#'writing inspired by dreams i've had'
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Spell Masters
Corra hands another one of her protection spells to a kid. A paper light as a feather, dull and mostly unremarkable. It was the colour of burnt parchment tinted with red lines, her blood, which she used to write two spells. A mild protection spell, and a location spell.
The kid didn't need to know about the blood.
"If you tear this, I'll come to you," She said.
The kid took it with his grubby little hands. His small eyes sparkled as he inspected the spell.
Cute.
She pulled out another stack of the same spell, and turned to the parents.
"Thank you," The woman said.
"You have to go, they'll be arriving soon,"
They were on a rooftop. Dramatic? Maybe. But another spell master was nearby, and this one didn't play nice. Hunting for powers instead of taking payment. They had placed a teleportation inhibitor somewhere in the building, making it hard for this family to teleport and escape.
As soon as the clouds clear and they can see Venus, Corra will be able to break that spell. Night spells were so annoying, blood was more convenient.
"Here," The woman said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a small glowing orb, green, it was infused with teleportation magic.
They needed their energy,
"I can't take it,"
They need to escape. She could sense footsteps in the distance.
"Take it," The man said, breaking his silence, "We have more," He proved it by showing another three.
Corra sighed and looked up as she pocketed the orb.
The clouds cleared. She could see Venus!
She pricked herself on a pin she kept in a pocket of her jacket.
She smeared blood on the parents hands and whispered an incantation.
The footsteps were now audible. She could hear about ten people running up the stairs.
"Go," She said firmly.
The parents grabbed the kid's hands. whispered something and the space around them screeched as they disappeared out of sight.
She could hear the doorknob rattling as someone tried breaking the lock.
She was too late.
Corra slipped her still bleeding hand in her pocket and grabbed the green orb.
The air around her glowed a cool green.
She felt herself being pulled away from the ground, she violently thought about her safe-house. But something was wrong, all she felt like she was being slammed into a wall. Then, she felt herself being pulled back to the ground.
The teleportation didn't work.
She teleported down to a balcony on the floor below.
Teleporting out of the building didn't work.
"Locked the doors, Phil?" She heard a woman say, and colour drained from Corra's face.
She tried the handle on the door.
"Yes," A man replied.
She was trapped here.
"Right, you all check the area for any Teleporters," the woman was likely the Spell Master hunting the family. "Phil, you and I will look for traces of magic,"
"Yes ma'am," Phil, probably, said.
Maybe he was a Spell Master in training? Maybe she could have handled one Spell Master, but two complicated things and there are probably ten others here, helping with the hunt.
Ten may be non-magic but twelve against one is something she'll always lose to.
Corra slumped her back against the ground and sat on the ground, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.
Nothing to do but wait.
"See, this is where they teleported from, can you feel it?" The Spell Master said.
"Yes," Phil said, guess he wasn't the talking type.
"Here, can you feel three people?"
"Two adults, one child."
Corra could hear people walking around, searching.
"Very good, looks like they all got away," She paused , "But I wonder how they broke the spell,"
"The moon is up, they could drain power if they wanted,"
"Only Spell Masters can do that, silly,"
Corra was in silence for a good minute, she could hear her heart beating loudly against her ribs. They were onto her.
"Check the area for a fourth person," The woman said,
Corra heard them move away from that spot.
She hopes she didn't spill anything.
"Someone failed at teleporting here," Phil said.
"Might have been the first attempt, see, there's a successful attempt here as well,"
"Hm."
Idiot, she thought more to herself than to anyone else.
Idiot.
"You know? Spell Masters can take any other Spell Master's power as well, it's concentrated right here," Corra imagined the Spell master pointing to her chest just near the heart.
She placed her own hand unconsciously on her chest.
"Why tell me this?" Phil asked.
Corra was now getting scared for someone else.
This guy was a trainee, he can't protect himself against her.
"Take a guess," Her voice, dangerously low.
Corra didn't think twice as she warped the space around her.
She found herself pulling Phil away from the claws of the Spell Master.
"Oh? So there was a fourth Teleporter," The Spell Master mocked.
Wrong. Corra was a Spell Master. But she didn't need to know that, Corra didn't want her magic taken away.
She looked at Phil, he was shocked.
Standard reaction to betrayal.
"Guys we found one," The Spell Master said and the ten men, armed with knives, surrounded her, "Catch her!"
With that, Corra found herself being boxed in from all directions, she clenched the orb and teleported to the side, away from the men.
She couldn't escape from the building.
"I see you've figured out the teleportation array. I want to know how you broke it,"
Corra needed to buy time, so she could break it again. But the only thing keeping her alive right now was the fact she hadn't revealed her identity.
She had to keep the guise of a Teleporter.
"Phil, help them," The woman said.
Corra kept teleporting out of the way, to avoid their attacks, but this unnatural method was draining her energy,
"You tried to kill me!"
"Don't be silly, it was only to lure her out,"
Lies.
Someone managed to land a hit before she teleported away.
She was getting tired too quickly. Maybe another five more times?
If she continued like this she would collapse.
She had to change tactics.
She took the orb out of her pocket and teleported inside the building, that worked?
"Caught her!" Someone said from inside.
She had left her jacket behind.
"It's just her jacket you buffoon! She went inside, quick, go inside!"
She ran down the stairs as fast as she could.
"Down the stairs!"
"Quickly!"
"She's getting away!"
People shouted behind her. Corra's steps were frantic and quick, like she was running for her life, then she started panting, breaths became short and quick, and the running slowed down.
Her footsteps were loud, even as she slowed down, it was easy to track. Corra turned to look at them.
They were too close.
Again?
Why again!?
Someone threw a knife at her, now she was being pelted by them, small cuts were made by the ones she barely managed to dodge.
She was impaled by one in her shoulder.
She wanted to scream.
She didn't pull it out. It hurt as she moved.
She tried running again, but she was too tired. She couldn't make a turn and hit the wall instead.
She stumbled as she got back up.
Her shoulder hurt like hell. She didn't dare look at it.
She would have bad bruises in the morning.
"There! That corner!" The Spell Master shouted, "Don't! Don't let her get away!"
She ran down the hallway, the men quickly catching up to her.
There was a dead end. Good.
"Quickly! She's going to "
The air turned green and the screeching like crows could be heard.
In her last seconds there, she heard people slam into the wall.
She panted as the screeching came to a halt.
She probably looked like a mess, sweat rolled down her face, hair had come out of her ponytail, her shoulder was bleeding after being slammed into the wall and being impaled by a knife.
Her breaths were rough and she was haggard. Moving slowly she closed the door and very painfully placed a piece of parchment on it.
She should have enough time to draw an array on the rooftop.
She removed the knife and it started bleeding more, now that knife wasn't there to stop the blood. Corra dipped her fingers into the shoulder wound, ready to draw one on the ground.
When she turned, she saw that guy.
"You're not a Teleporter," Phil said.
She blinked.
She was too tired for this.
She walked forward and grabbed his throat.
His eyes widened and he began to struggle.
Corra teleported to the edge of the roof.
She could say mind was in disarray and she wasn't thinking clearly.
Oh, but she was.
This man, Phil. This man should have been dead.
He started clawing at her hands, "Please," He made a choked sound.
He should've been dead.
Why was she the price for his life?
Why was she the price for every person's life?!
Phil started to cough.
"You're right," He wheezed, "I shouldn't be alive...... right now,... you saved me.... saved my magic,"
Why did she say that out loud?!
Why would he say that!?
Why!
Why?
"I don't know.... why you do it,... but you helped those people.... you helped me..... even though.... I......." He coughed, "Please...... I can help... you,"
Corra blinked.
She threw him back to the rooftop.
He started coughing again, "Thank you,"
She pursed her lips, and then sighed.
"Your welcome,"
She moved to pick up the jacket she had discarded earlier.
"You should tend to that wound," Phil said.
"I need it,"
Phil frowned, confused.
Corra started drawing a circle on the ground, wide enough for five people to stand in it. She dipped her fingers in the wound again to draw criss-cross lines in the circle, a complicated pattern of her own invention.
She took out the green orb again, and held it in her palm.
What trouble she went through to get it, it wasn't worth it.
She sighed.
But it was worth the family's lives.
Everyone deserves to live.
Even the most pathetic, the most wretched.
Even those who were shunned by society.
Even her,
Even the Spell Masters.
She looked at Phil, he went through so much today.
"What will you do now?" She asked.
"Anything that keeps me away from her," Phil looked at Corra, really looked at her, "Can I come with you?" He asked quietly.
"No,"
She can't let anyone get hurt like her.
"I don't work well with others,"
Lies.
Phil looked at her dejected, "Ok, I, uh, won't tell her about this, in case you wondered,"
"Thanks,"
"Hm."
Back to not talking, she guessed.
She walked up to him, he took a step back.
Fair enough.
She handed him some spells from a jacket, "Take this, if you're in trouble, or need any help, tear it. I'll find you."
He looked at the parchment, not saying a word.
Corra walked to the centre of her array and gripped the orb.
"I," Phill started, "You're a Spell Master?"
Corra nodded.
"I want to be like you, I train I'll do my hardest, please, let me,"
"I'm not a role model, kid. I'm not a good person, you know that better than anyone else,"
"I know. But you're better than anyone else I've met. Please, I don't have anywhere else to go," Phil pleaded.
Desperate people did desperate things.
"Fine," Corra relented, "Come here,"
Phil walked to the centre of the circle.
"You can leave whenever you want,"
"I won't."
There was a screech and blinding green light, as Corra's array of blood broke the Spell Master's spell and expanded the green orb's power.
When the light dimmed and the array was visible again, the two Spell Masters vanished to an unknown destination.
All that was left was the array.
#my work#my stuff#writing#I'm back with the--#'writing inspired by dreams i've had'#i actually enjoyed writing this a lot#to whoever reads this: hope you like it too
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-“The Sun loves the Moon so much that he tries to do everything to make it close to you..
Even pick up every dandelion and wish for it...
He also are always praying to God that someday they can be together and for sure, still close to each other..”
-Mel, Designer.
@manpleblog/@alsomanple
#yes. this drawing was also a bit inspired by the song »dandelions«. but it is something a little more “realistic” (If you know what I mean)#I don't know when I'll see mike(my love) in person. I don't know if the relationship or friendship will last until then.#but I'll still keep dreaming. wishing. praying. and doing everything I can so that someday this will happen..#because I love him very much. and it's not just any love.. it's sincere and true. and for sure... the most sincere/true I've ever had! <3#and well.. I don't have much else to say... still. I hope you like the drawing and the little text I made! :DD#(It took me a long time to know what to really write so... yeah.. I hope you guys like it!!! ^^“)#hey mike!!!#mike manple#mike my beloved/p#my platonic silly#i'm mel and this is my blog✌️#my art blog#art#my art#my art <3#art mel#my art style#mel designer#mel loly#my oc character#sun#moon#sun moon#dandelions#field of dandelions#scheduled post#dandelion song
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I'm so normal about the teensies.
I'm so normal about the teensies that I made a pre-Rayman origin story for the teensies. The teensies built the world lol, idc how inaccurate it is to the lore lol.
It's my interpretation, I get to decide the lore!
(THING TO NOTE: All of their designs are based on already existing teensies, whether it be canon or concept doesn't matter. If you can accurately figure out which teensies inspired who, I will give you a gold star🌟)
General plot synopsis: Polokus made the world. The fairies were also made; however, they were not "sentient" beings yet. All their births were from teeny terraforming of the land but that'll be explained in a later post. Anyways, the teensies were created not only to make sick beats with their noses, but to give the world guides and watchful keepers of order. Once every creature was created, Polokus took his leave, leaving all his "kids" to figure everything out. As one could imagine, that caused a lot of fighting over who's in charge. One teensy in particular knew in his heart he was built to lead. However, due to his short stature and insistence for violence, many did not even lend a passing glance.
When Polokus had a bad dream and a certain first nightmare invades the Glade, death in introduced into the world and no one knows how to deal with it. In a test of leadership and strength. This one teensy beat the odds, uniting every clan of teeny around, recruiting their most powerful fighters, and taking down the nightmare, restoring peace to the Glade.
Despite the win, there were still many rabid creatures running around, so in an attempt to establish order permanently, they "built" the Snoring Tree, the most middle part of the world where every teensy leader (and other creatures if needed) could come to discuss diplomacy and general plans of action (a knights of the round table kind of thing). It is where the Hall of Doors is located along with a direct link to the Livid Dead, which was established just a few years earlier. (After the Snoring Tree was made, that's when the fairies were "born" with Betilla being the first.)
However, his establishment of peace fell on it's face almost immediately due to teensy nature being lowkey selfish lol. The first "generation" of teensies was very good at this "guide and order keeper" job, but as each generation passed, more and more of the teensies' diplomatic mindset was pushed to the wayside in favor of a superiority complex. And when Betilla made Rayman as a protector of the Glade, many teensies lost interest in fighting themselves, leaving them very susceptible to attacks. That's why every creature ever is adamant in sticking these guys in cages. Cuz they're lowkey assholes who can't fight lol.
There are gonna be 10 important people to the plot, but I only got five finished right now. Their bios are below the cut:
_________
Aurthr the Grand Minimus (Fighter):
Aurthr is actually the First King in his prime. He was the first teensy made by Polokus, although he is not the "oldest" (like imagine a creator making ocs of different age ranges but they were all made at the same time). By default, he feels an entitlement to the first throne position in his kingdom, but before he is deemed "king", he has to go though a trial. That trial is ... defeating Jano! Yes, these are gonna be the group of teensies that defeat Jano and create the Livid Dead lol. But in order to do that, he needs to learn to be a leader. Along the way, he also learns that to be a grand leader, he needs to value solutions through diplomacy over violence (something that is lost in later generations *cough cough*).
Orion the Adventurous Ranger:
Orion is Aurthr's childhood best friend who comes from outside the castle walls. Being a Murkin (a clan of teensies that has since disappeared), he is very good at going undetected and just navigating the world outside of civilization in general. Despite his soft-spoken nature and cowardness, he really wants to make a difference for the better in teensy society, and it may just come around by teaching Aurthr to listen first before attacking (along with how to be an amazing Kungfoot player).
And yeah, he has ears. Ears are a recessive gene, but the Murkin were the clan that had that trait the most. (They usually get cropped if they're too big to hide in their hats.)
Sapphie the Beautiful Bard:
Sapphie is a teensy who's primary magic use is of the darker arts (hence her ability to go natural hair). Before being Aurthr's first recruit, she spent most of her days traveling about and doing small thieving jobs. She was a well-know musician, and she performed for money a lot. However, what she loves more than money is adventure. She immediately jumps onboard to Aurthr's crew, leading as healer until a different teensy joins the group later on and giving her the chance to fight. She teaches Aurthr about strength in presentation (and how to play his nose like a musical interment).
Umber the Undead Warlock:
Umber is one of the two mages that Aurthr sought out to help fight Jano. They are the Griskin Chief and trying their best to keep their people safe. This dedication to their people's safety led to a deal with a slumbering spirit, giving up their voice in exchange for power and sanctuary near his den. While constantly struggling to keep their clan quiet, they have been trying to manage the sudden influx in stressed out and scared ghosts showing up and causing a ruckus. Stressed and overwhelmed, it takes more than just some talking to convince them to go with Aurthr. But after helping with some big tasks and beating them in a game of Kungfoot, they decide to assist, and put a stop to whatever is killing everyone from above the bog.
Soria the Stunning Sorceress:
Soria is one of the two mages that Aurthr sought out to help fight Jano. Being part of the Sylkin sorcerers, she was the main protecter of Polokus's resting place high in the mountains. She is incredibly strong for a teensy in terms of magic, making her quite the formidable fighter. However, she would much rather sing and dance, and overall just have fun being alive than perform combat. She decides to help defeat Jano after being bested in music fight with Aurthr and having her eyes open to the destruction occurring down below.
She also has ears. They are long, but since her hat is also long there was no need to crop them.
__________
There are five more characters that will be posted later, but these are the important ones at the beginning of the story. I have a lot of this world thought out with a very solid plotline, so if y'all got any questions, I would be more than happy to answer them. Thank you for your reading all this and have a lovely day ^^
#literally the one thing this story DOESN'T have is a NAME#i've just been calling it the DnD teensies since conception lol#no idea if that will be permanent or not we'll see#also funny thing#i had a dream where this idea was stolen from me and when i posted this i got backlash for being unoriginal💀💀💀💀💀💀💀#i think im original at least#it take a certain kind of delusion to write a whole ass story about obscure mentions headcanons and a character that has no real plot lol#rayman#rayman fanart#rayman hd#rayman 1#rayman 2#rayman 3#rayman origins#rayman legends#teensy#teensies#rayman teensies#teensy oc#teensy ocs#dnd teensies#i think im just gonna call them that for now#also also feel free to make your own teensies inspired by this too#all you need to do is take a modern teensy and make them wear more interesting clothes really lol#(this works for ocs too lol)#katiekatdragon27
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i really want to write a song one day
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#my inspiration to write poetry came back today... or rather yesterday now#but i've been searching up the meanings behind lyrics of songs lately a lot more than i usually do (though i do like my own interpretation#i also want to see the actual meaning in mind and kind of do prefer that i think) songs not from video games btw!#bcs if it's from video games. you can bet i already searched up immediately lol <3#but uhm. yeah. i love writing and i know i have a creative mind ever since i was really young and i love music!#i remember in the car when i was really young i liked to imagine song lyrics alongside melodies? but i want to do that someday#in a proper way. yk. idk how people make songs tbh but i love music so very much i do want to make my own one day.#just casually though GBHJSEBGJH i am very ambitious but i doubt and also don't want to get big in the music scene. but also#it's not as if i'll ever really know! and i'm not sure to what extent i want to be involved with making music. considering i want a#career relating to computer science or psychology/psychiatry or law so... yeah. and i want to go overseas. and explore. and travel.#and i want to make my own video game and write my own book. or multiple of them. so. yeah.#i've always been very ambitious but it was paired with my mind that for some reason never thought i'd have a future but now it's#getting. really there. and it's scary but also it's exciting and still scarier but also. yeah. it's nice. so i'll actually work towards my#dreams! tbh for a long time? i wasn't sure what dreams and hopes i had... like. idk. i just couldn't remember. but now i do.#so i'll try my best and try to be kinder to myself. and uh idk if anyone read this oops i'm rambling at almost 1 am. but yeah! <3#don't forget to treat yourself well. you deserve happiness and success. love yourself. don't give up. you'll achieve your dreams. <33
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me in the middle of writing a fic, three drabbles, and drafting a few things on the side: so hear me out, what if i wrote-
#i reread one of caity/popcorn-kittens fics last night and I'm feeling INSPIRED#Because i think the romance between mspar mallek and marvus WOULD be so messy#and. well I'm a simple being. i love the drama. and i want to write the drama#also I've been saving this dream sequence for something and it might be fun to explore some voodoo stuff???#also#i want to practice more ''dating sim'' style things#bc my next planned big project is this clown-slash-noir visual novel-slash dating sim#which i love in concept but. haven't had any energy to make it clever yet#silas.txt
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story idea: a character who travels to another world every time they fall asleep except... they have narcolepsy so their sleep/wake cycles are all fucked up.
#writing ideas#writeblr#untitled narcolepsy story#idk if i'll write this or not but figured i would record it#inspired by my realization i've probably had narcolepsy this entire time#turns out it isnt normal to dream while you're awake or to be aware of your surroundings when asleep lol
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What follows is the telling if a dream I had last night about a flood. ( Feel free to ignore this thingaming).
~~~
I lived in a Little village, nestled between mountains, surrounded by green forests, wild fields and clear streams of water.
Life was peaceful. Children playing in the park, bykers zooming about, friends hanging out and doing nothing but happily existing together.
I remember waking up in my room to the Sun entering the window and striking my eyes.
I Remember waking up from a dream.
A very vivid dream.
A Dream of destruction.
Water was everywhere, dragging homes and people alike in its flow, as if they were nothing but leaves and dust.
I remember looking at the destruction from the safety of distance, Miles away, tears in my eyes making It hard to see the Valley that used to be my birth place, alone and Lost, with no One besides me.
Nothing of my life left.
For the rest of the day, I cannot rid myself of the memory.
I jump at every sound and cannot stop thinking about the ancient tales of prophetic Dreams. Of the oracles, of Delfi, of Cassandra...
My sister notices my distress, so She takes me aside asks what's wrong.
I tell her of the dream. Of huge waves crashing down on the town. Of tempest like winds blowing strong enough to force people to hold onto something least they be swept away. Of lives drifting like leaves on a stream.
*** I try and play It off as having read too much or watched one documentay too many. Joke about how It would fit One of the stories I love. A dream about an impending calamity, only it's actually a warning and the people don't listen and the main character Is the only survivor because ✨ plot armor✨ but they are left alone in the world so what even Is the point of living then- ***
She stops me.
worry Is clear in my sister's eyes. Brows furrowed. Teeths biting lips.
She isn't laughing.
There Is not an ounce of humor in her disposition. Nor even the vaguest shadow of disbelief.
Almost as if She believed my Nightmare induced anxiety to be something more than paranoy.
I tell her that it's stupid. We are hundreds of miles away from the Sea and there are no dams in our valley.
The Nightmare Is too much like what happened at the Vajont dam; I was probably Just thinking about that old documentary about the tragedy before falling asleep. Nothing to worry about!
My words do nothing to calm her distress, but She does seem to drop the subject for the day.
I don't tell about the dream to anyone else.
Not my parents.
Not my neigbours.
Not my teachers.
Not my friends.
Not.
A single.
Soul.
The day moves on.
I manage to chase most of my fears out of my mind, but I start packing an emergency bag with all my savings, some clothes, my favorite knitting needles, a few of the family pictures, great-grandmother's old scarf (It still smells like mom, despite having been put in the closet ever since my mother started using the one I'd made her).
I also restock the emergency bags we keep in case of earthquakes. They'd never been used, but I Just feel the need to add a new pair of shoes, some proteins bars, slip in a few water bottles because why not?, stash in there the shock blanckets dad keeps giving my sister and I like an overgrown cat bringing random gifts to the humans It has adopted.
I don't question it.
I Just do it. And revell in the slight felief my doom's day preparations bring me.
The horror of the Nightmare Is nothing more than a slight unrest in the back of my mind by the time dinner comes about.
It Is then that my sister makes a suggestion to our parents.
Why not have a small trip?
Mom's Always about visiting this medieval castle, or that Museum about ancient civilisations. And dad's Always been a fan of nature and hiking.
We could invite kit and kins and have a fun time with all our friends!
I find myself both relieved and astonished at how easily my parents agree.
They immediately start contacting everyone, and soon about four families we're Friends with have joined the plan.
We're leaving friday afternon. Right After schools lets out so the younger children don't miss anything.
We'll bring our cars for the luggage, but Will be sleeping in the camper vans a few of the families own.
I don't ask questions.
In the days before the departure I try to convince more of my friends to join.
Some do. Others do not.
Come friday I load the earthquakes bags and the one I had packed in a panick the day of the Nightmare alongside the regular luggage for the trip.
My sister sees me.
She doesn't Say anything thought.
She Just looks at me.
Then she silently adds an extra bag of her own and goes back to chattig with the rest of the young part of out troup.
We leave.
I can feel a sense of dread rising inside me, but I cannot find any reason for it, so I Just try to ignore it.
I focus on the strings I'm weaving to pass the time.
I don't know yet what I'm doing.
Maybe another slingshot?
A belt?
A tiny purse?
A headband?
Maybe I'm Just trying out a new tecnique and am going to make and unmake the knots multiple times.
whatever I might be making thought, I have pulled at the stringa too hard.
I have to start again.
some time into the car ride we make a pitstop.
We are far away already, but can still see hour hometown a few mountains over.
The sight Is breathtaking.
There they are, our tiny homes. No bigger than an ant from this far away.
They seat peacefully in between forest and fields, creeks and paths.
Nestled between mountains like a cat surrounded by pillows.
Our homes.
Then something changes.
At first it's barely noticable, but the more we look, the easier It Is to see.
It's a wave.
Dark with dirt and murky from the rush.
It's going straight for the village.
The wave.
Just like in my Nightmare.
It's not as enormous as I had seen.
It couldn't be taller than the highest of the forest's trees. Nothing compared to the Mountain swallowing monstrosity I remembered.
But It was there.
Everyone Is frozen. We cannot look away.
We stare in shock as water sweeps over all that was our Daily life.
The parks where children play.
The tracks for cycling.
The favorite places for friends to hang out.
Every.
Single.
Thing.
Nothing Is spared.
***I can feel the panick rising.
It was Just like the Nightmare. I've Lost Everything. There Is nothing left in this world of what was my life. Just water and mud and death and-***
My sister comes at me from behind and puts a hand on my shoulder.
I turn around and hug her and cling go her gor dear life.
I am crying as I mutter barely understandable "thank you"s in her ear.
I Remember thinking that She had saved us all.
Saved me.
I might have Lost much, but while in the Nightmare I was alone in the world, in reality I still had some friends, some mementos, my family, my parents, my sister.
And despite the tragedy all I could feel was the purest of relief.
Soon after, I come back to the real world, with an odd dream and not knowing if what I feel Is elation or grief for a Place that never was.
I wondered if this dream would Just fade and disaplear like hundreds before It.
I decided I shouldn't allow it.
So here It is, the dream I had tonight. There are a few tweaks here and there to fill in blanks and have It make a bit more sense, but this Is it.
if you've actually reached the end, then I commend your ability to read through my random rant and Wish for you to have someone to trust with your darkest fears with the knowledge of being taken seriously and certainty that the secret Will be kept.
<3
#random#rambling#circus writes#... apparently#This Is actually Just a weird dream#But It hit different and don't want to forget It#If It wispers you words feel free to use It as inspiration#I don't mind#should probably add#tw:flood#tw: panic attack#I'm not really sure because I've never had one#but It might be similar enough and don't want to risk It#skip the text between the ***#don't mind me#Just babbling about a weird dream#:)
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Would you ever consider writing out the Alley Boyfriends?
Tim's favorite brand of coffee since childhood- for one could not follow Batman and Robin around without losing some sleep- had always been the Heart Attack Coffee. It was known for its high levels of sugar and caffeine, with the added bonus of being cheap.
Heart Attack Coffee grew from a small family-run booth in Gotham's street market to five stores in Gotham, three in Bludhaven, and even one in Metropolis.
Their menu comprises about sixty percent of various coffees, but there are teas, fruit waters, and even pastries.
They rolled out signature drinks per season, and Tim was always the first one in line when the new menu was revealed. He preferred the winter ones- mainly because they were hot and always had a special kick to his coffee compared to the spring and summer that tended to lean more towards ice dreams like teas or fruit waters.
Tim adored Heart Attack with all his might. He collected their special cups, a book on all the different flavors he tried, and even cried for three hours straight after learning the Heart Attack team had made drinks inspired by the Bats.
He doesn't think he drank anything but the Red Robbin Rush for the three months the promotion ran. Yes, his heart was beating like a hummingbird in his chest the whole time, and he was a bit jitty, but it was worth it.
Then came the terrible day Bruce found out just how much caffeine was inside Heart Attack's coffee. Not enough to shut them down with health violations but enough to worry him.
He forbids the family from Heart Attack, suggesting another cafe that were safer. The thing is, Tim does not drink any other coffee. He tried of course, but unless he was the one that made it, the other coffee never came close!
That was Tim's coffee. His special coffee. He had one every day (that he was in town and not away on a mission) so much so the employees knew him by name and what time he usually showed up.
Sean, the morning cashier at the closest branch to WE, would have an experimental drink prepared for him. Sean would let him test out possible new flavors!
That's how valued he was as a customer.
Don't get him wrong, Tim tried to follow Bruce's mandatory boycott. But by the third day, his headache was killing him, and his hands were starting to get itchy.
Not only that. His whole day just felt off when he skipped out on his morning coffee or his after-work coffee. Tam had caught him re-organizing his office at least five times because his office just didn't feel right anymore. It wasn't balanced.
On the fourth day, he walked into a Heart Attack, and Sean smiled at him. He had a blond expresso Rush halfway made when Tim reached the counter. "Welcome back, Tim."
He placed a fifty in the tip jar grinning at the employee. He took his first sip of the golden nectar and felt his very soul breathe as it settled in his stomach. "Good to be back"
Tim figured that Bruce wouldn't notice because, frankly his adoptive dad wasn't the most observant when it came to Tim's habits. He got away with it for about a month.
Then came the faithful day Bruce reminded him why he was Bartman.
"I'm sorry, Tim, you've been placed on the Do not Serve Coffee list." Sean winces, showing the binder to the stunned CEO.
"I've been banned!?" He chokes, running his eyes over his own face in picture form. "What did I do!?"
"Not banned. You can still order caffeine-free teas or fruit waters." Sean reassures, but it means nothing. His apologies and his explanations mean nothing.
Sean-who he was half sure had been flirting with Tim for months- suddenly meant nothing.
Bruce has bought out Heart Attack was nearest WE in an effort to get Tim to cut back on his coffee intake. The man knew he did not like drinking any other brand, didn't function right without it, and still chose to pull this stunt.
Well, if he thought Tim wouldn't drive ten minutes to the next nearest Heart Attack, he was sorely mistaken. He got up twenty minutes early- and Tim loves to sleep okay. Just because he can't have too much of it with his busy life didn't mean he didn't adore sleep- and drove himself there to make sure he was on time for WE.
The employee gave him the same spiel, holding that dreaded binder. Bruce had also gotten to this branch. But Tim knew that while the branches could be bought out, the name was trademarked, so Bruce couldn't own them all!
He tried the Heart Attack that was thirty minutes away, showing up late to work due to him not planning the traffic for the morning rush, and still did not succeed in getting coffee.
. Then he tried the one that forty minutes, on the complete opposite side of his work, and that one failed too. By this point, a whole week had gone by since he last had a Heart Attack.
Not even on missions did he go this long. He usually bought those take-home packages when he knew the missions were going to be longer than three days at the most. They wouldn't even sell him that anymore!
The packages were just packs of Heart Attack instant coffee. It wasn't even the real deal!
He was feeling withdrawal; his headaches were getting worse, while his body felt slow with fatigue, and he was snapping at everything and everyone.
Just the other day, he yelled at Tam for sneezing. Sneezing.
Thankfully, she can give out as good as she gets. She reminded Tim why she was the one who tended to call all the shots around the office despite what others believed.
His skin was starting to burn, which didn't make sense since caffeine withdrawal did not include itchiness, but he couldn't stop scratching. Tim also hasn't slept in a while because his daily evening routines were all off now that he couldn't have Coco Connect!
He thinks he made all of his executives uneasy with his fidgeting and nasty scowl at the last meeting because he couldn't sit still when all he could think of was Heart Attack.
The last Heart Attack, the one right at the edge of the city, the one that was only a street away from Crime Alley and happened to be a forty-five-minute commute for both Wayne Manor and WE, was his last hope.
Out of all of the branches, this one was the least impressive. It was cramped with only three tables, the walls were painted a dark brown, and the light setting was all low.
It was nothing like the bright and spacious atmosphere of the other branches. It was even squished between two large buildings, the narrow doorway making it hard to even see. Tim was sure Bruce had not found this one yet.
When he pushed the door open, he jumped slightly at the chime from the bells on the door. His anxiety had been climbing to ridiculous levels, he needed his coffee.
At the counter, a boy who looked his age glanced up from his red bulky phone. He quickly slipped it into his pocket, giving Tim a friendly, if slightly bored smile. "Can I help you?"
Tim raced towards him, nearly tripping over his own feet. There was a slight note of deranged desperation in his voice as he responded. "Please, I just want a cup of coffee."
The boy nods, pressing a few buttons on his little cheap register. "What kind would you like?"
Tim's heart swelled with hope. "I want a large Blond Expresso Rush and a-"
The boy stops. He looks up slowly at the time, squinting his eyes as if trying to see into Tim's mind. Then, with a slow movement, he reached under the counter to withdraw a very familiar binder.
Tim's eyes burn with unshed tears as the stranger flips through the binder before stopping on a particular page. "I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-"
"NO!" Tim yells, causing the employee to jerk back. He knows he must look like a mess, with tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. This was his last chance. He can't make it to the branches in Bludhaven or Metropolis, not daily and certainly not without Bruce noticing. " THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!"
He places his face into his hands and wails. His body is shaking with his sobs, leaning against the counter because he lost all strength to himself up.
The employee stares at him with a strangely understanding expression. "Does this coffee mean that much to you? Is it.... an Obsession for you?"
Tim can only nod because words are hard to push through his cries. The teenager sighs, running a hand through his hair before leaning forward and whispering. "Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes, and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash."
Tim snaps his head up at once.
"How much? Five hundred, six hundred, or hell, even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want." He sobbed, knowing he looked sort of pathetic but beyond the point of caring about his dignity.
" Chill, dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine." The other says with a sort of uneasy smile.
"It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand, and Bruce bought them out to ensure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!"
The guy holds up his hands. "Okay, okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?"
Tim stumbles his way outside, reaching for his wallet. He has no cash, but he says an ATM is not too far down the street. He all but runs there and sprints back with a crispy twenties.
He stopped at a local flower store to ask if they would break it for him and was told he needed to buy something first. Not wanting to meet the coffee angel, he picks out a lovely bouquet of lavender roses.
He gets four dollars as his change and races back to the Alley behind Heart Attack. Just in time, too, because the back door opens and out strolls the cashier with a large travel container.
Tim throws the cash and flowers into his hands to rip off the lid and check the inside. It's a Blond Expersso Rush. Even just a sniff has something in him settling. He takes a sip, and all is right with the world for the first time in a while.
"That good?" The boy asks with a slight grin. Tim hums, smiling back as he takes another sip. "I'm glad. Want your flowers back?"
Huh? Oh yeah, he bought those. He shakes his head. "Keep them. Think of it as a thanks for doing this."
"Cool. Never had flowers as a tip before." He jokes, taking a sniff of the roses with a broader grin. "Name's Danny, by the way."
"Tim. Nice to meet you."
"You too."
Tim tips his head back, letting the coffee burn down his throat. It's hot, but that hardly matters. Danny's mouth drops. "Dude, maybe wait for it to not be so hot?"
"I can't." He whines, downing the cup's contents, and only after it's all gone does he realize he forgot to savor it. He throws it over his shoulder in the direction of the trash can. "I don't know when I'll get a chance like this again."
"Don't worry about that. I'll make you more whenever you want. Here, have my number and text me when you're on your way so I can-"
Tim throws himself onto Danny. The other fumbles with the flowers, trying to hold them and Tim simultaneously, but Tim doesn't care. "You are the best person I have ever met! I think I love you!"
The other laughs, patting his hair. "I'm glad. You've been the first to give me flowers, so you're cool, too."
"When do you get off shift? I'll treat you to dinner."
"It's not a big deal, dude."
"I insist!"
"Well if you insist. I just finished, actually. Where do you have in mind?"
Tim leans back to smile at Danny, unaware of the two shadows that leap away from the still-embraced couple. They arrived sometime after Tim finished his cup, unaware he had drunk it since it was lying on the group near the other discarded cups in the trash.
They only saw Tim in the arms of a boy, holding flowers, which represented "Love at First Sight," and the way they heard Tim offer to buy him dinner.
"See B? Tim wasn't buying coffee. He was just meeting his crush!"
"Hmm. Based on what we saw, it's safe to say boyfriend. No one is comfortable with someone unless they have known them for a while."
"I think your right. I wonder when Tim will bring him over to meet the family?"
"Try not to push too much Nightwing. You know T values his privacy."
They both smile at each other knowingly, and even though Bruce suppresses it right away for his Batman persona they don't forget what they saw.
They pretend not to notice every time Tim disappears or that his GPS puts him back in that alley. They'll wait till he's ready to tell them. Besides, the barista seems good to him; Tim is far more energetic and bright these days.
A month goes by like this, where Tim is back to his normal self, no longer needing coffee to be happy. Bruce pats himself ion the back for his plan to help cut him off working so well.
Even though he seems to be texting constantly on his phone.
Neither Dick nor Bruce noticed the narrow eye stare of worry that Jason aimed at Tim whenever he slipped away to meet Danny. He has theories on what is inside those strange containers, but he hasn't gotten close enough to confirm his suspicions yet.
Jason prays he's wrong.
He waits until he knows Tim is gone (he is not. He likes to hide in the cave's shadows to overhear the latest family gossip) before turning to Bruce and Dick.
"Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention."
Predictably both men freak out.
"What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!" Dick wails, looking over all the pictures of Tim and Danny standing in an alley trading cash, flowers, and containers that Jason took.
"I also thought that was Tim's boyfriend, but if it's a drug dealer, we have to help him," Bruce grunts, eyes hard as he now sees Danny Fenton in a new, less favorable light.
And Tim, who is still hiding in the cave's shadows overhead, can only whisper a heartfelt "shit."
He rips out his phone to text Danny as the rest of the Bats below begin plotting. Thank goodness they don't know what Danny has been giving him exactly. Maybe they can steal Bruce's and Dick's ideas.
Meanwhile, Danny's tiny apartment across the city is starting to appear like a greenhouse with all the flowers Tim has been giving him. His small slip of loving flowers was all Tim needed to hear.
He's taken it as a personal challenge to always have some flowers for Danny as a thank-you for the coffee he made for him.
It was nice. It helped get rid of the boredom his life had developed. He looked forward to Tim's presence. He hadn't had this much fun or clicked as easily with someone since Sam or Tucker.
"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Danny grins as his phone dings and Tim's picture flashes on his screen.
If anyone asks you're my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies
Danny stares at the screen momentarily, before shrugging and texting back a confirmation. "Who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend."
He's never met any of Tim's family, but he doesn't think they will be too hard to fool.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Alley Boyfrinds#Part 1?#Does the chat considered the first part?#misunderstandings#fake relationship#Danny was bored and this guy who looked to be on crack for coffee is funny#Tim was not aware of the flowers meaning. Neither is Danny#Everyone playing chess while Tim is trying to figure out thumb wrestling#Danny is not aware that Tim is a Wayne
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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ safety net; t.f.
synopsis: when toji decided to be a good man and rescue two puppies for his son...
content: canon divergence (I want a happy story for the fushiguro's!), fem!reader, reader is mamaguro, in this world your last name is fushiguro and toji took it bc f*ck the zenin, megumi is ur son (he's just a baby!), domestic bliss, not beta read (sorry for any errors!)
note: seeing how successful my gojo anthology series is going (only two parts but going strong), I wanted to do one for toji bc I've always wanted to write his story with mamaguro (aka you!) and do a bunch of one shots that can be read as stand alones or together! pls lmk if you want more and if u wanna be tagged in the future <3 p.s. the divine dogs are actual dogs that inspired megumi's later manifestation of his shikigami in this au
It was one of those late nights for Toji. A summer evening with a heavy downpour to blur his path before him. The windshields were moving as fast as they could, swiftly clearing his vision with every wipe across the glass. He was quite used to this, running around town in the wee hours of the night, nothing new to him. It just annoyed him how difficult it could be driving in the rain when his windows fogged up and the headlights could only do so much.
He wasn't too far from home, running a quick errand before returning to his abode, wanting nothing more than the warmth of his bed.
A bed... A home...
Toji couldn't help but sigh and lean his head back against the car's headrest. Had this all been a dream? Was it real? Him, Zenin Toji, living a normal life? It had been quite some time now where he left it all behind to be domesticated—as if he were a wild animal. He didn't mind, though, a part of him was begging for a simple kind of life.
Sat at a red light as his pointer finger tapped away against the leather steering wheel, his eyes wandered the environment around him—well, as much as he could see during an evening shower. From building to building, the empty sidewalks and dim storefronts, his eyes suddenly bounced back to a bus stop. Squinting, he leaned in before turning on his blinkers.
This was very unlike him, his curiosity getting the best of him... Maybe it was because he was a changed man. Maybe it was because he had someone to go home to. Someone who made his deflated heart triple in size; someond who made him care about little things that he never did before.
Pulling over and parking his car next to the bus stop, Toji pulled up his hoodie and reached for the small umbrella that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. Rushing out and popping open the coverage, he stood before a small, cardboard box.
It was falling apart, the rain tearing at the flimsy material as the little towel beneath was completely drenched. Hearing the faint whimpers and cries of the tiny creatures that stared up at him, Toji took in a sharp breath and shook his head. He was a good man now. Better than he ever was before. He had a heart. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. These little bodies did not.
Lifting the box, he quickly maneuvered it underneath the umbrella before carefully placing it in the backseat of his car. "I hope she won't mind..." he said before making his way to the front, closing the umbrella and shutting the door after, resuming his route.
The drive home was quicker this time around, zooming to gather the bags and box he had within the car, shutting the doors and locking them behind him before he made his way towards the front door. Taking the steps and fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and slipped inside before kicking off his shoes and making his way towards the living room.
Settling the box down before moving towards the kitchen with the bag, he washed his hands and emptied the contents within it. Pulling out the small device, Toji made his way upstairs, ruffling his dark hair as he pressed a few buttons on the gadget. "Babe, this one should be fine," he spoke as he approached one of the two bedrooms.
"Oh, good," the voice responded as he entered the room. You were sitting on your son's rocking chair, holding him close to your chest as you caressed his little back. He was about six months old and the constant change in weather was getting to him, causing a slight cold to disrupt his immunity. It pained both of you to see your boy anything but happy and healthy... but, he was such a little trooper. Both of you weren't sure where he got his calmness from, seeing as you nor Toji were such a way, but you thanked the heavens for blessing you with a child like him.
"How's Megs doin'?" Toji asked as he handed you the new thermometer, squatting and gently caressing his son's head. His hand practically engulfed it, always entertaining him how tiny his boy was. It brought a small smile to his face. "Doesn't seem so fussy."
"A bit better, I got him to fall asleep. You weren't gone for too long, thankfully," you sweetly smiled, settling the small device down before caressing Toji's face. "Raining hard, huh?"
"Yeah," he nodded, only to widen his eyes.
"What is it?" You furrowed your eyebrows.
Scratching the back of his head, Toji stood up. "Got a surprise along the way... hope you don't mind."
"What do you mean?" You tilted your head.
"Let's go downstairs," he nudged his own, waving you to follow him.
Standing up carefully as to not wake your baby boy, you followed your man down the hall and staircase, towards your living room. You were confused at first, unsure as to what surprise he could've gotten you. But then you heard it. The faint cries and rustling coming from a box. The box in front of you. "Toji..."
"You've changed me, y'know?" He said. "I wouldn't have cared back then, would've left them suffer... but, guess it's because I'm a father now and I have you... I couldn't let them die out there..." rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by the box, you curiously peeked over before gasping. "Thought it would be nice to keep 'em... give Megs something to grow with."
"Toji... there's two," you nearly whispered, eyeing the puppies. One in pure white and one in all black, both equally precious. Tiny, scared, cold... you couldn't deny them either, even if you were currently raising your own baby.
"Yeah..." Toji sighed. "I was thinkin' about giving them a quick bath now and take them to the vet early tomorrow. Don't have much to feed them but we can make it work, right?" He said, keeping his eyes on them, a bit afraid of your reaction.
As upset as you should've been, seeing as it was two more mouths to feed, instead, you felt... elated? You weren't sure why, maybe it was because you were seeing more and more sides of Toji you didn't think would exist. Or maybe you loved the idea of giving your son two furry best friends to grow with. It could've also been that you were just happy that your son was okay and getting through his cold that you couldn't be as bothered.
It also didn't help that you may or may not have mentioned a few times (while taking your strolls during your pregnancy) that your little blessing should have some furry friends around. You just didn't think it would happen... this way.
"So?" Toji asked, looking at you with timid eyes. "Can we keep 'em?"
"Toji," you chuckled. "I'm not going to abandon these poor babies. You brought them here, you're gonna have to do a lot of raising. You're now a father of three," you teased as he nodded.
"I'm well aware."
"I'm surprised you're okay with this, let alone, brought them," you pointed out.
Shrugging, he looked back down. "Like I said, it's cause you changed me and I'm a father now. As scary as that is... I dunno... guess I want that normal life and normal people have dogs, right?" Seeing you nod with a small smile, Toji couldn't help but reflect your facial expression. "I wanna give him everything I've never had," he nudged his head in Megumi's direction.
"Such a good dad," you softly spoke, caressing your sons back before stepping closer and kissing Toji's arm. "Then I guess we have two puppies now. What should we name them?"
Eyeing the two, Toji hummed. "Kuro and Shiro."
#harunovella writes;#fushiguro toji#zenin toji#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x you#reader insert#fem reader#toji x female reader#toji fluff#jjk x you#jjk au#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n
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2:37 am | stepbro!anakin x reader (pt. 1)
word count: 2.5k
warnings: MDNI 18+, dubcon, stepcest, dry humping, slight aftercare, dead dove do not eat.
summary: during a sleepless night, your stepbrother, anakin comes to your aid.
a/n: this is inspired by a video i saw on twitter AND a dream i had, so i just had to write about it.
pt. 2 here
you never expected your father to remarry after your parents' divorce. but much to your surprise, your father did just that. not only did he remarry, but he also brought a new family into your life - a stepbrother named anakin.
you quickly learned that anakin had a troubled past. he's always got some new story about a friend getting arrested, an incident involving drugs or something else. despite his antics, you couldn't help but find him attractive, his messy hair, constant teasing, and his intense gaze all got you feeling hot under the collar. but you knew he was off-limits as he was your stepbrother, and your feelings for him were something you tried hard to suppress.
it was another sleepless night. you were reading a book in bed, trying to get your mind off the fact that sleeping is just not something your body wants to do. you were wide awake.
you set the book down and looked at the clock that stayed on your nightstand.
2:37 am.
you let out a heavy sigh, then you set the book down and leaned back in your bed, trying your best to focus back on the book. but, as always, your mind was elsewhere.
your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as you heard a few light knocks at your bedroom door.
"who else could be awake this late?" you thought to yourself. after placing your book on your bed, you went to open the door. you slowly open it and raise your head to see anakin.
"you're still up." anakin says in a whisper, his voice quiet and deep. the faint glow of your lamp's warm light illuminated his face, displaying a small grin pulling at his lips. anakin crosses his arms and leans against your doorframe.
"couldn't sleep," you respond softly, trying to keep your voice quiet. "what about you?" you try not to feel intimated as anakin's eyes carefully scanned yours. although his body was slumped slightly against the wall, he still appeared to be towering over you.
"couldn't sleep either, can i come in?" he asks. you stepped to the side, out of his way, and watched as he walked slowly into your room. anakin glanced around your room as you silently closed your door. his gaze lands on the book lying on your bed.
"catcher and the rye?" anakin asked curiously. smirk on his face and his eyebrow raised. he flips through a few pages before taking a seat on the side of your bed.
"i've read about five chapters tonight," you sigh, taking a seat next to him. "still not tired."
anakin snickered quietly before sitting down next to you. he gave you a look that was difficult to interpret until he spoke again.
"it's your little boyfriend again, isn't it?" anakin said as he shifted in his seat. it was as if he was trying to find a more comfortable position to be in. his knee accidentally knocked yours, making your body tense up slightly. he knew exactly what he was doing.
"yeah," you huff defeatedly. "there's just been a lack of communication i guess." you look down at your fingers that rest on your lap, avoiding anakin's lingering gaze.
you often complained to anakin about your boyfriend and how you felt he was treating you unfairly. anakin didn't like your boyfriend and he would often tease you, hinting at how he felt about him. anakin secretly wished that he could have your attention instead.
a small chuckle erupts from anakin's throat. "he doesn't fuck you." he says bluntly. you quickly snap your head up, your wide eyes meeting his. your silence speaks volumes, your attempt to find words faltering before they even leave your lips. the room fills with a charged tension as your face turns hot and pink, a flush of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks.
"maybe." you reply quietly as you look back down at your lap. as embarrassing as it was, you knew anakin wasn't wrong. your boyfriend never made you cum. ever.
anakin knew immediately what he was doing to you. in fact, anakin knew exactly what was really going on in your mind and it was a bit too obvious. he could tell you were sexually frustrated by the way you always avoided his intense eye contact and how you blushed nearly everytime he'd speak to you.
"when was the last time you came?" anakin asks. he drops his head down lower, you could feel his breath on your neck as he spoke.
"i-i don't know." you stutter. your heart begins to race as anakin interrogated you. anakin's eyes moved up and down your body. he saw how nervous you were starting to get and he liked it.
"poor girl, must be really frustrating, hm?" his lips come even closer to your ear, so close that they're almost brushing against your skin. "i can fix that..." he whispers.
"anakin, what are you talking about?" you lean your body away from his.
anakin saw that you tried to lean away but he stopped you. with a firmer grip, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. he lowered his lips to your ear again and spoke.
"you know what i'm talking about, and you know exactly what i can help you with." he purred with a sly smile. "i've seen the way you look at me." you feel his hand slowly traveled towards your exposed thighs.
"anakin sto-" anakin was relentless. you tried to push him away and he fought back. anakin's hand tightened on the side of your face, gripping your chin with force. his lips pressed firmly against yours. your mind went blank and for a moment and you felt a certain excitement building up inside you, despite the fact that you felt guilty about what you were doing. you tried to think of your boyfriend and how this would only make things worse, but those thoughts slowly faded away. you wanted this.
anakin's firm hold on your jaw started to relax as his lips devoured yours. as the kiss continued, his arm that was tightly wrapped around your waist was released and his hand traveled towards your thigh once again, his fingers gently rubbing the skin.
"just let me help." anakin spoke in a slightly deeper, more enticing tone than before. you felt his warm breath on your skin as he softly kissed down your neck, his tongue slowly making its way up your neck. his hand moved to your hair, gently rubbing the back of your head as you felt his fingers slowly creep towards your inner thigh. your veins are filled with an increased level of arousal, and you can feel it pooling in your panties.
the sound of your heart pumping and adrenaline coursing through your body overwhelmed your thoughts. the need to become as close to anakin as possible overtook everything else.
anakin brought you both higher up on your bed and you lay on top of him, his hands wrapping around your arms as he pulled you closer. his lips tasted so sweet and as soon as your tongues met, you felt a rush of sensations, like never before. your breath was taken and your heart pounded in your chest. he moaned softly and you felt him grasp at your hips, pulling you closer to him.
anakin's hands slowly slide down your waist. with a firm and assertive touch, he begins to skillfully remove your shorts, his fingers deftly unfastening the garment and sliding it down your legs.
the sensation of cool air against your exposed skin only intensifies the heat that envelopes them. the tingling anticipation courses through your veins as you remain seated on anakin's lap, your kiss unbroken.
anakin's touch is both possessive and tender, his hands trailing up your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
he pulls away from the kiss before speaking again, "lift yourself up." he said in a soft and low voice, a slight smile forming on his face. you did as he asked and he quickly removed his black, plaid pajama pants. anakin's boxer-clad erection protruded against the fabric, stealing your attention.
"eyes up here, angel." he teases with a knowing smile playing on his lips. anakin's gaze held yours captive, his dark eyes filled with an irrepressible hunger. he pulls you back over towards him, his body against yours.
as you settle back down against anakin's bulge, a soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips. the sensation of his throbbing length pressing against your drooling cunt sends a jolt of arousal through your body, a sweet ache of desire stirs your senses.
a smug grin dances upon anakin's lips as he observes your reaction, relishing in the control he holds over you.
"just follow me." he whispers. you had no words to say and did as he instructed. you nodded your head to let him know that you heard and understood him. with a firm but gentle touch, anakin's hands find their way to the small of your back, guiding your movements and synchronizing your rhythm. a low, throaty moan escapes his lips.
"fuck." anakin breathes out.
with each rut of your hips, the pleasure builds, your bodies moving in sync. the friction between you and anakin heightens the sensations pulsing through your bodies. a wet patch grows on your panties, a clear sign of your arousal.
anakin's eyes beam with amusement as he grazes his fingertips along the damp fabric.
"god, look at that," he purrs. his touch is feather-light, tracing the outline of the wet patch, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. "you're killing me." anakin lulls his head back against your headboard, catching his bottom lip in between his teeth. his eyes were glued to the way your hot pussy rocked so deliciously against his throbbing cock.
your head hangs low, and your breaths become shallow and little whimpers escape your parted lips.
"feel good?" anakin asks. you nod your head in response. "use your words baby." his words send a spark of electricity down to your core.
"y-yes, feels s'good ani." you pant. anakin groans quietly when he hears you refer to him by his nickname.
"that's my girl." he coos. with a sudden flick of his wrist, anakin lifts up your small shirt, exposing your breasts to him. anakin's lips latch onto one of your exposed nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. he alternates between gentle sucks and flicks of his tongue, coaxing the sweetest moans from your lips. simultaneously, his free hand palms the other breast, squeezing and massaging it with a firm grip. your back arches instinctively, pushing your chest further into his mouth as you drown in the sensations he evokes.
"ani, i'm close," you whimper as you feel that long forgotten coil begin to form in the pit of your stomach.
anakin removes his big hand from your nipple and returns it to the fat of your thigh. your bodies move in sync, the rhythm building with a fervent need. anakin's grip on your thighs remain unyielding, his strength displaying the control he holds over the both of you.
"let it go angel, cum for me." anakin mewls. you could tell he was close to his own orgasm by the way his stomach repeatedly flexed under your hands.
the knot in your stomach finally snaps, releasing a wave of pleasure that courses through your body. a loud, unrestrained moan escapes your lips, but before the sound can fully escape into the air, anakin's hand swiftly clamps across your mouth, muffling the sound.
"shhh, we don't need anyone hearing us." anakin whispers. as the sound is stifled, anakin's own release crashes over him. his body tenses, muscles contracting as he spills his seed into his boxers.
"s-shit," a string of filthy whimpers escape anakin's lips. you take in deep, ragged breaths, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.
anakin gently brushes a strand of your sweaty hair away from your forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. he can feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you breathe heavily, your body slowly coming down from the intensity of your shared orgasm. anakin's arms instinctively tighten around your waist as you rest your forehead against his shoulder.
"you feel better?" anakin's voice, quiet and breathy, breaks through the silence that envelops the room.
"so much better." you respond with a light chuckle. anakin gently tugs you away from his shoulder. his eyes locking onto the dampness spreading across your underwear. the sight of the wet spot elicits a mischievous smirk from his lips.
"yeah i can tell." he jokes. his fingers trail along the edges of the wet patch, the fabric damp and clinging to your sensitive skin.
"here, let me help you with these." after easing you off of him and onto your feet, anakin sits on the side of the bed. he helps you take off your stained panties, his touch gentle and considerate, his fingers sliding under the fabric to ease it down.
anakin's gaze lingers for a moment, taking in the sight of your glistening folds. with a shaking breath, he quickly turns around, his heart pounding as he retrieves his pajama pants. facing away from you, he slips them back on, his movements slightly hurried as he tries to regain his composure. anakin's pants hang loosely on his hips, the fabric draping casually over his slender frame.
you change into clean underwear and pull on your discarded shorts that resided on the ground. the soft fabric glides against your skin, providing a gentle caress that contrasts with the electric tension that still lingers in the air.
as you turn back around, you see anakin holding your soaked underwear in his hands. you felt embarrassed and awkward at this moment yet anakin's face was filled with a slight smile.
"i'll put these in the laundry room for you." he smiles as he makes his way towards you. a wave of comfort sweeps over you as anakin pulls the cozy comforter over your body after you climb into bed. you feel safe in anakin's presence, his protective nature always made your chest feel fuzzy.
leaning down, anakin's lips press against your forehead. the weight of his lips against your skin sends a jolt of warmth through your body, a sweet sensation that lingers even after his touch is gone.
"thank you, ani." your voice was soft, and almost innocent, considering what had just occurred in your room. anakin turns on his heel, making his way towards the door. the sight of his retreating figure stirs a whirlwind of emotions within you.
anakin steps into the hallway, he glances back, his eyes meeting yours displaying a glint of affection.
"sleep well sis." anakin smiles and closes the door behind him, leaving you snuggled comfortably in your bed.
he locked the door after leaving you to sleep and walked straight into his room, not even taking a look at the laundry room.
as you fell asleep, you wondered how this would affect your relationship and you hoped that anakin wouldn't tell anyone. you thought back on the event, still flushed with guilt, yet something about it felt different. something felt good about it, despite its wrong-ness.
#nai writes ୨୧#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin#anakin skywalker x you#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x you#st4rfckerz
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Something I'm still very undecided about is the name of the indie band of my three young sharks from a retro universe. It's such a simple thing, but it's perplexing me, perhaps because I want something very specific. In this case, a marine element + a cosmic element. 🦈✨
I wish you could all help me with this creative insight! At the moment I have these ideas, do you like them, do any of them sound cool?
🎵 Dreaming Sharks, Dream Divers, Dream Shiver, Astral Dreamers.
These names would be more ideas for songs they would make:
🎶 Pastel Summer, Reef Dreams, Stranded Song, Wreck Echoes, Ocean Wish, Astral Sailors, Stargazing Sharks, Sharks also Dream, Whispering Waves, Emotional Frenzy, The Rainbow After the Storm.
What I do know is that their essence is about chasing dreams with a cosmic touch, magical ocean and optimism. I created these three characters inspired by the triple idea of the tarot: Sun, Moon and Star.
☀️ Sun as ruler of Tiago/Tyson the tiger shark, someone warm, who inspires courage and determination.
🌙 Moon as ruler of Roberto/Rocky the great hammerhead shark, someone mysterious, who inspires feeling and empathy.
⭐ And the Star as ruler of Arielle/Aria the zebra shark, someone dreamy, who inspires imagination and faith.
If you'd like to know a bit more about the three of them, you can read about them here.
Someone once told me that imagining a scene with my characters could help me understand the essence that could lead me to the ideal band name. So I remembered what I had imagined:
"Previously, it was just Roberto and Tiago, but they were looking for a voice for their songs. One starry night on the beach, Roberto witnessed a strange shooting star that didn't reflect his image in the sea. Despite this, he was inspired to make a wish.
The event reminded him of his van, which he affectionately calls "Starfall". After going for a drive with Tiago, a synchronicity event led them to Arielle, whom they found singing alone at a local karaoke bar. Since then, Roberto likes to call her "Lucky Star", the one who inspires them to hope in the face of adversity.
And one day, when Roberto and Tiago were undecided about how to name the band, Arie surprised them with an ideal name idea!"
The problem is that I don't know what idea Arie had! haha
Sorry for writing so much, I've always had a hard time summarizing things…
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Hi Charmed, I've entered the void state and manifested my dream life! I used Celestial Subliminals, their void state, and lucid dreaming subliminal for the past week. This was combined with your intention-setting method and affirmations that I always lucid dream and enter the void state consciously. I also performed reality checks before I did anything. After struggling for four years, I did it in just two weeks!
I also shifted to JJK and made a coquette dr where I'm immortal to serve as my home base. I was inspired by you! It has my friends from all my fav realities and other shifters to talk too.
Of course, I also manifested my dream life here. I had a detailed list of 400 things I wanted, but I don't want to write an essay. However, my life is better than I could have ever imagined. I'm still in such shock and bliss. I finally did it! I no longer need to mindlessly scroll through shifting and manifesting media. I am going to just live the life I’ve created for myself now
I just wanted to thank you! I also want to thank all the people and anons who have answered my questions! I don't have any tips, but remember, we are all gods and can have everything we want. We are the universe and its infinite abilities! Have fun and don't forget your power.
I'm very proud and happy for you! You deserve all the success and more 🫧🫧Thank you for sharing, and I hope all the universes you explore bring you endless joy 🪐.
The intention setting method they’re referring to is in the LD guide
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i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.
qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).
as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.
"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."
you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.
you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.
it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.
when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.
it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.
savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.
and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.
it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.
the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.
you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.
what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?
as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?
savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.
unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.
you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.
it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.
it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.
it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.
until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.
he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.
when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.
when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."
it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.
he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.
he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.
you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.
little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.
"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.
you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.
"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.
so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.
"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."
so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -
it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.
so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.
you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.
it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.
you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.
now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.
this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.
you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.
she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.
"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.
it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.
"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."
"what, no hug for me, eh?"
you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.
"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.
nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.
"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.
"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."
you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.
"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."
lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."
she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.
"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.
"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.
he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.
"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.
he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."
you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.
out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.
even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.
"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.
his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.
if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.
now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.
coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.
and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.
you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.
the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.
you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.
what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!
he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.
"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"
and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.
of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.
"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"
you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.
how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.
"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."
there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.
you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.
eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.
"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"
"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."
"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"
nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.
"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."
you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."
"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"
lexi whistled.
"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.
"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.
he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."
the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.
you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.
"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"
"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.
"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.
you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.
"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.
terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.
quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.
jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."
quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.
something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.
as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.
but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.
you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.
"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."
it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."
you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?
lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"
"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."
a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.
"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"
"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.
it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.
he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"
he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.
"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.
his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.
"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"
quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.
this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.
"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.
"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.
and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.
still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.
you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.
the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.
at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.
the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.
he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.
his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."
you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.
the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.
you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"
his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."
"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."
his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"
you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."
matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.
a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.
"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.
you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.
"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.
"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.
"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."
quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.
a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.
matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.
"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.
he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.
when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"
he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."
you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.
"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.
"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"
he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.
"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."
this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"
you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?
you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.
"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."
this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"
you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.
his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.
"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"
"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.
"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."
your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"
his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?
it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?
he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.
making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.
"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.
"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.
your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.
and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.
you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.
and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.
it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.
this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.
it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.
"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."
you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"
lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.
once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.
sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.
"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.
you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.
he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.
you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"
he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."
you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"
he scoffed. "who do you think?"
you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.
it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.
"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.
the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.
you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?
jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."
"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."
lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.
you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.
"where're you going?" luke asked you.
"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.
the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.
you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.
"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.
"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."
"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.
"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"
"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.
"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.
"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.
you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."
"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.
"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."
he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.
you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.
"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.
"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.
"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.
you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.
fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.
"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.
"a clown," you whispered back.
matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"
and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.
what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?
"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."
"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."
"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.
because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.
"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.
sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.
he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.
because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.
"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.
matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.
you were silent for a moment, blinking.
nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."
"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.
nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"
"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.
the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.
the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.
you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."
her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.
you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.
still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.
it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.
the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.
you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."
as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.
you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.
you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.
"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.
you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.
he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.
you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.
you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.
unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.
maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.
he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.
here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.
"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"
he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.
"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"
"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."
you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.
"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"
his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.
the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.
"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."
"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"
you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"
"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"
"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.
you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.
and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.
his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.
"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."
something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.
"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.
his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.
you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.
he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.
his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-
"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"
the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.
you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.
savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.
"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"
you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.
she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"
quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.
your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.
quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.
"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."
"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.
she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."
you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.
"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."
she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."
you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.
"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.
he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."
you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.
you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.
as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.
you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.
when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.
you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.
you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.
the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.
it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.
your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.
tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.
i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.
you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.
of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.
more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.
he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.
and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.
oh, how you wanted it to be different.
it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.
at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.
if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.
it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.
"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.
he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."
you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."
luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."
"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.
he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.
you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"
luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.
you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."
you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."
you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.
luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.
his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.
you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.
there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.
"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.
you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.
lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.
you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.
erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."
she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.
nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.
jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.
nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.
"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."
"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.
"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."
luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"
nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.
your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.
the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.
it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.
after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.
it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.
he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?
your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.
you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.
you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.
everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.
time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.
but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.
of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.
the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.
the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?
"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.
the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.
that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?
you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.
he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.
the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.
you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.
great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.
you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.
"jesus, doll, there you are."
your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?
your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.
it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.
this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.
he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"
you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.
"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.
he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"
"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"
"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.
"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"
his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.
"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.
your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."
"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.
you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.
"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.
you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?
"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.
he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"
your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.
both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.
you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.
"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."
you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.
his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.
"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.
you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.
you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.
he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.
"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.
what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.
he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.
it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.
the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.
how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.
you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.
that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.
but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.
but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.
at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.
the silence was so beautiful, for a while.
"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.
quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."
your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.
you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.
when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.
the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.
you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.
he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.
he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.
he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.
you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.
you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!
and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.
regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.
the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.
you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.
he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.
"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.
you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.
you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.
the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.
"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.
you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.
"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.
you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.
he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."
the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."
then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.
"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.
"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.
you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.
"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."
"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."
your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.
he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.
you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"
you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?
how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?
somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.
"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."
you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.
because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.
"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."
that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.
it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.
your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.
he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.
"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.
"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."
he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"
you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.
he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.
he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.
"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."
you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."
he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."
you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.
his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.
the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."
someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.
you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.
"don't be a brat," he ordered.
a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.
his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.
"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."
"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."
you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."
he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"
"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.
"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."
you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.
his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.
at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.
he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.
"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.
you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.
"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.
"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"
he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."
you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."
his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.
when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.
"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"
"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."
savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.
you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.
sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.
"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."
"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"
she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."
you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"
lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"
"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.
quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.
you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.
"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.
you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.
luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."
"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.
you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."
nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."
quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"
"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.
you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.
the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.
you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.
lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.
luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.
finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.
it was a beautiful ceremony.
the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.
you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.
"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.
he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."
you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.
when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.
"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.
"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."
you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"
you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.
he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.
it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.
and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.
fin.
#hockey#hockey smut#nhl#smut#jack hughes#jack hughes smut#nhl smut#quinn hughes#trevor zegras smut#jack hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes imagine#luke hughes#nico hischier#matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk smut#matthew tkachuk#mackie samoskevich
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So long King❤️
I've been introduced to mcyt and dsmp by my best friend and thanks to her I could discover Techno. For the past 2 years he had impacted my life a lot, through inspiring me to improve my skills on character design and art overall, to become more outgoing and full of passion for things I do. Because of covid and me finishing high school and going to university I had been struggling a lot with my mental health, but every time I saw a new upload or upcoming stream my day would instantly brighten up. He brought so much joy and love to the community and I'll forever be thankful for that.
This whole day had been a mess since I woke up and saw the news, it still feels unreal and when I think I'm alright, the feeling comes back again. Never thought that a person I didn't know, almost at all, would make such an impact on me.
I'm still going to make art of his character, I think that's something he'd want, to continue his legacy and for his character to still bring people joy.
I don't normally write much stuff here, only post art and reblog stuff, but I had to vent a little. I just wanted to thank Techno for everything and send love to anyone who is struggling about this too or is in a bad place overall. I hope you'll get better and everything will be ok❤️
And the universe said I love you
And the universe said everything you need is within you
And the universe said you have played the game well
And the universe said you are stronger than you know
And the universe said you are the daylight
And the universe said you are the night
And the universe said the darkness you fight is within you
And the universe said the light you seek is within you
And the universe said you are not alone
And the universe said you are not separate from every other thing
And the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code
And the universe said I love you because you are love.
And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.
~End Poem
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i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you
[not my gif. title from song Of All the Gin Joints in All the World]
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)
word count: 4.6k
requested: Could you write something (literally anything really) like mean Joel x feisty Reader but based on the ancient Fall Out Boys song "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World" pretty please? 🥺🥹 I was just listening and I thought the lyrics were perfect for your writing ❤️But as always no pressure and no problem at all if you don't like the idea or anything else. Lots of love! P.S. smut is very welcome btw hihihi
summary: “Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job."
warnings: established previous hookups, use of girl/babygirl, established age gap (unspecified but addressed openly), brief mention of oral m!receiving, brief mention of reader and joel’s canon-typical scars. choking, mean!Joel & brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader lol, dirty talk (its joel), degradation, use of the word slut, slight dumbification, spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum eating, nipple play, slapping (tits, ass). think that's it!
notes: okay finally another mean!Joel for the soul!!! this is super unedited also. tysm for the request, obv inspired by the song Of All The Gin Joints in All the World by FOB. :) this was fun and i hope yall love it! dont b afraid to request anything yall wanna read at all and as always pls comment or reblog :) love u xoxo
[other Joel fics: mr. miller series fever landmines ]
★
Joel Miller isn't sure exactly when all this bullshit started.
one day, he was introduced to you fleetingly in the cafeteria while you and Maria had an intense conversation - he’s not sure if you spoke for more than ten seconds; but months later and Joel happens to know exactly what your sweaty skin tastes like on the sharpness of his tongue and could probably list his favorite pairs of underwear you own.
it's nothing, really.
you patrol together often, and Joel guesses that out of all the insufferable people he's had to deal with, you're definitely not the worst. perhaps your handiness with a trigger - not nearly as inept as his own but definitely a close second - helps; or maybe it's the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock.
and he's not stupid; he knows exactly what Tommy was doing when he signed Joel with you for patrol - the same shit he'd been pulling since they were thirty years younger and Joel was fresh out of the relationship with Sarah's mom. but it's different now, because life is not the same - nothing is the same.
Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job.
you are one talkative motherfucker; usually, that'd drive Joel up a wall, but after repeated and incessant exposure to Ellie for such an extended period, his patience has surprisingly grown.
and unlike others, you never acted nervous or scared by him. irritated, maybe, but it's not like he cares much if you get irritated by his attitude; you're worse than he can be.
at first, he thought you were just fucking him because you just didn't know who he really was yet. but months into whatever this shit is, and you're still - for whatever fucking reason - hanging around him, even after everything. he likes it, though, that you fight fire with fire.
and maybe that's why Tommy stuck you two together, because in some ways it was inevitable - maybe it was a good thing, Joel thinks.
but this morning, as Joel's mind slams against his body, jolting him awake, his aching head makes him double-guess that.
it's weird how different it all is now - before you, Joel was tortured through nights plagued with sweats and memories. blood, pain, loss. he used to dream restlessly of life and all of its unforgiving horrors; but now, to his shock, he finds himself plagued with dreams of you.
he gasps awake - he's not sure he'll ever stop that.
but this time, you're next to him in the bed. his skin feels warm as the light filters through the blinds that stay constantly pulled down this time of year to retain the cool air and Joel lets out a shuttered sigh, his head aching.
it's only the second time you've stayed the night. he's never stayed at yours, god forbid - but a small part of him aches this morning when you slide out of his heavy, sleep-addled muscles. in the absence of your heat there is still bliss for a moment, until he's roused fully by your voice.
"these sheets are dirty." the sound carries into his ears, melodic and fiery. he cracks one eye open, hand raising to rub over his face - a deep, tired sigh.
"g'mornin' to you too." he snarks, sighing as he pulls himself on aching muscles to blink his eyes open; you stand over the bed, on the side that usually remains cold an empty while Joel thrashes in fits of restless sleep. there's not a single scrap of clothing on your body.
he feels himself stir at the sight of you, naked, neck painted in a splattering of beautiful marks that'd been pulled forth in moments of ecstasy the night before.
you send him a half smirk, shrugging as you tug on a shirt - his, fuck, his stomach swirls at the sight of you wrapped in him. something primal crawls in his chest as you smile at him, legs almost glowing in their bareness as they knock against the side of the mattress. your fingers brush the fabric to the left of his head.
"there's stains on the pillows." you shake your head, your face alluring in its tease. he feels himself roll his eyes as he grunts, "you're actin' like it ain't your makeup stainin' it?"
he stares at the marks on the pillowcase; black, from that shit you sometimes put on your eyes which just makes them all the more beautiful, wide, and alluring. the makeup that's surely expired after all this time but still is something you like to do to, as you'd mentioned once, 'reclaim your humanity.' whatever.
Joel would never admit it to you, but he hadn't even really tried to wash out those stains; something about them gives him a warmth in his chest every morning that he wakes up in this cold bed.
but when his eyes fall back to you in your silence, you smirk and it hits him: you're fucking teasing him.
he glares at you as your lips curl in a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. "if you keep complainin' about every damn thing, might as well just fuck you on the floor." he mutters, mostly to himself- but also to see the way your thighs shift, eyes widening slightly as color washes your cheeks. you're squirming at his words, just like that - oh, he's got you pinned.
you'd like that, you dirty little thing.
but you regain your composure quicker than lightning, ready to snap back; yet another tally to add on the list of things he admires about you.
"you're such a gentleman, Miller." you snide, fanning yourself sardonically with one hand as you roll your eyes, searching for your underwear.
he remembers the first time you'd said that to him -
"why so shy?" you'd purred.
the memory of your voice curls around his ears as he huffs, watching you bend over and give him a complete view of your ass as you fetch your panties from the floor.
"c'mon, Joel, you don't need to be such a gentleman. 's nothing you haven't seen before." you'd stripped yourself of your shirt, your pert nipples pebbling in the cold breeze as he'd sat, cleaning his rifle. "the hell's the matter with you?" he'd grumbled; but it didn't stop either of you. you'd been pressed between him and the splitting backseat of the broken down crashed car within seconds, anyways.
his eyes meet yours as you stand again.
he snarks, "well you’re givin' me a headache, an' I've only been up for two minutes." he glares at you, swinging to pull his boxers over his hips, standing up to find his shirt. he pointedly ignores the glare you send him at his grumpiness.
"you're the one acting dumb," you mutter, "acting like I'm the one who gives you headaches." you retort, a teasing glint in your eye; he knows that look. Joel knows you'd never get a headache from him - as much as he pisses you off, he knows you're too fiery, too lucky to get caught up in whatever miserable puddle he's drowning in.
because Joel's bad luck curls around his fists wherever he goes; the talons reaching out, crawling through every hallway and seeping through every door. you, on the other hand, are like a goddamn firecracker. Joel hates the idea, but you're... somehow gifted in that way.
he's convinced his bad luck couldn't touch you if it tried.
no matter the dumb shit you pull - forgetting a flashlight, not flipping off your safety that one moment when the clicker had stumbled out of the brush; all of that, and you escape unscathed, nothing but a giggle and a half-shrug from you before you move on to the next stupid thing.
if you weren't such a goddamn brat, it'd be charming.
his eyes snap to yours as your words fall from your lips; a burning in his chest at your tone. he watches your legs carry you into his bathroom, and he can't help it when his follow yours.
you haven't even flipped on the lights before he shuts the door behind him - you're already wearing that snarky fucking smile on your face, and he's straining already against his boxers.
he stares down at you, crowding you slowly into the wall. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he hisses, mouth close to yours. as you turn your chin up towards his face, he can tell that you try your hardest to control your smirk, playing into the tense energy that's emanating from his chest.
"I said you're acting dumb."
you repeat, tilting your head slightly as you drink in the darkness in his eyes. lord, you'd let that darkness swallow you in a fucking heartbeat.
speaking of; your own heartbeat thunders in your chest, anticipating. you know what's coming, you can nearly taste it on your tongue.
"oh, 's that right?" Joel asks, tilting his head to stare down at you. you swallow as you stare back into those deep irises, the small bit of golden light that shines through the small bathroom window illuminating in an ominously heavenly ray.
his hand settles on the crook of your shoulder and neck, sliding gently upwards as you nod your head defiantly, pushing as far as you can to see when he'll snap. his eyes glisten in temptation; daring you to act up more.
raising your brows, you try to play like it's obvious, "waking up and complaining about your headaches, old man?" you tut gently, shaking your head innocently. "I don't think it's my fault that you fucked me twice, immediately passed out and now your head hurts when you've woken up the next morning. you know better than to push yourself in your old age, Joel. that's stupid." you add coyly, knowing it'll push him over the edge - he loves it when you act like a brat, no matter how much he denies it.
his response is immediate and exactly what you'd hoped for.
he's on you in a split second - hand sliding from your shoulder to grip your throat, pushing you back onto the wall of the bathroom. the towel bar digs into your middle-back slightly and you gasp in arousal at the force of his body on yours. you can feel his cock, hard and straining in his boxers, as it presses into your lower stomach.
"y'wanna play like that, baby?" he growls, "why you fuckin' around with an old man like me, then?" he asks.
your face heats up, arousal flooding your core, your cunt slowly wetting itself at the purr of his voice - the meaner the words, the larger the flame.
"hm?" he gently pushes, raising his brows as his hand squeezes gently on your throat, nudging you against the wall further; your gasp is slightly rasped under the pressure, your whole body screaming with desire. this is what you love - mean, angry, hungry Joel Miller. "'s it because nobody fucks you like I do, is that it?"
his knee slides between yours, wedging himself high up, rubbing suddenly against your aching pussy, the material of your cotton already soaked with a damp spot that rubs against his thick thigh.
"Joel, fuck-" you groan, already willing to just do what you can to get him to touch you. his hand on your throat tightens at your word, thigh rutting up to slide against your needy clit, your hips bucking at the feeling. "-'s because nobody else is so easy." your fiery mouth betrays your body; the snarky comment snaps his eyes to yours, a dark breath leaving his lips.
"that's ironic," he snaps, "comin' from someone who begged me to fuck them for hours."
your face burns at the memory of the first time you and Joel'd hooked up; your desperate voice hoarse from pleading him to fuck you - out in the middle of the woods, a sleeping bag that, by the end, had rips on it from rocks and twigs and the force of his thrusts; the shyness gone from either of you as your touches made up for all the silence between you.
he hums lowly, watching you as you swallow at the memory, his thigh rutting up again and pulling a yelp of pleasure from your lips. "y'don't feel so high 'n mighty when I fuck you stupid, right baby?" he asks, voice dripping with condescendence as he nods gently, encouraging you to answer him. your core throbs at his words, your mouth going dry.
his hand leaves your throat; you swallow a gulp of air, staring with wide eyes as he grasps your jaw roughly. "answer me."
"n-no, I don't." you mutter, voice sounding small; the arousal that pulses through your veins begs your mouth to be smart, do what Joel says so he'll give in to what you want.
he smirks, hands roughly grabbing the thick of your hips and flipping you around to press you against the counter, your hips bending as he shoves himself just behind you. your eyes meet yourself and his own hawkish gaze in the mirror in front of you; your heated breath fogs up the mirror in the faint morning light.
his fingers thread through your hair, tugging you back again as he tilts your head back. his upside down face, smirking down at you, has your thighs clenching - "open." he orders, voice stern.
your tongue sticks out and he wastes no time spitting roughly onto your tongue, moving your head back to stare into the mirror; his eyes meet yours as his spit slides over your tongue and his furrowed brows twitch with a slight smirk. "look at you, doin' what I tell you. now swallow it and say thank you."
your core flutters at his words deliciously as you do as you're told; swallowing, you take a breath and mutter, "thank you," - though it's more breathless than you expected, Joel seems to approve. he hums, "there are those manners," he mutters into your ear, cock pressing against the swell of your ass. "almost seemed like you'd forgotten you had them."
"didn't forget." you mutter, face heating up as your pussy aches, fluttering around nothing and desiring for his fingers, his cock - anything.
one rough palm slides his shirt up your torso, exposing your bare tits to both of you through the mirror. with his face stooped down near your neck, a short inhale of your hair before his hand reaches it's destination - your throat.
"then why're you actin' up?" he rasps, teeth grazing your shoulder. he squeezes his hand again and your eyes roll back in pleasure, arousal soon slicking your thighs as you think you may die from all the teasing. "you don't wanna cum?"
your eyes widen, breath halting as you shake your head, "wh- no- no!" you hiss, "I do want to cum, please."
his other hand raises, slapping your breast harsh and quick; your gasp of shock tapers off into a whine of pleasure, your nipples hard in arousal as his palm comes to soothe over the sting.
"then why're you acting like this?" he asks again, shaking his head. another slap, this time to your other breast. his eyes follow the skin of your chest; the way you gasp, your whines at the slight stinging and the pleasure that follows. fingers pinch your nipples, teasing in circles before another sharp slap echoes through the room. "just a little brat, y'can't help yourself." he decides, biting on your neck lightly.
you can feel him rut against you hard, grinding his hips as he lets out a short groan. you let out a low moan, whining slightly when he smacks your tits again, skin glowing with the impact. his eyes meet yours in the mirror. "quit the whinin'," he grunts, rutting his hard cock against your ass, "you'll be stuffed full of me soon enough." he grunts, "then we'll see who's dumb."
your shaky moan sounds more like a groan, elbows falling to steady yourself as Joel releases your throat, tossing you forward to grab your hips instead. he pulls you back, grinding into you as his head tilts back in how own small groan of pleasure. "this ass." Joel grunts to himself as he palms the curve of your ass in both large hands, one falling to smack harsh onto the left.
you're dripping down the inside of your thighs as he ruts against you twice more; thick fingers soon slide to thumb at the slick wet of your panties. his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with need, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty pussy, just for me." he mutters; you nod, looking up at him through the mirror, "all for you, Joel." you affirm, voice shaking with anticipation.
"you gonna be good when I fill you up, baby?" he lifts his brow, stern look as he palms himself. fuck, he's so sexy behind you like this, his thumb slowly dragging the material of your panties to the side and exposing your weeping cunt; you nod, "yes, I'll do anything-"
you're cut off by a sharp gasp as the stretch of his cock's head cuts off your brain. he eases in gently at first which you're more than grateful for - no matter how many times Joel fucks you, his size is always something you have to adjust to; especially after your rounds last night left you barely able to walk straight.
he lets out a breath, "there y'go, baby, take me." he says it surprisingly gently, easing in inch by inch as you breathe deeply, your soaked pussy easing his cock through your channels. his cock is heavy and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within another few seconds - Joel's hands grip so hard on your ass, splaying you open for him, that you think his fingers will remain there for days.
he's still only for a moment, letting you accommodate to his size before he's leaning forward to press his chest to your back, "gonna fuck you stupid, baby."
"please, Joel," you groan, cunt fluttering, begging him to move. "do it."
it's all that he needs before he's setting a pace that has you whining under him, your breath choking as you brace yourself agains the counter of the sink.
it's bliss. his hips are sharp, the reach of his cock pressing against the spongy spot inside you, dragging against your pulsing walls. "fuck, so deep-" you hiss, eyes closing in pleasure as he presses himself against you, hips surely going to bruise against the thrusts that shove you into the countertop.
one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as his cock reaches up into you deeply. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- christ, you're s-so tight," he grunts, "even after fuckin' you all night."
you moan, the quick bout of his praise causing you to squeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. the both of you moan at the feeling and suddenly one hand presses on your spine until you're low to the counter. his hands grab your shoulders, fingers curling around the base of your throat as he changes his pace to hard and rough, the sound of your ass against his hips nearly hitting your ears over your cries of pleasure.
the noises of your arousal swallowing his cock echo around the room in a familiar, comforting chorus as you both let out shuttering moans; his strong arms pull you back until you're once again pressed against his broad chest. his breath fans over your neck and you whine slightly when his thrusts press you up onto your tip-toes. his lips find your ear, "how's that feel?" your hole flutters from the deepness in his voice - he groans at the feeling.
your response is a whine of ecstasy as you claw at his forearms, head tilting back until you can almost feel his erratic heartbeat. his chest rumbles with a light chuckle, "look, barely took ya any time to get fucked out on my cock," he praises, hand petting your wild hair, "knew you'd be good for me. always take what I give you, right?"
you nod, desperate to reach the climax that's easily built within you from the stretch of him deep in you and his voice in your ear. your clit aches from being ignored and your hand snakes down to rub light circles on it; your hips jolt as you gasp raggedly, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.
"no." he growls, hand grabbing your jaw sternly as he pounds into you, "when I'm fuckin' you, you keep your eyes on me." he snaps, squeezing your cheeks. "'s that clear?"
you nod in the mirror, whines getting louder as his name falls nearly incoherently from your lips- you see his lips ghost over your neck, the smirk that spreads over his pink lips as you finally get out a strangled, "Joelpleaseplease- s'close-"
he knows what you need; you and Joel are each other's best escape. he pistons into you hard, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "easy, huh?" he snarls, hips just as harsh as his words, eyes sharp on yours. "who's easy, baby - me, or the one beggin' like a slut to cum on my cock?"
for someone so quiet and closed off, Joel Miller has never shied away from using his goddamn words when he's fucking you, that's for sure. his words, his accent - they push you towards the edge and it almost distracts you from his question. his eyebrows raise in the silence as you gasp for words, moans choked as his fingers slide down from your jaw to squeeze your throat.
"look at'cha, can't even speak for me," he groans, his hand suddenly snaking down to smack your away from your clit; two larger, calloused fingers replace your shaky ones and you wail at the stimulation, almost too much.
you blink up at him through the mirror, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful growing; you let out a whine of ecstasy. "I'm- I'm easy," you concede, finally able to spit your words out, your voice higher than normal in your pleasure.
Joel nods, kissing your sweaty hairline, "'s goddamn right you are, babygirl," he hisses, "easy for me. this pretty little pussy is mine, isn't it?"
you scream, "yours, Joel-" before he barely finishes the sentence.
with your words, he smiles against your neck - the feeling of it sends goosebumps over your whole torso. "you're a lucky girl," he growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell before licking it gently, "you can cum."
you barely realize you've hit your orgasm until you’re writhing - a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision as your eyes roll back. he fucks you steadily through your orgasm, your thighs closing slightly around his large palm, but his fingers don't stop their motions on your clit.
you shake and stutter for gasps as he pounds into you, chasing his own high that's been spurred - by your own words or the clenching of your orgasm around him, you're unsure.
"love how you feel-" he groans, voice weakening as he nears his own orgasm, hips sloppy as he pushes your face down, against the cool tile of the bathroom sink. "fuck, baby, made to take this cock."
his sentences are choppy, his gasps and grunts of pleasure mixing with the slap of your ass against him as he thrusts, your legs tired as he fills you full and then suddenly pulls out. you gasp at the suddenness of his absence, turning to look at him as if betrayed - but he looks completely gone, eyes dark with need. "gonna cum on your tits, sweetheart."
your stomach flips at the word - one he's never used before - and you relax into his harsh grip, moving down to the ground on your knees as he grunts, "take this shit off now."
his shirt is on the ground in half a second, your breasts bare to him as he fists his cock, eyes on you and lidded with pleasure. your hands fall onto his strong thighs, looking up at him in awe as he fists his cock, slick with your sticky spend, tip flushed and veins stretching over the shaft. "please, cum on me, want it so bad, Joel," you whine - his hand caresses your jaw and slips over your lips, sticking his thumb into your mouth. you suck eagerly and he moans your name deep, head tilting back in ecstasy.
"fuck," he grunts, slipping his thumb out of your mouth before you can even swirl your tongue around it, and then he's hitting his orgasm.
ropes of his cum land on your tits, a small bit gathering on your chin as he slows his hand, letting out a few sharp breaths. he's barely caught his breath before your fingers are gathering a swipe of his thick cum, bringing it to your mouth. his dark eyes follow you through his labored breaths as you slowly suck his spend off of your fingers, "fuckin'- pretty," he mumbles into his hand as he runs a palm over his face, shaking his head.
you smile, cheeks heating up. the sun is rising and the room is fully golden, bouncing off the mirror and illuminating his tan skin, the scars on his body and yours. he's pretty, you realize.
you tell him so, quietly - in the silence of the bathroom. his scowl softens and you swear you see a blush forming as he rolls his eyes down at you from where you perch on the linoleum.
Joel always says you only tell him sweet things to get him to fuck you - but in the afterglow of your actions, you catch sight of your makeup-stained pillowcase back in Joel's bedroom and it makes you grin. you know he doesn't wash it for a reason, the same reason you keep coming back to him.
and you also know that the way he smooths his thumb over your hairline, the way your own hands in turn soothe over his thighs - those actions, they make up for everything else that's unspoken.
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taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @onmytallesttiptoess @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers
message me if i forgot to tag u. i was pretty lazy with this one sorry. requests are open.
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#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller smut#joel tlou smut#joel x reader smut#joel x reader#joel smut#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou spoilers#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader
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Car ride home | Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: you have a big crush on Alexia, everyone makes jokes about this but Ale doesn't seem to understand, and you have to come back (to your) home with her after a three-day camp. What could possibly happen?
Warnings: little "sexual" contact (hand on inner things), allusion to sex, little age gap not defined (something like five or six years).
Words: 2018.
Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!
“Are you coming home with me, little one?”
I blush and try to protest.
“Don't try, you won't take two trains to come back to Barcelona after a three-day camp”
The authoritative tone, an eyebrow raised as if she is daring me to protest.
I nod looking at her.
The others giggle.
Mapi messes up my hair.
She smiles mischievously.
She hugs me.
"See you Monday"
Behind her Ingrid waves her hand to greet me, a sweet smile on her face.
Ale snorts and there is more laughter, I look at the ground embarrassed.
“None of them will ever do something anyway” Marta adds.
I look at her, eyes slightly wider open.
Why do they keep insisting on joking about this?
Ona grabs my shoulder, laughing under her breath.
“Won’t you?”
“And that's it - Ale replies irritated – Bebita, do you have everything?”
I nod, slightly intimidated by the tone.
Is she mad at me?
I grab my bag and wave to the others, then follow her towards her SUV.
The trunk is already open.
She put her suitcase on the right, I put mine on the left and, on top of it, my backpack; I just take from it my phone before sitting next to her.
“I'm not mad at you, little one”
I blush at the nickname, looking at my hands.
“I'm sorry they always make jokes” I whisper guiltily, as if it were my fault.
It was so complicate bonding with her. She was the most reluctant to talk to me or communicate with me, the one that was cold from the beginning and very strict on the field; but she was like that only with me.
I had a crush on her even before we played together, but I never said it to her.
The fear of making mistakes is a constant in my friendship with her.
The fear of saying one word too much, making a rude joke or being intrusive.
The fear of ruining the friendship.
“Don't worry - she turns on the car - Put on some music, would you?” She asks, handing me her cell phone.
I grab it, thinking about how the others had reacted when they saw me unlock it to change the song in the locker room when she asked me to.
How much they gossiped because no one knew her phone password. Not even Mapi knew it.
I put on a quiet 80s song that I know she likes.
Her free hand, due to the automatic control machine, is on her thigh.
After a while she points me to a town that can be seen from the road, she tells me that she had played one of her first women's soccer matches there.
Then, casually, she places her hand on my knee.
I hold my breath trying to act normal even though my heart is racing.
The thumb caresses my skin left bare by the short shorts.
“Did you enjoy the camp?”
“Mh?” I ask, her eyes focused on his hand.
“If it bothers you, I'll take it off,” she whispers, giggling, her gaze fixed on the road.
“I… no, it doesn't bother me - the face getting hot - sorry”.
She chuckles turning left.
The hand goes up a little.
I move my leg towards her seat, spreading them apart.
She smiles slyly.
If possible, I am even more embarrassed by the gesture.
But I've been dreaming about this contact for months. A less innocent, less friendly, physical contact, something more than a hug.
I'm doing it wrong?
The next song starts and is her favorite.
“This is beautiful, I love it”
I smile nodding.
Her thumb pet my skin just under my shorts.
This is the first time we have had this contact.
What does it mean?
“So the camp?
Did you like it?"
I nod vigorously.
I turn towards her with my torso and her hand goes higher, about halfway up my thigh, under my shorts.
Fingers touching the inside of the thigh.
I gasp in surprise.
I try to recover quickly. “The… yes, it was n-nice” I reply, swallowing my saliva.
A nail scrapes across my skin and I feel a knot in my belly.
I gasp.
She starts talking about camp.
Of what I liked.
Of what could have been done better.
Of the coach.
I am too focused on her hand, on the humidity between my legs and concentrating on breathing to listen to her.
How long have you wanted this contact?
It means something doesn't it?
I mean, why else would it mean touching my inner thigh?
We had gotten closer in the last two months, it's true. We live six hundred meters from each other and, since I don't have a car, she accompanied me to the training and home quite every day.
But I didn't think she could look at me like that. She never showed any signs of it and she always said that I was too young, even though in the team there were relationships with multiple years of age difference. The others laughed about it and kept making more or less veiled jokes about the fact that we spent so much time together.
After a while of always seeing me arriving and going home with Ale, watching the way that we interact, the girls with whom I had bonded most in the few months since the beginning of my first year at Barcelona had asked me if I liked her.
I was at Lucy and Ona's house for a movie night, but I realized it was a trap the moment I entered the apartment and saw only the two that were living there, Aitana, Caro and Marta. I mean, it was a weird combination of people for a movie night knowing that Aitana is a person who talks a lot during movies, while Marta and Caro want absolute silence, and most of the team love the movie night, so why did there were few of them during a Thursday night?
I blushed as I looked at the ground when Aitana asked it; what I was supposed to say? Lying when it was so obvious to them was not the best decision, so I didn’t say something. After a few seconds Lucy hugged me giggling and Ona, while she was cooking, told me that "obviously she's feeling the same".
“We'll be home in ten minutes” she whispers.
I nod, snapping out of my thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?"
I observe her.
She smiles looking at the road.
Why is she so beautiful?
“I… nothing important”.
“Everything you think is important, little one”
I bite my lip.
She had started calling me that after dinner at her house, one of those we shared at the end of training when we came home late and didn't feel like eating alone, when I told her that I liked it as a nickname.
She had started using it in front of everyone after a couple of weeks and it was so nice to know that she had a nickname just for me; sometimes, when Ale is using it in front of Mapi, Mapi begins calling me the same, making jokes about us.
“Maybe you think of a boy or girl?”
I raise my eyebrow and she looks at me.
“Maybe you are thinking to someone, you're young and there's nothing wrong”
“Are you thinking of anyone?” I asked quickly without answering her.
I freeze at the idea that she does it and the person is not me.
Her hand rises higher when she stops abruptly the car in front of a traffic light; her middle finger which, if it were fully extended, would touch my soaked panties.
I moan at the idea.
I close my eyes.
“Actually, there is a person”
I widen my eyes.
I watch her.
“At first I tried to pretend that I didn't like her because she's younger than me and I've never had something with younger people-“
“You talk as if you were fifty,” I reply.
“Well, I'm twenty-nine.”
“How many does he have?”
“She - she replies - She, it's a she”
I bite my lip.
Even worse.
Overtaken by a woman.
A cursed and lucky woman.
“When… when did you understand?”
I hesitate when her fingers start to move exploring my inner thigh, my groin.
Why is she doing this to me if she has someone else on her mind?
“You know, for a series of reasons we found ourselves very close for a couple of days and at the end I had to accept that I like her - she smiles - And from there I look for every opportunity to talk to her or be together”
“She is a lucky girl,” I whisper.
She asks me to repeat when the car stops at a red traffic light.
Is possible that all the traffic lights are red?
The universe hates me.
Her eyes in mine.
I get lost watching her.
She is so beautiful… so perfect.
Her eyes, her nose, her cheeks…
“Mh?”
I open and close my mouth a couple of times when I feel her fingers brush the elastic of my underwear.
Should I move away?
I want it so bad, but I don't want her to do something with me just because maybe she can't be with that girl.
“She's lucky, the girl – whisper – Does she know?”
She giggles.
“You know, I don't think she has any idea of the effect she has on me”
I close my eyes.
“She is so innocent and she gets embarrassed so often that her cheeks are always red… they are so adorable”
The gaze returns to the road.
She turns the wheel with one hand, turning left again.
She's so hot while she's driving.
Her fingers move, touching my skin.
But…
“She's a bit shy, but with the rest of the team she's much more relaxed than with me… I think I make her a bit uncomfortable”
Team?
I turn to her, her eyes wide, when I realize she's talking about me.
Cheeks on fire.
Is this happening?
“I can smell your arousal up here little girl – she tells me, looking at me while she parks the car under her house – You are so sensitive”
I gasp for air when she runs her tongue over her lower lip
I hold my breath when the tip of her finger goes under my underwear.
“Can I kiss you little one?”
I widen my eyes at the request.
I nod quickly.
She kisses me.
It's a slow kiss at first.
The lips playing with each other, the tongues coming into contact.
Her lips are soft.
The other hand, the one that is not between my legs, caresses my cheek.
Such a sweet gesture and in contrast to what she did throughout the trip.
I gasp as she moves the hand down my neck.
She smiles on my lips.
She breaks the kiss slightly.
I look at her scared, eyes open.
What if she just wanted to kiss me?
If it's not-
“Tell me you want me to stop and I'll stop — I shake my head at her, her hand still on my neck — Or tell me you want it and we'll go to my apartment.”
I nod.
I bite my lip.
I try to kiss her, but she moves her head away, the hand on my neck squeezing lightly.
I moan.
“The words little girl”
I moan loudly.
I squeeze my thighs together, her hand closed in the grip of my thighs.
“Can we go to your apartment? Please?"
She smiles before kissing me hard.
She turns off the car and takes the keys out of the car.
I get out of the car at the same time as her and she locks it.
I start to walk to the building but she grabs my hand.
Her lips are immediately on mine, her hand caressing my cheek.
I moan when the other grabs my hip covered only by my t-shirt.
She smiles.
“So sensitive”
I bite my lip blushing while she grins openly.
Hi! This is my first fanfic and the first time that I try to write something in English that is not for school, so please be kind ahah; if you find some mistakes or if you have some advice write to me pls:)
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#barca femeni#barca femeni x reader#mapi leon#lucy bronze#ona batlle#marta torrejon#caroline graham hansen#aitana bonmati#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso community#woso
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