathetic now, really, the delicate strings of yarn next to the Shadowsinger.

But his eyes softened as he beheld the present. “I wanted to give that to you. You don’t have to wear it, of course!”, she quickly added, now thinking he might not want to parade this token of affection around in a war camp. “But I like to think it’ll protect you.”

Azriel swallowed. Then he simply held out his right arm. Her fingers, thankfully, did not shake as she managed to tie it around his wrist. Blue for his siphons, black for his Shadows, and white for peace and protection. The charm she knotted into the bracelet held her wish for him, that he might return to her in one piece.

“I’ll honor it. And my promises to you.”, he said. And before Gwyn could fathom what happened, her Shadowsinger wrapped himself around her once more, squeezing with more force than necessary. “I’ll come back to you, love. And I’ll make things right.”

Gwyn didn’t really know what he meant, but her heart danced around her chest regardless. Also, did he just call her ‘love’? It sounded so natural, so normal that she almost didn’t catch it.

After a while, he pulled away again.

“See you around, Berdara.”

She didn’t find the right words to reply immediately. When she finally did, he was long gone, blended in with the Shadows surrounding them.

And with this second, piercing her chest like a strike of lighting, her own personal hell had begun.

#gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #pro gwynriel #acotar #azriel #gwyneth berdara

73 notes · View notes

athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 3 months

Text

Green Carnation

Chapter Two

I want to say how happy I am to see a lot of ppl like this fic. I will say it was a bit personal to write this and had to even talk to my friend about the subjects of this fic that it touches. So I want to thank them for helping me and also tell you all: you are very loved <3

Again pls read the warning and keep yourself safe

Rated: Explicit | Warnings: open relationship, there is gender play/crossdressing in this chapter. Norton calls the reader 'Mrs. Campbell' as they/he cannot marry him during this time but it all plays into a fantasy and is not said in a way of demeaning but in a way of affection.

Chapter One

The molly house, a speakeasy your wife took you to, is full of high society types. Here you found out a lot about yourself. Your wife, you love her to pieces, was supportive the whole way.

The place is not popular in the sense not many people travel this far to go here for there are others. The rustic charm and the memories of your friend keep you here.

You think about him, your friend and lover, he was a good man. Older and loved talking about his work with technology. The subject is sore for you and you come to the conclusion maybe you would never find a man like him; you won't but something new is not so bad.

Norton is at the check-in desk getting the large suitcase, holding a surprise, a quick search. You went ahead inside to see if your wife was still watching the burlesque show. Her lover, a woman you find pleasant, is sitting next to her. She points you out to your wife.

You smile glad to see them both. Her lover waves at you before going back to watch the show.

She kisses you for a few seconds with her arms around your neck, “I thought you weren't coming.” Pulling back. She is beautiful, always beautiful, wearing the latest dress from France. Your wife is from very old money thus your father had your marriage arranged for social climbing. Lucky you, she likes you— Loves you.

“Sorry, got uh…” Rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

Norton comes up behind you with a neutral expression for your wife, “Fancy seeing you.” The suitcase is no longer with him, “They're getting us a room.” He informs you.

Your wife is confused and looks ready to also protect you. “It's okay. He asked to come here.” You say with a smile for her to know you are truly okay.

“And you trust him?”

Norton frowns, “I used to work in a place like this. The alcohol is just as cheap there as it is here.” His hand slipping around your waist tugging you close to him, “I intend to fuck your husband.”

Your wife looks at you then him then you and back to him, “Seriously?” Given she knew about your attraction to Norton the moment you came home covered in bruises, “Listen, we are discussing this later.” Shaking her head she lowers her voice, “You break my husband, I break you, Campbell.” She is very serious as she glares at him then softens her gaze toward you. “I'll be here.” Kissing you again before returning to her lover.

“I thought you two weren't in love.” The Prospector is very confused.

You laugh a bit, “We are in love. She has a lover and I was fine with only her but the option was always available for me to seek another.”

Norton will not pretend to understand that.

For a bit you both hang out at the bar, drinking a bit, mostly chatting. The bartender informs you both the private room is ready, and you take the key. Norton follows your lead.

“The rooms are over here.”

Small rooms with beds and simple bathrooms are places for those to indulge with partners or paid companionship. They are always clean and can have certain amenities added or changed.

It takes a minute to find the room; once you do, opening and closing the door, Norton sits on the bed next to the suitcase. “Go on.” Gesturing for you to take the thing with you, “In there, and don't come out until you are all dolled up.” Pointing to the closed bathroom door. The smirk on his face broadcasts how pleased he is as your cheeks burn hotter than any fire right now.

You are uh, you have not been with another man after your friend’s death, never felt right. He was everything you wanted to be, inspired to be, and yet you were content not to be. He showed you things and was slow and patient with you, never will find that again you figured.

Norton does not move slow; he moves fast and trusts his gut on things most of the time. And tonight his gut was right.

The wedding dress you wear, after going into the bathroom and preparing yourself, is comfortable for your size and body type. It is the same one you were looking at with your wife while talking to her about renewing your vows. Norton was only there because he needed a party suit.

“This is embarrassing.” The makeup is a touch you added without him saying anything. Your wife adores you with lipstick, the rouge kind, it makes your smile pop. Norton sits there with his legs open and leaning back with his hands holding him up. Admiring, though you can feel him undressing you.

“Mrs. Campbell.” He says, “You look nice.”

“Nice? Do you understand the fight I was having with this zipper!? I better be more than nice.” Annoyed.

“Alright, alright,” Standing up with his hands up in defense, “How about ravishing, hm? Want me to praise my good boy for following my instructions, or,” He grins at the way he can tower over you, “Should I take my wife on our wedding night and make him feel everything I have been holding back, hm?”

There is something you like… Something about being in a role you are never going to have. You are a man, a husband, the breadwinner. There are things in this society you will never have nor be granted even if you held all the money in the world. You must dominate, must be strong, you must be everything society demands of you.

Your father was forgiving of your tastes so long as you were discreet; your wife helped you… Help you find this place where you can be how you want.

The bed is comfortable but you find yourself backed against a wall with Norton under the wedding dress.

“Hard already? Lace really does wonders to a man.”

You try not to moan, try not to seem touch starved for another man's touch, but you moan. Hands gripping and pressing down on the front of your dress. The dress is not a problem rubbing against the right spots as Norton’s callous hand grips your legs. Comparing both your bodies, you must feel like a doll to him. You are trying hard not to cum as his tongue and lips are hot against your cock, the barrier of the lace panties rubbing and your hard cock twitching with arousal.

“Don’t you dare cum.”

“God, please.”

“Not God, me. Beg for me.” His bitemarks littered all over your inner thighs, “Making a mess down here.” Precum weeping out of your cock onto the underwear. His mouth takes the tip while his tongue cleans your mess.

“Shit, sorry, sorry!” It is too late and cum into Norton’s mouth, legs wobbling until they give out.

“Tsk, spoiled brat. I told you not to cum.” When you fall to the floor, now on your back, he slips from under your dress, licking his lips as lay there covering your eyes with both hands, “That good?” He crawls over to see you, moving your hands off your face. He looks worried. “(Name)...”

Crying, “Yes. Sorry, it's been… A long time.” It is unexpectedly emotional. You apologize again only for lips and a salty taste to blank your mind. His body is heavy, his colon the one you mentioned once how it smells nice, and his hand everywhere.

You once knew what it was like to be treasured, now you know what it is like to be possessed.

Norton Campbell is greedy, he touches you, consumes you; you writhe under him as lifts the dress to properly open you up. The oil he uses makes you feel warm and sensitive, “Suggested.”

“By who?” Out of breath.

“A friend.” Not only a friend, Norton hates the man but that novelist bastard has his uses.

“Good… Ah… Friend!” He found that sweet spot quickly, “Norton, Norton!” Legs shaking as you feel the ache of another release.

“This time you better hold back.”

You do, it is difficult but you do it with tears in your eyes and begging for him to let you cum.

“Mrs. Campbell needs to learn patience.”

“Mr. Campbell needs to fuck his wife or he might go find someone else who will.”

Norton sat up, a shadow falling over half of his face; you worried you said something wrong but when you are turned over to lay on your front. The way he hastily ripped his tie off to bind your wrist behind your back, he left enough fabric to use it like a leash.

“As if you would give that hole of yours to anyone but me.” His body close to yours once more, your head turning to glance behind you. You have never seen Norton naked, no reason to, and though he is not fully naked, he is shaped like a statue of Ares. Muscles and blood, his bones of iron; you whine at the sound of his pants being undone. He filled out so well, and you gasp as his cock-- Hot, heavy, and hard-- slid between your asscheeks. “You're a good boy,” Adjusting his cock with his free hand to press against your hole, “If you were easy, I wouldn’t have noticed how tight you are.” The lace moved aside but not taken off. Norton Campbell will be the death of you, pushing back wordlessly begging him. He is all too happy to thrust into your heat, the groan of how you need to relax, the way you called out his name in the voice he going to be obsessed with for a long time.

Lovemaking would be nice but not what is being done, Norton fucks you like you going to disappear. His teeth bite into your shoulder as he holds you close, thrusting with the intention of making your body remember every drag of cock. He will do this over and over, with you begging over and over to go harder or faster. Norton likes it when especially ask him to touch you, the sobs of your pleasure and way struggle to match his thrusts.

“That’s it,” Husky voice laced with the finest of lust, “(Name).” The sound of your name is spoken throughout the night. Every spot in this room is a witness and near the end he has you on the bed, holding you like you are his most treasured desire. Because you are.

It is a long night before he has to let you go. The saddest part of it all is always when the fantasy ends, yet it makes the memory last the longest. You will feel him for a few days and he will long for you for a few days. The public will only see what they need to see, the smoke and mirrors. The bittersweetness of it all, you try to focus on the sweetness though as he is there. Always there in front of you sharing the sun and moon with you.

#idv #reader insert #idv prospector #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv norton #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #norton campbell x you

61 notes · View notes