Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist
In This Edition: You and Ralph rest and have a little reunion!
Words: 1.7k
"Oi!"
You wake with a jolt, panicked by the shout in your ear, and instinctively cover Ralph's body with your own. It's bright. Someone has removed the blanket that should be covering your heads.
"Easy, dearie, just making sure you're still alive." You look up, into the concerned eyes of a blonde woman. "How about your fella?"
You ease your body off of him and look down.
Why didn't that wake him? She shouted at you. You'd half-jumped on top of him. How deeply can one man sleep?
"Ralph?" you ask, giving his shoulder a nudge. He doesn't rouse. "Come on, Ralph." You touch the side of his face. Why he still so cold?
"Oh, my stars…" the woman whispers.
"Ralph!" you cry out, shaking his shoulder.
He groans and opens his eyes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.
"S'wrong?"
"Nothing, sweetheart," you smile, tears of relief welling in your eyes. "Nothing at at all." You lean forward to kiss his temple, and he nuzzles his cold nose into your neck. You wrap an arm around him to keep him close.
"Have you eaten since you arrived?" the woman asks. She's perched on one of the chairs you've been hiding behind. You notice now that she's wearing a stewardess uniform.
"No," you answer.
"You stay right there," she instructs as she rises from her chair, as if you had the strength to go anywhere.
"Who's that?" Ralph asks.
"A stewardess," you answer. "Just checking on us."
"I'm so tired," he whines.
"I know, darling," you sigh.
"My head."
"I know, darling," you repeat. Yours is throbbing as well. Your throat is raw. You ache all over. You place a gentle kiss to his temple. If that would transfer all his suffering to you, you'd take it willingly.
"What's the time?"
"I… don't know." You lift your head a bit and squint into the bright lights of the room, looking for a window that'll tell you if it's night or day, but you can't see one. You let your head fall back to your coat, which is serving as a makeshift pillow.
"Here we are, my dears," the stewardess announces. She sets a tray on a nearby table. "It'll be much easier to eat your soup if you can sit up for me."
You and Ralph drag yourselves off the floor and lean your backs against the wall. The pain worsens when you sit. Your head is pounding. Every bone in your body aches.
"There we are," she smiles. She hands you each a bowl of soup with a spoon in it. "That'll warm you right up. Might even give you enough strength to get to a real bed."
"Thank you," you mumble. Ralph echoes your sentiments, and you both take your first spoonful of soup. It's heavenly.
"My name is Anna," the stewardess smiles. "Might I ask your names?"
You tell her, and she writes it down on a pad you hadn't noticed. She sees your eyes on it, and smiles.
"Lots of people looking for loved ones. We have hundreds of survivors on board, and everyone's all scattered. If someone asks for you, I have faces now. Are you looking for anyone?"
You give her Molly and Victoria's names, and she writes those down too.
"Would you like me to try and find you a room? Some of our passengers have given up their own cabins, hoping to make you poor dears more comfortable."
You look over at Ralph, struggling to lift his spoon, and shake your aching head.
"Here is fine," you tell her.
"That's perfectly alright," she smiles. "Eat your soup, I'll be back shortly."
When she leaves, you drop your spoon and drink your soup in a way that would make your mother die of embarrassment.
"Let me, love," you say as you reach for Ralph's soup. You set his spoon aside and hold his bowl to his mouth, letting him drink as you had. When the soup is gone, you dab at his cracked lips with your handkerchief.
It's the same one you'd used to draw him to his door. How many days ago had that been? It feels like a lifetime ago.
You tuck it back into your pocket with a sad smile, remembering how happy you both were that day.
"Would you like me to take those away?" You return your empty bowls to Anna with a quiet word of thanks. "If you need anything at all, just ask for Anna. Alright?"
You nod, but as she rises, a thought occurs to you.
"Wait," you call. She turns. "What day is it?"
"Today is Tuesday, April 16th, 1912. The time is," she consults a clock somewhere to her left, "7:16 am."
"Thank you," you whisper, ready to fall back on the floor and sleep for another few hours.
And that's exactly what you do. You and Ralph resume your positions on your makeshift bed, holding each other tight with blankets pulled over your heads, and fall back asleep… but a little warmer this time, thanks to the soup.
When you wake up again, you're a little less groggy. You take in your surroundings. A plaid blanket over your head, light streaming through a hole in the fabric. Your coat as a pillow. A pair of brown eyes staring into yours.
"Good… do you think it's morning or night?" you ask quietly.
"I don't know," Ralph whispers.
"Are you alright?"
Ralph's eyes fill with worry. He doesn't answer. You slide a little closer and take his hand in yours, giving his knuckles a kiss.
"We're alive, and we're together. I don't think we could ask for much more right now."
Ralph nods once in agreement.
"I think I need to get off of this floor, though," you groan, flipping onto your back and attempting to stretch. The blanket falls off of your face, and you squint at the light. At least your headache has lessened.
You and Ralph help each other off the floor. You stand stiffly and gaze out at the room. The stewardess from last night spots you and rushes over.
"Good afternoon!" she chirps.
"Is it afternoon?" you ask.
"It is 1:43 on the the afternoon of April 16th, 1912, and you are just in time for lunch. There are lavatories just down that hallway," she gestures to a door, "if you'd like to freshen up first."
You follow her instructions, briefly parting with Ralph to witness the horror of your reflection in the mirror. You do what you can, and return to the lounge feeling slightly more human. You sit at a table and eat quietly, hoping that your bread and soup gives you enough strength to stay awake for more than an hour.
"There you are!"
Before you can even look up, a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from behind. Molly. It's Aunt Molly.
She pulls up a chair and sits with you and Ralph.
"I've been looking all over for you! Where have you two been?"
"Right here," you say weakly. "Sleeping."
"Keep eating, you need your strength. Are you alright?"
"Considering…" you trail off, having a vague memory of a doctor checking you and Ralph for frostbite sometime during the night. He's doing much better with his spoon now, you note proudly.
"Ralph, I saw your sister yesterday, but I don't know where she got off to."
"Oh," he says between bites.
You remember what she said to him that night at the lifeboats, and your blood begins to boil.
"Look at you, getting some color back in your cheeks already," Molly smiles, reaching out to pinch one in a way she knows you hate. "When you're feeling up to it, I'd like you to come to my room."
"Your room?" you question.
"They've moved some of the first-class passengers into cabins. I'm sharing one with Hettie - one of the gals I met in the Turkish baths. We can double up and make room for you. It's little, compared to the last one, but you're sure to be more comfortable in there than in here."
You look to Ralph. His eyes meet yours nervously.
"I'd rather stay here with Ralph."
You reach for his hand under the table and give it a squeeze, hoping he knows that you're never letting him go. Not now, not ever.
"Ralph's invited too, sweetheart," she says gently.
A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. Yours matches.
"It's settled, then," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Eat up, then we'll get you to a real bed."
A real bed? Your back spasms at the thought.
You finish your soup, gather your coats and blankets, and follow Molly to a small cabin.
"Hettie and I can share this one, if you're alright here?"
It's a tiny bed, meant for a servant or traveling companion. Just like the one you'd occupied on Titanic.
"I know it'll be tight, but it has to be better than sleeping on the floor in a room with a hundred other people."
"It's wonderful, Molly, thank you," you say gratefully. Ralph nods in agreement. You want desperately to fall into bed and stay there the rest of the day… but shouldn't you go find his sister? See if she cares that he's alive?
"I'm gonna go see what I can do to help, but why don't you two get settled in? Rest a little more? I'll let you know when it's dinnertime."
You nod, unable to argue with the suggestion of more sleep. Aunt Molly exits the room, leaving you alone with Ralph.
"How does she have so much energy?" he asks, blinking slowly.
"Not a clue," you yawn. "Bed?"
"Bed," Ralph confirms.
You ditch your shoes and a few layers of clothing and crawl into the tiny bed. You have to lie on your sides in order to fit. Ralph pulls the covers over your heads, just like you'd done in the lounge, and you drift off with a satisfied sigh.
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sore loser
summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"
pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader
warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare
please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.
Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.
It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.
You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.
Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.
"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.
"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.
The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"
"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.
Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.
"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."
Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"
His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.
With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.
Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.
There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.
You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.
"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.
"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."
Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.
The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.
Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"
The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.
"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"
"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.
"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"
You hated how he was always right.
Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.
"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.
Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."
There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.
You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.
You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.
"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."
He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."
"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."
"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."
This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.
You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"
Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.
Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.
His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.
"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"
Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.
Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.
He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.
Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.
He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.
Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.
"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.
With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.
The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.
"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"
His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."
Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"
That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.
"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.
He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.
"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.
A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.
"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”
You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.
He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.
"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"
"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"
He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.
"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"
He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.
You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.
"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.
You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.
Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.
Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.
Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.
Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.
Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.
A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."
Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.
He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.
You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.
A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.
Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.
You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.
A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.
There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.
Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.
You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.
There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.
"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."
The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.
Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.
"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.
It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.
It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.
A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.
Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.
His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.
"Fuck—"
Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.
Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.
Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.
It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.
At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.
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Part one
Previously; You heard Eddie say that you weren't his type, you're devastated and decide to distance yourself, Eddie notices this and realises how much he misses you...and how much he likes you 💞
Part two warnings, Eddie making a fool of himself, the boy has a serious crush. Mutual pining, idiots to lovers.
💞💌
Now that Eddie has noticed you, it's like he can't stop. He looks out for you in the hallways, secretly hoping that you'll talk to him like you used to.
"Dude, would you go and speak to her instead of gawking at her like an idiot" Gareth snaps, Eddie throws him a dark look and looks away from you.
You're chatting to Robin animatedly and you're just mesmerising. You never opened up like that around Eddie, he's worried he's unknowingly made you nervous around him.
Gareth mentioned about the crush you had on him, was that still the case? He's frustrated because he wants to talk to you, but he feels flustered and unsure what to say.
A rarity for him according to the rest of Hellfire. Assholes. They were right though, he could run his mouth about Jason and his band of buttheads, talk for hours about D&D and heavy metal.
But how is he feeling right now around you? Well this was different. He could be shy if he was attracted to someone but he always knew what to say, even if it was some inane babbling.
Around you though he drew a blank, babbled and blushed much to the rest of the gang's amusement. Fuck they would never let their fierce dungeon master forget that you turned him to absolute mush.
If he could have one proper conversation with you before the week is out then he would be a happy man.
Seeing you being so open around Steve doesn't help either, envy claws at his insides and he feels irrationality jealous of Steve Harrington.
Gareth takes pity on Eddie's failing to talk to you and mentions about the drawings you had done for Hellfire.
"She's really good dude, maybe you could start the conversation with that" this perks Eddie up and he decides to just go for it and speak to you.
He walks over to you as you're chatting to Robin as Eddie approaches you peer up at him and smile. "Oh hi Eddie"
"Uh, hi sweetheart, Gareth says you had some drawings for Hellfire. Would you like to show me them. If you want?" He asks you. Crosses his fingers behind his back.
To his delight you agree. "Sure, I was meant to show you a little while back but uh I was busy, I'd love to show you" he gestures to you to follow him and the two of you head to the drama room where Hellfire is hosted.
Carefully you lay out your drawings on the table, you feel like your whole body is buzzing with nerves as he leans over you to take a look. His fingers caress over the drawings and he lets out a soft gasp of surprise.
Your drawings are amazing and he tells you and you beam at him, pleased that he likes them. Eddie pauses as he shifts one of the pictures away and his eyes widen, "Is that me?" he takes in the photo and you move it away mortified.
The drawing was of Eddie as the Dungeon Master but exaggerated with certain D&D elements and bats that represented one of his tattoos.
"That's an incredible drawing sweetheart" you duck your head to avoid his gaze, that familiar shyness you feel around him, coming back tenfold.
"Thanks" you murmur and you swear your heart might beat out of its chest when he moves closer to you, his breath almost tickles your neck.
"Can I keep this?" He asks and you nod feeling delighted that he likes it so much. You're still confused why he's talking to you so intently and with interest now but you put it out of your mind.
Maybe the two of you could at least be friends? It might help you finally get over him. It wasn't a foolproof plan and you could end up falling even more for him but it was worth a shot.
...
To your surprise Eddie comes over to chat to you all week at school and in Family Video, sometimes you feel like he's making excuses just to talk to you. "Someone's got a crush" Robin teases and Steve doesn't look happy as you help Robin unpack new stock.
"Took him long enough to realise it" you shake your head and ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of Eddie liking you. It couldn't be true though could it?
"He doesn't, he's just interested in my drawings" you explain and you feel the brief hope you had slipping away.
"Yeah...that's totally why he's staring at you like a lovesick puppy, your drawings" Robin subtly nods over to Eddie who nearly knocks several videos over when you catch his eye. There's a sweet goofy grin on his face and a pink tingle to his cheeks.
You had never seen Eddie blush before, he was usually so confident, the blush was endearing. Wait why was he blushing? Surely it couldn't be because of you could it?
No don't be silly. He likes Megan, you're not his type. "He doesn't have a crush on me" you shake your head refusing to believe it.
Robin brightens then gently nudges you to the front of the counter. "Well, he's coming this way, so..." You smile as Eddie walks over to you and is quiet for a few seconds before he blurts out the question he's been dying to speak to you in private.
Curious at what he's going to say, you decide to take your break a little early since the store is quiet for now, you follow him outside and can't help notice how jittery he is. Why was he nervous? Did you make him nervous? The thought was a tiny bit thrilling.
Eddie seems to be struggling with what to say, you wait patiently as he takes a deep breath then it all comes out in a mumbled rush.
"Sorry, what was that Eddie?" you move closer to him, confused at what he's saying, it was all jumbled and quiet. He flushes a little bit then steels himself instantly looking determined.
"Gareth said you had a crush on me and I'm wondering if that's still true?" He blurts out and you freeze. Ah shit.
"Does it matter? You don't like me that way, I'm not your type" you wince at the sadness that colours your tone.
"You're wrong" his voice turns impossibly soft and you stare at him puzzled. You heard him say that you weren't his type.
"I heard what you said to Gareth and you were hoping Megan noticed you" you point out to him, he blushes and nods, not denying it.
"Yeah I was a dumbass, when you weren't around I missed you like crazy and realised how much I really do like you and I'm not interested in Megan, not anymore" Unbelievable, you shake your head torn between amusement and being completely stunned.
"You sure do take your time Eddie Munson" you eventually reply to him and he gives you a heartmelting smile and on an impulse you kiss his cheek, then at that moment Steve yells that your break is almost done. Great, just great.
Picking up your bag, you wave goodbye to Eddie and rush to get back inside, Eddie touches his cheek where you kissed it and a big smile breaks across his face. He's dazed and happy for a few seconds, then he comes to. "Hey, princess. Will you let me take you on a date sometime?" He yells over to you.
You peer up at Eddie through your lashes, "Sure...definitely sometime" you smile at him then turn away, try to control the fact you want to squeal out loud. You're trying to act cool and nonchalant.
Eddie who has no compunction about expressing how he feels practically struts his way back to his van. You stifle a giggle and know the sometime date will be soon, very soon.
❤️🫶
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GRUMBO WEEK DAY 3 - " Nightmare " @grumboweek
"read more" at your own discretion. messy+wordy explanation of the concept coming:)
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pardon me for being late but i really couldn't stand leaving this looking unfinished so. had to spend a bittt more time on it
(might even post for grumbo week even after the event's over if thats okay!!)
we all got over the progression from their friendship to their betrayal of eachother in Last Life too soon. i need people to mourn with me
"Nightmare" made my mind immediately jump to the series that waffle duo really got their share of angst from, Last Life. How an unbreakable bond of friendship strengthened by literally passing eachother something as valuable as a life so quickly crumbled into them both betraying eachother in the end, a Nightmare scenario that the two of them would've never even considered for sure.
even grian, who upon turning red was still clinging onto the hope that their bond was so strong that mumbo would join him as a redname.
(concept) even red mumbo, who in his last ditch desperation tried reigniting post-red yellow life grian's humanity by giving him the spyglass, the southlander's physical embodiment of their friendship, only for grian to crush it mercilessly
,,,,,,,,,
anyway for this piece i tried real hard to cram in as much symbolism and imagery and intent behind my lines and colors as possible, so heres some of it! (theres more but thats on you to figure out!)
Composition + just some of the details :
the main concept that i really wanted to drive home is the use of the SPYGLASS as symbolism for the progression of their bond throughout Last life, up until the end.
yellow-side grian holds up a spyglass, looking towards the right
day4 past and future concepts ahead
the spyglass extends through the past to the present, like a solid line of sight into the future before its unfortunately crushed by red-side grian (him shutting down any friendship or reconciliation from mumbo)
mumbo, back against the future, faced twoards the past, reaching his spyglass out looking for who his friend was, only to see a cracked figure of him staring back
grian, faced towards the future in both drawings, but also looking back at mumbo, with different emotions but both with the same desire to move forward,
one with adoration and another with the desire to move on from mumbo's dead body and focus on self-preservation. he knew he had to move on, and he was right.
SOUTHLANDERS BADGE: mostly for visual interest! but also unlike the spyglass, is an unremovable physical reminder for post-red grian (literally lodged deep into his shoulder)
CLIPPED WINGS: i felt like i had to mention that they're supposed to look clipped in the second drawing:)
"HE NEEDS TO LEARN" was a real quote that was directed at both jimmy and mumbo, but we gotta adapt pfft
,,,
this post is long. LOng long. i should stop.
special SPECIAL thanks to my dearest @justrelaxhere for their hours worth of dissection of my drawing! god i could always count on them to squeeze every drop of symbolism out of my work. without them i wouldn'tve been able to fully articulate my ideas! okay thanks for reading people:D
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𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖈 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗 · dazai, chuuya & fyodor .ೃ࿐
· 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𐙚 none, gn reader, sfw content, fluff, petnames, headcanons + little scenarios, not proofread
· 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 𐙚 sorry these are really short, im just trying to clear out as many requests as i can for now :') i was gonna add sigma n fukuzawa too but i wanted to get it out asap so i can work on my other wips. also ! i might focus a little more on fluff for the time being :) happy reading and hope you guys enjoyed !
𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘... just some cute scenarios with some of the bsd men ᡣ𐭩
dazai.. was an interesting man. he never got flustered no matter how much you flirted with him, not even blushing when you did provocative actions like sitting on his lap, or whispering dirty words into his ear.
instead, he somehow counters your lines with his own — leaving you the one flustered.
but when you give him genuine compliments, or do something nice for him genuinely from the goodness of your heart, the same man who's seemingly unaffected by your advances, somehow turns into putty — melting in the clutch of your warm grasp.
in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bedroom, you hummed sweet words against dazai's dark locks, your lips finding solace on the crown of his head. "you're so pretty," you whispered, a genuine compliment that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of his rough day.
"darling, not as pretty as you," he chuckled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your chest. the day had taken its toll on him, a tough mission leaving him with more than a fair share of injuries. but those details could wait for another time.
for dazai, these moments were treasures. lying in your arms or having you nestled in his, the simple pleasure of each other's company became a haven. the absence of distractions allowed him to savor the rare peace he found with you, a feeling that almost made him giddy.
your words, genuine and warm, were like a balm for his weary soul. in these moments, he set aside his usual snarky quips and jokes, content to bask in the embrace and scent that spoke of comfort and home. the sincerity in your praise quickened his heartbeat, and for once, dazai didn't need to hide behind humor.
though his face was hidden from your view, dazai couldn't conceal the flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. it was a secret shared only with the solitude of your embrace — a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and affection that blossomed in these stolen moments of peace.
considering chuuya's job, you two don't get to spend too much time together. but you had already known and accepted that when you started dating him.
though, when you two do get to spend some quality time together — it's all worth it. he makes sure to spoil you with his affection and attention when he has the chance — making up for all the time he's neglected you.
and after a whole day of getting spoiled by him — visiting fancy and expensive places, tasting amazing food, drinking the finest wine, you finally get to relax at home with your favorite person.
"quit scrunching that handsome face, babe," you sighed, smoothing the furrowed lines of his brows with your thumbs, delicately working the cleanser into his skin. chuuya simply hummed, surrendering to the soothing sensation and leaning into your touch.
"and what's the deal with this?" he asked, his arms enveloping your waist — right where they belonged. "it's just cleanser, does what it says — cleans your skin." chuuya hummed again, drawing small circles on your hips, "just make sure it stays out of my eyes, okay?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap for better comfort, "obviously."
after rinsing off the cleanser and following through with the skincare routine you'd picked, chuuya stared at his reflection in the mirror — bunny headband adorning his head, bangs swept back and away from his face, which now felt surprisingly soft. "holy shit, my face feels so...smooth?" he blinked, gently squishing his own cheeks. you approached from behind, planting a tender kiss on his neck — "i did tell you my skincare routine works wonders."
"heh, yeah," he chuckled, turning to face you, playfully squishing your cheeks together before planting a soft kiss on your lips, "now it's your turn, love. your skin deserves some of that magic too."
fyodor was a busy man, you always catch him in that dimly lit room — typing away while staring at his monitors. with all the plotting, scheming and hacking — he never really has any time left to take real care of himself.
and that's exactly what you're here for — dragging him out of the dingy room, not paying any attention to his complaints or threats, you know he doesn't mean them.
taking off his ushanka, you wonder how much time had it actually been since he's properly washed his hair — but you didn't ask him that, knowing he'd be even more irritated.
fyodor's complaints ceased once you proposed a shared bath, both of you disrobing before slipping into the warm water. the temperature, meticulously adjusted to his liking, showcased your thoughtful consideration. though the usual positions were reversed, with him against your chest, it was necessary for you to tend to his hair.
"right there, love," fedya sighed in content, tilting his head back and savoring your touch. your fingers massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp. "feel good, huh?" you smiled, placing sweet kisses on the pale skin of his exposed neck before gently rinsing away the shampoo from his raven locks.
these tranquil moments held a special place in his heart. simple yet profound, they kindled a warmth within him. your loving gaze had the power to thaw even his typically cold heart. in those tender glances, he found a promise to himself — to craft the perfect world for both of you.
©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia
@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch
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Hello! I absolutely love your work it's always such a joy to read them! So, when I saw your asks were open, I had to ask fast! Can I request for a fluffy work where Jade, Rook, and Vil are painting their S/O? You can add on more if you need to.
I hope you have a nice day! ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: They paint/sketch you.
♡︎I almost exploded on Vil’s part.
♡︎Includes: Jade, Rook and Vil
♡︎Warning: Jade smirking
⋆⋅☆Jade
I can't picture him painting you, but I see him having some sketches of you in a notebook, probably filled with information about mushrooms.
After classes ended, you had a habit of lingering at Monstro Lounge. You'd order a drink, often covered by Jade's generosity. There, you would study, awaiting Jade's arrival whenever he was free. On one particular day, he observed you from a distance, engrossed in reading potionology books for an upcoming test. Although you were engaged in a mundane activity, he felt an unusual urge to capture you in his notebook, akin to documenting a rare mushroom.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
"Jade, is that me?" you questioned as you spotted a peculiar doodle of yourself in his mushroom-filled notebook. The two of you had gone on a hike, and to assist him in identifying mushrooms, he handed you his notebook. To your surprise, amidst the detailed fungi descriptions, you discovered a drawing of your face stuffed inside a book. Much to your dismay, Jade responded with a smirk rather than a straightforward answer.
⋆⋅☆Rook
Now Rook would be the type to paint you and have those paintings of you on the walls of his room, no shame at all. If someone entered his room, he would spend hours talking about the artworks, explaining how divine you looked to the point that he had to capture it for eternity.
He would find you in the botanical garden, staring at some flowers, and out of nowhere, you'd see him with a canvas and an easel running towards you. You have no idea how he managed to get those so fast, as you were just talking seconds ago.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
“Is this really necessary?” You were already embarrassed by the fact that he wanted to paint you, but the constant remarks about your beauty made you almost pass out.
“Oh, mon Trickster, I only wish to capture forever what I deem worthy of being seen by millions, as your beauty is undoubtedly impossible to-” And he kept on talking about how much he loved you, how amazing you were, how breathtaking you looked, and how his actions were undoubtedly more than worth it. With each word, you felt your legs growing weaker.
⋆⋅☆Vil
This might start with Rook wanting to paint the two of you together as a cute couple since he was your ultimate shipper. However, Vil never seemed pleased with the paintings, stating that something was missing. You thought he was talking about him not looking as good as he wanted, but after some days, he asks you to come over, and to your surprise, he tells you that he wants to paint you.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
“Potato, stay still!” By the Seven, you only wanted to scratch your nose. It had been almost an hour, and you were starting to feel really hungry. You'd have to curse Grim for wasting money on his cans of tuna, leaving you with only sandwiches until the smell made you feel sick. You stared around his room, waiting for the work to be done. After all, it surely couldn’t take that much more. “Come see it.” You saw him lower the brush as he looked at you with a smile, and as you approached, you had to grab your jaw or it would drop to the floor. The way he had drawn you had nothing on Rook’s style. You looked so beautiful, it almost didn’t feel like that was you. So, that was how Vil saw you? And he was just mad that Rook couldn’t see the same thing he did.
“Oh, Vil!” You sounded so lovesick as you gave him a hug and a kiss.
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Hey Mod, I don't know what's going on that hurt you, I feel like I missed something that's happened, but I can tell from what I did see that it didn't just hurt you, but scared you and made you feel a Lot of doubt. I've also seen a lot of messages pouring in with support, and I want to share mine.
I have hypermobile type EDS, fibromyalgia, and a whole bucket's worth of faulty wiring in my brain. And I've always had stories to tell but I never felt I was good enough to share them. If it's because I can't focus enough to get through nanowrimo, or because I can't manage the focus and time towards drawing as a hobby, or the fact that an excessive amount of either for me leads to my hands wanting to shut down. But you? You *inspire* me. Your stories, all the ones I've seen, read, experienced in some way or another, they're so good. And you're open and honest with your fans about your own health, and of course, we support you and always would rather you rest and feel as best you can, instead of pushing out something and working yourself too hard. But all of this is to say that. I think I would have given up on my own stories if I hadn't found you and yours.
I hope whatever is going on sorts itself out, I hope you're able to keep telling your stories. At your own pace, in your own way. I think you deserve to be happy. If there's anything we (your fans, especially those of us too awkward to come off anon, whoops,) can do, to help in some way? Even if it's silly videos or cute cat pictures or whatever it is that could just help you smile. We're here. We love you.
woof. I woke up to so many messages I can't even read them all in one go I'm getting too emotional- I do feel I owe an explanation so I'll explain what happened under the cut but all you guys need to know is I'm okay, I got through it, I love you, and you're so important to me and I'm so grateful for all the messages that have asked me to stay.
tw for suicidal thoughts and all that
yeah so I have the bad morning of all mornings: was introduced to the fact there's this one character (Mr Puzzles) on a very popular youtube that. resembles RGB. incredibly strongly. like. I don't want to link to it just look if you want to. Anyway at the time I thought it had just dropped (seems to have been around for 6 months actually), and having commented on it I immediately got an inbox full of hate mail.
My website, meanwhile, had locked both me and my web designer out of it, and- already in a bad state of mind- I went into full on panic/paranoid spiral of 'they have hacked it, and they are going to delete any proof that I was here before them.' This of course wasn't true, and we have since recalimed control of the site (don't know what happened there but hey. it's fine???? haha. ha.)
On top of this my father has terminal cancer of the pancreas, which is horrible for everyone already but it means that- at some point this year- I am going to be the only person with an active income in my house. I am disabled, do not make a lot of money, and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Combine that with months of Despair at the world right now, with the multiple wars, genocide, corruption and AI and the loss of control any of us have over our IP or lives and I just decided it was time to end it all.
I somehow remembered this was a bad idea to act on immediately (hard during a period of entirely irrational thought) and instead went for a very long walk, crossed the bridge I could have jumped off and during that I came out of the worst of it. I then came back home to so much love online I felt deeply ashamed for ever contemplating it, and I cried a lot. My nose is still puffy and now my feet hurt! lmao
Anyway. Yeah. There's your context. I am not going to stop hoping, making, or living. I am prone to moments of weakness and this was one of the worst of them and I am still here, thanks in a large part to all of you. I might need you in the future to defend me against this, or people who take our ideas, but I hope you know that I will do the same for you. We need each other, and to be there for you I need to be here at all.
also fuck Mr Puzzles
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rafe being president of a frat and saying readers brother can only get in if she sucks him off
thinking about this concept with this rafe? yes.
‧₊˚👛✩ ₊˚🎀⊹♡
you never knew floorboards could be this sticky, and that people could smell so strongly of beer. you didn’t particularly love frat parties, but you’d been looking for an excuse to get drunk after the week you’d had, and wear that new little skirt you knew you looked good in. as your group gets let in to the building, you’re stopped by the shoulder — and you huff as you watch the rest of the girls wander off without noticing your absence. you put that down to doing too many shots at the pre-game.
“and what do we have here?” you’re greeted by rafe cameron, his hand still clasping your shoulder, can of beer in the other. “what, you gonna… walk right in n’ignore me? where’s my hug huh?”
“you don’t get one. you told my brother he can’t join your stupid frat.” you feel pathetic at the way you border on a pout, crossing your arms over your chest what you hoped to be intimidatingly — which only make you come across as a sulky brat.
rafe tongues his cheek with a smug chuckle, looking away and nodding as a greeting at a familiar face passing by before turning his attention back to you. “who cares, a’ight? ‘kids a loser. i’m actually doing the guy a favour, he wouldn’t fit in.” he resists an eyeroll, bringing the can to his lips and taking a sip.
“you’re purposely excluding him! and — and you didn’t even give him a chance to prove himself.” you furrow your brows making his jaw tick, looking around incase you made a scene. he leans in, voice a little quieter.
“cry me a river. alright? that’s just how this shit goes. now is there anything else you wanna say?” he raises his eyebrows and you back down, deciding it’s not worth it. you were here to get drunk after all, and getting kicked out before you’ve even really entered would spoil that plan completely. you blink up at him silently and he nods. “no? alright then.” he steps back, gesturing with his head for you to go inside. “run along, sweetheart.”
but that’s not the last you see of rafe that night — if you’re not ignoring his usual stares, or glares if you’re talking to another guy — you’re dodging his attempts to try and get you to come over, where you know he’ll end up being all touchy and condescending (and you’ll have to totally deny that it’s turning you on.) regardless of your attempts to evade, he catches you anyway at the drink table, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“you know, i— i have been thinking about what you said.” he gets straight to the point, and your interest is piqued.
“about my brother?” you spin to face him eagerly, so he all but has you backed up against the drinks table, wet smirk on his face from the lip of his beer bottle.
“mm.” he hums, a faux pensive frown finding his face as he nods as if deep in thought, only further drawing you in. “i uh, i think there’s something we might be able to do. you know, a little agreement.” a salacious smile spreading on his face.
your brows knit, lashes scraping them as you look directly up at him — and it only made him wanna chuckle, because you just looked so doe eyed and pleading. he did believe you’d do just about anything.
“like what, rafe?” you sound unsure, but you could probably guess the direction things were headed. he leans in, his mouth hovering over your ear so that he could speak up and be heard clearly.
“i’m saying i…i would be willing to take a bribe. some oral persuasion goes a long way with me.”
you surprise yourself when you end up on your knees in a locked guest bedroom, the taller boy happy as ever as he fists his cock infront of you. even he was surprised this had worked, so he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to draw the whole thing out.
“c’mon rafe, just lemme—”
“nah, nah…” he licks his lips, batting away the hand that reaches for him. he pauses for a moment, looking you over with drooped eyes and parted lips. “i really, really think it’s in your best interest to start beggin’… let’s hear it.” he shrugs, stopping everything to stare you down. you huff, hot in the face and humiliated already.
“please, rafe. let me suck you off.” you mewl, quietly because you can’t bring yourself to speak any louder. he laughs boyishly, tongue poking out as he does so.
“yeah uh, i meant beg for me to let your brother into the frat— you really want this dick in your mouth though don’t you baby? huh?” he teases with a grin and you go all dumb and glassy eyed, barely able to think straight. he clears his throat and sits up straighter at your reaction. “alright, it’s okay— don’t go getting all… upset.” he dismisses, a clammy hand sliding round the back of your neck to bring you closer. “c’mon, get to work. you know what to do.”
you give him your all, because if you were going to stoop this low all for your brother, you might aswell make it worth something. you hollow your cheeks, you drool, you play with his balls, you take him down as far as you can go — all things you knew would get you in his good books. it seems to be working, praises starting to tumble past his lips when you gag on him instead of teasing you.
“shit, good fuckin’ girl. keep takin’ it.” rings through your ears as you switch to jerking him once more, tongue swirling at his tip. this seems to be what sends him over the edge, and just to ensure your place — you swallow.
he’s surprisingly soft with you as you both recover, the cameron boy wiping your mouth on the back of his hand and watching you catch his breath through his own wrecked panting. bless your heart, you’re staring at him with these big hopeful eyes, rimmed by watery mascara and pink scleras, batting gloopy lashes at him like he had all the power in the world. a dangerous thing for a man’s ego.
rafe tucks himself back into his pants, letting out a relieved exhale before cupping your face— leaning in and pressing a kiss to the centre of your forehead. he pulls back, gazing at you with an unreadable expression for a moment before patting your cheek. “i’ll think about it.” he presses his lips in a tight, malicious smile before he stands, walking to the door.
you stare, stomach twisting at the lack of promise despite your efforts and you turn your head from your knelt position, jaw agape. “c’mon, up you get. wouldn’t want anyone seein’ you like this, right?”
‧₊˚👛✩ ₊˚🎀⊹♡
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Pretty Boy pt.2
pairing: na jaemin x f!reader
genre: roommates to lovers
word count: 4.2k
content: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, marking (jaemin receiving), y/n is kinda bad at expressing her feelings lol, sweet jaemin :(
a/n: *taps mic* hello? tysm for the support on part 1 of this story!! <33 i honestly didn’t think it would get so much love but as promised here’s part 2. it’s literally just smut lol but i hope it was worth the wait anyways.
part 1
As soon as you stepped into the room, Jaemin scooped you up, eliciting a loud squeal from you. You instinctively clung onto him as he effortlessly turned you around. Now that you were face to face, your legs wrapped around his torso, your heart would not calm down. He brushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen on your face, and that simple touch made your breath hitch in your throat.
"Are you really up for this? Cause once we start, I might not be able to stop," he whispered softly, his fingers finding their way to the back of your neck, drawing you closer. "I've been wanting to do this for so long, you have no idea."
It was as if he had plucked the words right out of your mind, and you couldn't help but slightly widen your eyes at his confession. He always seemed to possess a talent for articulating what you had been feeling but struggled to express. The truth was, you had indulged in countless fantasies about this very situation, even if you were hesitant to admit it.
Living with someone as attractive as Jaemin proved to be quite the challenge. In the first week after becoming roommates, you found yourself confined to the safety of your own room, too shy to venture out whenever he was around. It was kind of funny, considering that you had known each other for years, albeit without much interaction, despite being part of the same friend group. Your decision to room together was less about being close and more about the practicality of splitting the rent with someone. He happened to be the only one in your circle who needed a roommate, and that's how you ended up in this situation.
The only reason you let your guard down with him was because he turned out to be one needy guy, always craving company. And it became crystal clear that he wouldn’t let you be awkward around him when he burst into your room one day, demanding that you join him for a movie. "It feels like I live alone, and it sucks," he pouted, his need for attention catching you off guard. Still, you found his little tantrum adorable and you only became closer since that day.
As you got to know Jaemin better, you noticed that he had a naturally flirty personality. It seemed like he had an active dating life too, based on what you could gather. You wouldn't label him as a player, though you did witness him hooking up at a few parties you attended together. Still, he never brought anyone home. Your friends would insist that he treated you differently, but you didn't buy into that. Jaemin was just an affectionate person by nature, that's all. His touchy gestures had become so common that you didn't read too much into them. Whether it was him placing his hand on your waist as you walked side by side or playfully toying with your fingers when he was bored you knew it was simply his way of showing comfort and familiarity with you.
You understood him better than anyone else. There was no hidden meaning behind those gestures—it was simply his way of expressing affection in his own Jaemin-esque style.
"I... I wanted this too," you confessed, taking a deep breath. "A lot, actually."
A gorgeous smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. You couldn't help but smile back before leaning in and kissing him. The kiss was sweet and slow, as if you wanted to savor every second.
As soon as your hands found their way to Jaemin's head, you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a gentle pull. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, letting you know he enjoyed that. He led you towards the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress. It struck you that you were in his room, and for some reason, that made you a little jittery. You couldn't recall ever seeing him sneak anyone into his bedroom before, so you wondered if you were the first to do this with him in his own bed.
But the sight in front of you snapped you back to reality. Jaemin was taking off his shirt, revealing a jaw-dropping view of his torso. Sure, you had seen him shirtless in the past, but you'd never really taken the time to truly look at him. His abs were chiseled, and his chest... Well, let's just say it was firm and big. If your face wasn't already burning from the intense kissing, it would have turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
Jaemin clearly found your staring amusing because he shot you a playful smile before closing the distance between your bodies. He positioned himself on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms. His half-nakedness was a big distraction, making it harder for you to maintain eye contact.
"It's not fair that you get to ogle me while you're still fully clothed," he quipped, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. When your eyes met, he had this exaggerated mischievous smile that made you giggle and eased some of your nerves.
Jaemin had never seen you with so little clothing on, which made you hesitate for a moment. Still, you mustered up the courage and boldly grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. No bra, because who bothered with that at home, right? The look on Jaemin's face when he saw you was absolutely priceless. It was as if he couldn't decide which expression to settle on. His gaze fixated on your chest, a mix of curiosity and adoration in his eyes. He nibbled his lip before locking eyes with you.
"You're fucking gorgeous," he blurted out, followed by a dry chuckle. "It’s unbelievable." With those words hanging in the air, he leaned in to kiss you again. The sensation of your bare chests pressing together elicited equally desperate moans from both of you.
Before long, Jaemin started to peel off his sweats. But right before he could remove his boxers, a panicked expression flashed across his face. "Hold on a second," he muttered, scurrying over to one of his drawers and rummaging through it, tossing random stuff aside. After a minute or two of frantic searching, he paused and scratched his neck.
"No condoms?" you asked, finding the situation and his reaction a bit comical.
He turned to face you, his eyebrows furrowing, worried big eyes framed by his long, pretty eyelashes, and a slight pout forming on his lips. It was quite a sight, to be honest.
"I could have sworn I had some," he replied, sounding a bit defeated.
"Well, I guess we can't proceed then," you sighed dramatically, teasing him a little to see his reaction. In reality, you were on birth control and it had been months since you last had sex, plus you trusted that Jaemin was clean. You just wanted to see how he'd respond to the situation.
"I guess not," he mumbled, his mood deflating.
He looked utterly adorable in that moment, like a puppy who had been denied a treat. Unable to resist, you got up and pulled him down to your eye level, whispering something into his ear.
"How about you fuck me…raw?"
You heard the audible gulp that escaped his throat, and when you pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction, you wished you could take a picture of the look on his face. His eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, and his mouth hung open, as if he was about to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.
"W-What?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.
He never expected those words to come out of your pretty mouth.
"I'm on birth control, and I'm clean," you reassured him, trying your best not to burst into laughter as he visibly relaxed. "And you're clean too, right?"
He nodded frantically, and without wasting another moment, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was messier, more urgent, as you both stumbled backward and fell onto the bed, your lips still locked together.
All the teasing and anticipation had both of you on the edge, so you wasted no time stripping off the last bits of clothing. Jaemin's eyes were locked onto your body immediately. He let out a low curse under his breath, his gaze roaming freely over your figure, soaking in every curve and crevice. He couldn't believe his damn luck.
You also couldn't help but indulge in the sight before you. Mesmerized by how his arms flexed as he supported himself above you and how firm his chest felt under your eager hands. Every now and then, his collarbone would tease you too, sticking out just enough to dare you to leave your mark on it.
Jaemin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that made your whole body shake with anticipation. He zeroed in on your breasts, showering them with kisses and playful nibbles, the attention causing your nipples to perk up. At the same time, his hand ventured south, heading straight for the heat between your thighs. When he discovered how wet you were already, a satisfied whimper escaped his lips. Without wasting a beat, he redirected his attention down there, temporarily forgetting about your breasts. With a slow and teasing motion, he slipped off your panties, revealing just how soaked and sticky they were from your arousal. The sight seemed to drive him wild. "Fuck, this is so hot," he breathed out, his voice brimming with desire.
You were on the verge of losing your damn mind with him being so close to your most sensitive spot but not touching it. The warmth of his breath down there was overwhelming, making you forget any self-consciousness. And when you felt his mouth planting kisses on your inner thigh, you were already so far gone you could have thrown all decorum away and begged for him to do something.
"I'm not stopping until all you can say is my name," he promised with a smirk, and without any further warning, he dove right in.
You moaned loudly, caught off guard yet incredibly grateful he was bringing sweet relief to the throbbing ache in your lower stomach. His mouth wasted no time getting cozy down there, switching between kisses, sucks, and licks that sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe it had been way too long since you'd had any action, or maybe he just knew exactly what he was doing, but fuck, you were already on the brink of your first orgasm.
It was crazy how quickly things escalated. A half hour ago you were just hanging out, trying to apply mascara on him, and now he was going down on you. Na Jaemin, the same guy who always drinks his coffee with enough shots to fuel a rocket, screams his balls off during scary movies and uses up your skincare products. That guy was now eating you out like a Michelin-star meal. Who would've guessed? You didn't want to ruin the moment by overthinking how this might change things between you, though. Not that you could even form a coherent thought, with his expert tongue doing magical things down there.
Finally, his eyes met yours, and you could see a glimmer of something animalistic in them. It should've freaked you out a little, but it only turned you on even more. Unable to resist, you grabbed onto his head and pushed him down, silently pleading for him to keep going. Your orgasm was so close, Jaemin knew it too from the way your legs were shaking and closing in on his head. Your hips started to move, grinding against his face like it was second nature. And the way he moaned and groaned against you told you that he loved it.
His tongue was insane, twirling and swirling with a mind of its own. Seriously, how the hell was he so good at this? Words stumbled out of your mouth incoherently as you tried to form a sentence amidst the overwhelming sensations.
"Don't... don't stop," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desperation.
He took your plea to heart, intensifying his lapping and sucking. His grip tightened on your thighs, fingers digging deliciously into your flesh as he anchored himself to you. The combination of his insistent mouth and his tight grasp left you writhing and squirming, completely at his mercy. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself unraveling, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm. And then it hit you, a release that left you gasping for air. You recoiled ever so slightly from the overstimulation, but he didn't let up. His lips remained locked to your throbbing core, greedily savoring every last drop of your release, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
With one final kiss he finally moved away, a glistening trail of your essence still connecting you. The sight alone threatening to tip you over the edge once again. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He started crawling up towards you then.
"Has anyone..." he began, his voice low as he closed the distance between your faces, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, "told you..." his words trailed off, delivered with a deliberate slowness that was driving you crazy, "that you taste..." his face was now mere inches away from yours, his lips teasingly brushing against yours, "fucking delicious."
“Hm, really?” You let your hands wander, fingers tangling in his disheveled locks, pulling him closer.
"If you don't believe me," he whispered huskily, his lips hovering millimeters away from yours, "taste it for yourself."
He closed the remaining distance between your mouths. It was a moment of pure sensory overload, your taste mingling with his. Even though you had just cummed, you craved more of him. You needed him inside you, to fill you up and to bring him pleasure in return. So without wasting a second, you switched positions, the sudden change making him gasp in surprise. Now you were straddling him, your bare core brushed against his lower stomach and his dick pressed against your ass. The sight of your naked body on top of him was something he never thought would happen in real life, and he couldn't help but stare with his mouth hanging open. He instinctively placed his hands on your hips, caressing them gently and giving them a little squeeze, just to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream.
You whispered something in his ear, but he was so lost in the moment that he couldn't even make out the words. However, as soon as he saw you positioning his dick at your entrance, reality snapped back into focus, and his breath hitched in anticipation. He was barely inside you, just the tip, and he already felt like he was about to lose his mind. The way your brows furrowed and your plump lips parted as he stretched you out was incredibly hot, enough to make him almost cum right then and there. But he quickly shook himself out of the trance and firmly gripped your hips to help guide you down onto him.
"Fuck..." he gasped, his voice strained as he buried himself deep inside you.
He was wonderfully thick, stretching you in ways that demanded your body to adjust. You needed a moment to accommodate his size, to savor the delicious sensation of being filled so completely. He granted you the time you needed, showing an unexpected patience as if he, too, needed some time to adjust to the overwhelming tightness that enveloped him. The way you clamped around him now, it felt like an eternity since you had last been filled this good.
The pressure and friction threatened to push Jaemin right over the edge though, and the last thing he wanted was an embarrassing premature orgasm. So, thinking quickly, he flipped both of you over. He wanted nothing more than for you to ride him, but he also knew he had to set the pace to ensure he could last longer.
"Sorry, love, but you're squeezing me so damn tight in that position," he said, and you nodded in understanding. You didn’t really care about positions, all you wanted was for him to fuck you into oblivion.
And that he definitely did. Once he saw you were more comfortable, he started to move, slowly at first. It took a second to find a rhythm that felt good for both of you, but when he saw the way your face contorted in pleasure and how exquisitely tight you became around him, he knew he had found it.
“F-faster..” you moaned, and he obliged immediately.
He raised your leg a bit, resting it on his shoulder and planting a kiss on your thigh before moving. This new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, hitting all the right spots that had you moaning so pathetically loud. You couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that it was just the two of you in here, but at the same time, the thin walls made you hyper-aware of your own loudness. Guess it's time to eat your words about the noisy neighbors, huh?
Jaemin kissed you while keeping that delicious pace. He whispered both dirty and sweet words against your mouth as he rammed into you, his eyes only straying from your face to take in the sight of your bodies coming together. The room was filled with a symphony of sinful sounds that would make even the most hardened eardrums blush. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore if anyone heard. Not when Jaemin had taken it upon himself to make you feel so good. He held nothing back, unleashing a chorus of moans and whimpering that let you know just how much he was enjoying himself.
At that moment, you discovered that you really liked hearing a man become this desperate in bed. But what truly stoked your fire was knowing that you were the one responsible for reducing Jaemin to such a state. It was an ego boost like no other, sending your confidence soaring to new heights. Breaking away from the kiss, an idea took hold of you, and without warning, you swiftly flipped both of you over, seizing control.
The game for dominance was on again, and you were determined to prove just how good you could make Jaemin feel. His chest heaved, his eyes devouring the sight of you bouncing on his cock. He was utterly helpless, unable to control his expressions or the guttural groans that spilled from his lips. It was a side of him you never thought you’d ever see, his vulnerability laid bare as you pushed him to the brink of pleasure-induced tears. The intensity of the sensations made his head fall back, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as you squeezed around him deliciously.
Taking advantage of the opening, you set your sights on his neck, starting with wet kisses that gradually escalated to nibbles and gentle sucks. You quickly found his weak spot right below his ear. Every time your lips closed around that particular spot, his grip tightened on your hips, and his cock twitched inside you in response.
"Fuck... k-keep doing that," he managed to gasp out, his voice husky and strained from the exertion.
So you did, you kept sucking on all the spots that he liked and as you continued your ministrations he thrusted into you harder and more desperately edging you both closer to the release.
"I-I-m... c..." Your words trailed off into a jumble of incomprehensible sounds. The pleasure was too intense for coherent sentences to form.
"Jaemin..." The syllables of his name escaped your lips repeatedly, like a desperate mantra. This seemed to rile him up even more, prompting him to hold you tighter and unleash a frenzy of powerful thrusts that defied all restraint. He knew exactly how to hit that sweet spot, driving you crazy with each perfectly aimed thrust.
He adjusted his position, sitting up slightly to gain better control. This subtle shift allowed him to fuck deeper into you. "Jaemin, fu-—" You couldn't hold back, sinking your teeth into his shoulder and scratching at him. He was fucking you so hard into your second orgasm that you could no longer control your own body. The climax hit you with such force that it felt like a burst of stars behind your closed eyelids.
"Fuck!" he yelled and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he finally came undone, riding the waves of your orgasm until you were both spent. The intensity of the moment left you both so physically exhausted that all you could do was collapse against each other, breathless and sweaty.
You wish the post-nut clarity didn’t hit you as hard as it did , but as you mustered the courage to lift your face from Jaemin’s neck and meet his gaze, a flood of thoughts raced through your mind.
What the fuck are we now?
He seemed to grasp the unspoken thoughts that danced in your eyes, as he often did.
"Don't do that," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your nose.
"Do what?" you whispered back.
"Don't look at me as if something has changed between us," he replied, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"But something did change," you admitted weakly, your voice betraying your vulnerability.
"No, you're still you, and I'm still me. We just know each other a little more intimately now, and maybe that's for the best.”
You furrowed your brows at his words, not quite understanding. He sighed upon seeing your lost expression and decided to just let it all out.
“Yeah we had sex, and it was amazing and I so badly want to do this again I could cry but no matter what happens between us, I’m always gonna be your annoying roommate," he ruffled your hair softly.
You let out a contented sigh at his words, but doubt still lingered. "Don't you think it will be weird though?…Now that... you know," you trailed off, averting your gaze, feeling a sudden shyness.
"What? Now that you've seen what my dick looks like?" he said with a playful tone, making you laugh and gently slap his arm. "Sure, maybe you're a bit starstruck, but I promise you, it'll be fine.
"Can you be serious for a second?" you asked, rolling your eyes playfully, but he gently grabbed your chin, urging you to meet his gaze.
"I am serious. I don’t think it’ll be weird at all. I don’t know about you but I really, really enjoyed it," he confessed, his sincerity sent your heart racing, making it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings. "Y/N, I've liked you for a while now. I mean, everyone else could see it, right? I'm tired of pretending it's nothing or that I can just get over it. Living with you just makes it harder to ignore. You're the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing before I sleep. I'm sorry if this sounds rushed or random, but it's not just because of the amazing orgasm you just gave me. I've never been this serious about anything in my life, and you know me well enough to know I mean it." The words spilled out effortlessly, almost like he had rehearsed them (he totally did).
You didn't need to say a single word in response. The way you were looking at him with such genuine affection conveyed everything without the need for verbal confirmation. Jaemin was definitely the more expressive of the two when it came to feelings but he was always able to pick up on the subtle cues and actions that hinted at your affection. Despite your tough exterior and cutthroat attitude towards others, he noticed how you always softened in his presence. Your face would light up, that permanent frown vanishing, as soon as he acted silly or cracked a joke. And when it came to physical touch, he saw how guarded you were with everyone else, even your closest friends. Yet, you always welcomed his hugs and kisses freely, as if it was second nature. All these little signs had added up over time, painting a clear picture of your feelings, even if it was challenging for you to express them in words. Jaemin had picked up on those clues, cherishing each one as the evidence that confirmed what he had hoped for all along – that you liked him just as much as he liked you.
"Oh, and I meant it when I said I'd love to do it again," he added after a few seconds, trying to play it cool.
"Same here... and, uh, by the way, your mascara is all smudged," you blurted out, the realization making you both chuckle.
feedback is greatly appreciated! also feel free to send requests! i’ll try to post on here more often.
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No Hay Distancia (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
A fic for you all finally. I'm sorry it's taken so long! It is slightly different to how I normally write so I hope it is okay!
The sun had dipped low on the horizon as a warm, golden glow bathed the city of Barcelona from your place on the balcony. It was a beautiful evening, and for you, it marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. You had just moved to this vibrant Spanish city from Seattle, leaving behind your time at OL Reign and starting your new one with FC Barcelona Femení. The change had been exhilarating and intimidating, but the one thing that made all the change worthwhile was the anticipation of finally being with the love of your life, Alexia Putellas.
You and Alexia had met three years ago; your connection was ignited by your shared passion for football. Alexia's mesmerizing skills on the field had drawn you to her instantly and had you almost tripping over your own feet mid-match at the beauty she held. Despite living miles apart, you had managed to build a strong and steady bond. It had been a long-distance relationship full of late-night calls, text messages, and fleeting visits whenever either of your busy schedules allowed. You were another world away, playing as part of the OL Reign team, while she was at her home club of Barcelona, and the time difference often felt like a cruel challenge. Not anymore, though.
The evening was drawing to a close, and you had yet to even start to unpack the many suitcases you had with you, not sure where your belongings belonged in your now shared home. Not only did you have what you had brought on the plane with you, but you also had some storage things coming via courier soon. Something you might not have told Alexia about just yet. Your excitement was building as you started on the first case, although unpacking a case was hard to do when a small dog kept jumping in it. You knew the drawing in of the evening meant that Alexia would be finished with training soon and therefore should be coming home for the first official time to your shared home. You kept glancing at your phone, waiting for Alexia to finish her training session, a session you would be joining soon enough. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
Finally, your phone buzzed with a message from Alexia: "Buenas tardes, mi amor. I'm on my way home now. I really can't wait to see you!" You couldn't help the smile and massive bubble of excitement that surged through you at reading that simple message. You had to read the "on my way home" part a couple of times to believe this was your reality.
When you heard the distinct sound of a key scratching into a lock, you practically sprinted to meet her at the door, Nala hot on your heels almost as excited as you were for the woman’s arrival. There she was, Alexia, with her signature smile that could melt anyone's heart but especially yours. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she pulled you into a tight hug. It felt like more than a dream; it felt like a moment you had been waiting for years for was finally happening.
"¡Te extrañé tanto, mi amor!" Alexia whispered, her voice laced with genuine emotion, and you could feel the slight lump in her throat that she swallowed down as she spoke.
"I missed you too, Lex," you replied, tears welling up in your eyes from the memories of saying that countless times over FaceTime or the phone rather than in person. Not only were those tears for that, but they were also for the fact that you wouldn't have to say it that way or as often anymore.
You cherished every second you had right then, soaking her in. This moment felt like your life was finally getting started after being on hold for the few years you had been apart. Your heart ached thinking about the lonely nights you had endured, the longing you had felt when Alexia was on the other side of the world. But now, it was all worth it. The physical proximity made your love feel stronger than ever, making the time spent apart worthwhile.
Over the next few weeks, you explored your new home with Alexia by your side as your very excitable tour guide. You visited famous landmarks, indulged in delicious Spanish cuisine, and shared countless tender moments that you had been waiting to share consistently together for ages. The days of counting the time difference to see what hour of the day your other half was in seemed like a distant memory something you were beyond grateful for.
One evening, after a particularly gruelling training session, Alexia collapses onto the couch completely exhausted. You can't help but smile as you watch her, her passion and dedication to her sport unwavering even on training days.
"Rough day at the office?" You tease knowing full well what her day has been like, yours equally as hard. Although due to you being a defender and her being an attacker, the days of training had been slightly different for each of you.
Alexia chuckles, her voice tinged with fatigue. "You have no idea.” The statement was accompanied by a smirk and a wink one that had you stifling a giggle at her antics. “But it's all worth it when I get to come home with you." The statement has a blush taking over your whole face.
You join her on the couch, snuggling up to her. "I'm proud of you, Lex. You're amazing."
Alexia leans in for a sweet, tender kiss, her lips soft and warm against yours. "And I'm proud of you too. You've adapted to this new life so well."
You smile, feeling a surge of happiness. "It's easy when I have you by my side."
The two of you sat there for a while before you pushed up off her and got to your feet. When you looked back at the woman on the sofa you chuckled at the pout, she was sending your way. “Stop that, someone needs to make dinner and seeing as you almost fell asleep two seconds ago, I think it's going to have to be me.” You sent her a wink before heading to the kitchen.
About 30 minutes later you had plated up the simple chicken and pasta dish into two bowls and wandered back into the living space to give Alexia her bowl. When you walked around the couch you couldn’t help the smile that instantly spread across your face at the sight of the woman sleeping with Nala curled up in the space in front of her chest.
You placed the bowls on the coffee table and gently ran your fingers through the older woman’s hair trying to stir her slowly and gently from her slumber. When that didn’t work and she just sighed contently, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to her hairline brushing a few soft kisses there as you spoke gently but not too quietly. “Come on mi amor time to wake up, you need to eat before we can go to bed properly.”
Alexia's eyes blinked up at you a few times as she slowly came back to the land of the awake. Her legs stretched out as her body shouted at her to get out of the cramped position, this action woke up the sleeping dog who shouted her distaste for being woken up with a sharp bark before leaping off the couch and trotting to her food bowl which you had placed her dinner in before serving your own.
By the time Alexia had sat up, you had both bowls back in your hands and ready to go, your stomach letting Alexia know how ready you were to eat with a rather loud rumble. As she grabbed her plate from you, she teased you the whole evening was very domestic and was one of the first evenings you thought about how far you had come to be here doing just this with the woman.
As the months continue to pass by, your connection with Alexia deepens. You share countless moments that strengthen your bond, from the simple pleasures of waking up together and preparing meals to playing alongside each other on the football pitch. Your love is evolving and growing stronger with each challenge you face and each triumph you achieve together.
Barcelona becomes more than just a city; it becomes your home. Its streets, its people, and its culture all contribute to the love that starts to bloom in your chest when thinking about the city. You explore hidden gems with the people around you, you savour the delicious Spanish cuisine both home-cooked and in restaurants, and you revel in the rich history that surrounds you. You were exploring one of these small gems when Alexia turned to you, her eyes filled with love. "I can't believe you're finally here with me," she said, her voice soft and full of emotion you never thought you would see from the normally strong, stoic woman, not outside of the home anyway.
You smile and take Alexia's hand in yours. "I couldn't be happier here. Being with you is all I ever wanted and I’m so glad we made it work and get to be here in the same place together."
Your lips meet in a sweet, lingering kiss, sealing your love in the city where your dreams have come true. No longer does distance stand between you, for now, you're together, and your love will only continue to grow stronger with each passing day.
As the weeks turned into months, you and Alexia settled more into your life together in Barcelona. You found your footing as a new star for the FC Barcelona women’s football team alongside your partner, making connections with your teammates and fitting in perfectly. The routines you and Alexia had created slowly made life in the sunny city run smoothly. If one cooked, the other washed up; if one hoovered, the other did the laundry, and so on. This solidified the decision you made to move thousands of miles away from your original home, making the wonderful connection between you even stronger.
Yet, like any relationship, challenges arose. The demands of your and Alexia's football careers and your joint busy schedules tested your commitment and your time together. The time difference between Barcelona and Seattle had once been a source of frustration, but new challenges required just as much resilience and understanding.
One evening, after a particularly tough practice, Alexia sank into the couch, her face etched with exhaustion. "I can't believe the season is already halfway over. I feel like I have been playing for a year straight already."
You sat down beside her, offering a comforting touch by bringing her into you and letting her rest against your body. "You are doing amazing, Lex. But it is okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes with all the added captain's stress you have going on. I am always here for you."
Alexia leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against the support. "I know, but it is just so hard. Balancing everything—training, matches, the media, and us. I feel like I have been neglecting our time together because I have a promo deal to complete or do an interview for someone. I know we still get evenings, but I am just so exhausted when it comes to them, and I don’t feel like I’m giving you enough."
Understanding the weight of the responsibilities that came with Alexia's position, you reassured her, "You give me all you can at the time and that will always be okay with me. Any time I get with you is perfect and even when that time is limited or maybe even just snuggling up in bed together, it is still time with you. Not too long ago I was only getting to see your face on a screen and now I get to see it in person all the time. I get to fall asleep at the same time as you and wake up to you. So please don’t worry about us, okay? We have got this and will get through it together. I promise."
A few weeks after Alexias confessed to how she was struggling a bit with commitments and time together another hurdle was thrown your way. Your evening was meant to be spent together having a date night at a restaurant you have both been wanting to try but here you were sat with Alexia on the couch in comfy clothes instead, both of you mentally and physically drained from your respective commitments. "I know it's tough, Lex," you began, "but look at how far we've come. We've tackled challenges together before, and we'll do it again. Your dedication is incredible, and I'm so proud of everything you've achieved."
Alexia's tired eyes met yours, filled with gratitude, care and love. "And I'm proud of you, too. You've always been there for me, no matter what. I couldn't ask for a better partner in this journey."
In those moments, the challenges that once seemed insurmountable become stepping stones on your shared path. Your love remains a constant, a light that guides you through the most challenging times. You both know that no matter what the future holds, you have each other's backs, ready to face any obstacles together. The challenges may be different, but your love remains as strong as ever, a bond that continues to grow with every test it faces.
The season has come to a close and you aren’t far off completing your first year in Barcelona when you find yourself and Alexia on the rooftop of your apartment building, the city's lights stretching out before you like a sea of stars. You lean against the railing, taking in the breathtaking view, and Alexia joins you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder so she can look out too but keep you close.
"This city is incredible," you say, your voice filled with wonder.
"It is, but it's even better with you here," Alexia replies, turning her head slightly to press a small chaste kiss against the side of your neck. This prompts you to want more so you turn to face her, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. The warm night air and the city's enchanting lights create the perfect backdrop for your love to soar. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but marvel at how far you've come since your first meeting, how much you have both overcome to be here and together nonetheless.
The city's lights continue to twinkle below you, a testament to the vibrant life of Barcelona. As you stand there with Alexia, you can't help but think about how much your lives have changed since that first match, the one where you couldn't take your eyes off her mesmerizing skills and beauty. It's been an incredible journey, one filled with love, passion, challenges and unwavering support for each other.
You turn your attention back to the woman who had you wrapped up in her arms, a radiant smile on your face. "You know, I used to watch Barcelona's games on TV back in Seattle, dreaming about being here and playing with you. Now, it's all come true."
Alexia grins, her eyes shining with pride. "Dreams do come true, mi amor. I'm so glad you're living yours and that it matches perfectly with mine."
The night is still young, and the possibilities seem endless. With your hands entwined and resting on your stomach, you both look out at the city knowing that your life together was just beginning. You can’t help but feel grateful for the journey that has brought you to this moment here, for the love you get to experience and for Barcelona that has become the backdrop to the next chapter in your life. A life you know will be filled with love, football, and the promise of a future with the woman you have loved for a long time from afar.
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I'M STARVING, DARLING (8)
SUMMARY: For the first time in a long time, you and Astarion find yourself experiencing a sense of normalcy through the chaos.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 3,346
WARNINGS: Sexual tension (there always is with these two, whoops), a bit of bloodsucking, mentions of past abuse, angst if you squint.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long! I'm back from vacay at work and died for four days straight but now we're back! Sort of!
Updates from now on might not be as frequent but I'm going to try and post weekly; maybe on Saturdays?
CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER
-
“Don’t you dare.”
At this point, you’ve been lying there for what feels like hours, locked inside his arms —unable to bring yourself to move thanks to the comfort you feel surrounding your frame. A comfort you haven’t felt in a long time as you listen to the raspy way his voice tickles your neck, prompting you to sigh and give in, knowing that resistance is futile.
“They’re going to kill us, you know.”
Shifting awkwardly to face him, you try not to smile when he peaks one eye open, quickly closing it when he catches your own. “I’d like to see them try considering I’m already dead.”
“Yes, well I’m not.”
He huffs, clutching you further into his chest. “And that’s my problem?”
Rolling your eyes, you playfully smack his face before wriggling from his grasp, moving to sit upright with a groan. As you do, you quickly remember the events of last night and slowly roll your bare shoulders, feeling them click in and out of place before you raise your arms to the sky with a yawn.
Despite your better judgement, you stayed up far too late, enjoying the ever-growing intimacy the night had to offer. All of the lingering touches and longing gazes mixed between small bouts of passion and a rather lengthy dip in the tub were nothing short of worth it. In fact, if you were honest, it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. A proper break from the chaos you’d been unwillingly thrust into as of late.
You knew because of that it’d be hard to wake up. To let your mind move from fantasy to reality as the sun hit your face and the reminder of the oncoming doom filtered through your tired mind.
What you weren’t prepared for however was Astarion’s lack of restraint as his curious fingers begin to slip across your back. Carefully drawing up and down your spine, his fingers move in delicate motions, sending an onslaught of shivers down your spine that have him chuckling under his breath, shuffling closer toward your frame.
“If you told me last night I’d be enjoying such a delicious view…”
When you turn to give him a narrow-eyed look he trails off, looking at you with feigned innocence as he kisses your shoulder blade, allowing his lips to linger as you stare him down.
“You’re lucky you're cute.”
“And you’re lucky my blade’s still attached to my clothes. Otherwise it’d be at your throat threatening you back to bed.”
“Kinky.”
Immediately he snorts, pressing his forehead against your back. “For fuck sakes— come back to bed, please. I won’t ask you again.”
Biting your lip, you look around the room for a moment, picking apart the disaster of discarded clothes and muddied floors mixed between half-opened packs of supplies. Somehow despite the disarray of it all you still manage to smile as you crane your neck back, knowing that you should get up but ultimately give in to temptation, shuffling around Astarion’s frame to rest your head back on your pillow.
“Fine. You win.”
“Win?” He slips effortlessly into your side, leaning over to place a chaste kiss to your cheek before tracing the edge of your jaw with his finger. “And what pray tell is my prize?”
“My company.”
He scrunches up his face in false disgust, softly taking hold of your chin. “I was hoping for something a bit more exciting.”
It’s apparent then that he’s looking for a repeat of the hours prior. More moments of shared ecstasy before the inevitable shift in focus occurs and you’re most likely left wanting for another few weeks.
It’s tempting for sure. Especially when he slips a leg between your own, gently pushing his thigh against that spot that has you swallowing hard as you close your eyes.
“You and I both know—“
He cuts you off with a long kiss. One that’s devoid of anything other than the hunger of a starved man, reaching for that initial bite. It’s all tooth and tongue —a mess of movements that have him shifting upright to straddle your leg, breathing hard against your open mouth as he slots his teeth against your lower lip, making you groan.
“Sorry darling, what were you saying?” His grin is wicked when he pulls away, using the moment of dazed confusion to stroke your cheek as you open your mouth to speak. When nothing comes out he merely chuckles and places a much softer kiss in the same spot, resting against you for a second or two before pulling away.
“You’re awful.”
“And you’re easy,” he muses, moving his thigh against you. “Desperate even.”
Immediately, there’s a part of you that wants to argue that the feeling of your legs suddenly tightening around his own as your breath begins to falter isn’t the result of your desperation, but his. That you’re merely just a victim to his charms like always. However, the bigger part of you knows he’ll probably make you feel otherwise. More than likely, he’ll retort with something far too clever and make you second-guess your words.
So instead, you merely give in to his claims, humming quietly as he explores your frame, quickly laying waste to your neck with an open-mouthed kiss that makes you crave that feeling again. The cold nothingness brought on by his teeth latching against you.
Despite its somewhat violent cause, you still long to remember the feeling. The incomparable bliss of that icy jolt before total numbness occurs, leaving you lightheaded and empty. Suddenly, it takes over your mind, flashing amongst the current movements of his mouth trailing down your torso.
All of it’s enough to say his name. Quietly through the haze of desire, you feel him pause and look up, raising a brow at your heavy chest as you cup his cheek. “Are you hungry?”
He looks at you confused. “If this is some sneaky way of trying to get out of bed, I can assure you—“
“No.” You shake your head, moving it slightly to the side to showcase your throat. “Are you hungry?”
For a moment there’s an undeniable tension that grows. Festering amongst naked skin and scratchy sheets, it builds by the second, making your chest ache with the kind of nervous anticipation that has you wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have spoke.
He may be a vampire but thus far he’s managed to keep himself from feeding on you since that first time. Something you were both surprised and disappointed by, considering you had expected him to ask for more. Especially after the reaction of his previous feed. It was obvious that it was enjoyable. A moment of pure decadence that left him wanting more despite the consequences.
“Wait a minute, am I dreaming?”
His face is suddenly inches from yours, his breath wafting against your face through a grin that makes you chuckle. “No.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m sure I’ve dreamt of this exact scenario once or twice.”
“Have you now?”
He hums with a nod, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “Yes. However, the only difference is that I was in a castle and Cazador’s head was on a stick in the corner.”
You snort and wrap your arms around his head, pulling him closer. “Sorry to disappoint. Hopefully you can consider my offer the next best thing?”
“I suppose. But only because you were my first.”
First?
Immediately, you wonder if it’s a slip of the tongue —another one of his flirtatious lies sent to woo despite already having you. Given the nature of his past, it wouldn’t be all that surprising. Considering his role under Cazador’s thumb was to charm and lure, you know that lies like this are still second nature. A mechanism of lust ingrained into his psyche.
Plus, it’s not like it’s possible for you to actually be his first. Having spent most of his time in spaces like this, a bit of bloodletting was bound to happen at some point. It was inevitable really when you think of Astarion’s voice and face and overall ability to manipulate.
Surely it’d be hard to resist. But then it dawns on you —the severity of his abuse. The tightened leash so carefully tied around his neck for hundreds of years. There’s no way Cazador would’ve allowed him such pleasantries. Despite his efforts —despite the countless opportunities to take his fill, it quickly becomes apparent that he wouldn’t.
Because he couldn’t.
Because despite the allowance to explore the city, he was still considering nothing.
It makes your heart simultaneously skip and break, watching the sudden nervousness that clouds his features. The way his cheeky grin sort of falls out of place, showcasing an underlying fear that has him licking his lips and searching your face.
“Is that true?”
All he does is nod his head, looking at you with such sincerity that the only way you’re able to respond is to inhale slowly. To stop and stare and subtly nod back, hoping that he understands.
When he does you’re met with nothing but anticipation. A breathless series of moments leading up to Astarion’s mouth against your throat, warming up the skin with languid licks that have you closing both your eyes, waiting for the pain.
“I don’t understand what I did to deserve you.”
The edges of his teeth scrape gently over your skin, making you swallow and sigh, unable to answer because you’re too busy preparing. Too busy expecting the pain before it eventually subsides into that numbness you so desperately crave.
“Thank you, for this. Truly.”
His voice feels like velvet on your skin. The way it coasts the expanse of it in the softest of praise before it’s surpassed by that first initial jolt, ripping through your flesh in one quick push. Groaning lowly, you feel the presence of his teeth slide inside before you can even process, his lips haphazardly slotting over top to suck.
Without much warning you find yourself lost. Laying slack against the bed, unable to even bring yourself to grab his hair like the first time, you merely ride the wave of pain and pleasure that repeatedly breaks against you. Allowing it all to sink in with a quiet hum that has him smiling against your throat, lapping up bloodshed after bloodshed until he hears the door crash open.
“It's way past sunrise what the hell are you —oh fucking— Astarion, seriously?”
Both of you look over in horror to see Karlach looking down at the floor —her one hand covering her face as she disapprovingly shakes her head, realizing what she’s just witnessed.
Upon noticing, you know she isn’t all that surprised —just disappointed. A feeling that makes you sick to your stomach as you work to sit up, swearing under your breath and reaching for the nearest sheet despite your head starting to spin.
“I know we’ve been without proper shelter for months but for god's sake Karlach doors exist for a reason!”
Mortified, you look between them as Astarion scolds, noticing the subtle smirk that rises over Karlach’s lips. “Well, maybe if the two of you got up when you were supposed to instead of lying around sucking each other off I wouldn’t have to fucking come up here in the first place!”
“To be fair, we never got to the part where I suck him off.”
Immediately, Karlach groans while Astarion snorts, prompting you to press your lips together to suppress a laugh as the energy in the room shifts toward your favour.
“You two are just —just… come downstairs, please. Gale was supposed to cook breakfast but his hand’s still sore from the fight yesterday.”
“What the hell does that have to do with us?” Astarion asks but unfortunately, you already know the answer.
“You know how protective he gets over the cooking duties.” Annoyed, Karlach rolls her eyes, dropping her hand from her face to motion to you. “He won’t let anyone else but Blood-Bag over here do it.”
Both of you groan but relent, telling Karlach you’ll be down soon before she grumbles a low you better be before shutting the door.
When she’s gone you let out a sigh of relief, moving to sit up and shuffle towards the edge of the bed, trying your best to ignore the aching in your neck and the piercing gaze of Astarion’s frustration honing in on his handiwork.
“Don’t even think about it,” you tell him then, narrowing your eyes at the hunger that lingers beneath the surface, threatening to rise all over again at the sight of your bloodied skin.
Despite this, you know he’s most definitely thinking about it. Intensely and angrily, it’s probably the only thing he’s thinking about as he watches you push off the bed and move to your pack to grab a washcloth.
“Can’t I just finish you off?”
As you wipe down your neck, watching the way he frowns at the waste of blood you groan. “Astarion—“
“Please?”
He’s at your side in an instant, wrapping his greedy hands around your waist, pulling you in all over again. Convincing you that despite the importance of your compatriot’s breakfast, his fill still reigns supreme.
“Fine but—“
“I promise to return the favour.” He cuts you off with a smirk. One that’s laced with lust and quickly finds its way back to its home, stopping at the entrance with bated breath.
You can’t help but roll your eyes through your suppressed grin in response, feeling his fangs hit your neck only to stop when the door rings out in a series of knocks causing you both to close your eyes and groan, knowing it’ll have to wait till later.
A fact that stirs an anger in both of you as you begrudgingly clean and throw on your clothes, attempting to ignore all the tension as you head downstairs to the communal kitchen space.
Inside there’s about half a dozen bodies, slaving over pots and pans and chatting with their peers as they await their meals. In the corner, Gale and Shadowheart stand chatting amongst themselves, unaware of your presence until you’re standing before them, hands crossed grumpily over your chest.
“Ah! About time you two showed up! We were beginning to think you’d abandoned the crew —or worse.”
“What could possibly be worse than leaving all of you behind?” Astarion asks dully, prompting you to shoot him a glare that has Shadowheart cocking her head.
“Where’s Karlach? Did she find you?” she asks.
Both of you nod, trying your best not to reveal the events of her findings before quickly changing the subject, signalling Gale to go into some long-winded rant about the importance of breakfast.
After that Astarion zones out completely. Standing alongside you, you can tell his mind is elsewhere as you and the wizard discuss the various ingredients you have on hand, working together to ultimately decide on a simple breakfast hash you could’ve easily whipped up without the lecture.
“Do you want me to supervise or?”
You shake your head. “Seriously Gale. I’m fine. I’ve been cooking since I was five. Go rest with the others.”
It takes some further reassurance; mostly from Shadowheart who insists that you’re right because of how starving she is. But eventually, he manages to set aside his pride with a sigh, muttering something about spices before being dragged away, leaving just the two of you.
“I swear I’ve never seen a more uptight wizard.” Astarion shakes his head while you wander over to the nearest prep table, producing a cutting board and a blade from Gale’s leftover pack. “I mean, I know they’re all pretty tightly wound but him—“
“Can you start peeling potatoes for me?”
He looks at you like you’ve just insulted his character. With widened eyes and open lips, he takes a minute to look around the room to see if you’re speaking to someone else before he realizes he’s the only one there. “Me?”
“Yes, you. C’mere.”
He does, but only to further stand there and stare, letting out a laugh. “Oh darling, I don’t cook. Hunt, yes, but obviously considering the fangs and all that you and I both know I no longer have a need for culinary skills.”
Ignoring his words you hand him the knife and motion to the spot next to you, watching as he reluctantly obeys. “Peel these then cut them into chunks about this big.” You show him the sizing with your fingers, hoping he’s smart enough to understand before tossing a couple of potatoes in front of him. “Then cut these peppers about half that size.”
As you hand over the peppers, Astarion continues to look at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, darling.”
“Dead, actually.” You grin mischievously, procuring some eggs that Gale managed to trade off of one of the other cooks before you arrived along with a bowl. “Besides, I recall a moment earlier when you said you’d return the favour?”
“Sexually,” he states. Then, he grabs the nearest potato and begins to peel, shakily slicing off a piece of potato skin. “Also, if I recall we didn’t even finish your end of the bargain.”
“Yet.”
Realizing that you’re right, he merely huffs and continues to peel, wreaking havoc along the knuckles of his fingers in the process.
It makes you frown, watching him struggle as you crack your eggs and mix, remembering that he probably hasn’t done this in years. For the last two centuries, he was too busy hunting whatever he could find underground, desperately consuming whatever crossed his path —meaning he probably hasn’t used a knife for anything other than violence since before he was turned. A depressing fact that has you reaching for his hand and examining his wounds with tired eyes.
“Can I show you how to hold it?”
There’s a moment where he goes to protest but ultimately accepts, looking at you half-annoyed as you explain the angle at which the knife should sit in his hand and the amount of pressure you should use.
“I don’t know why you insist on having me help. I don’t eat any of it.”
As he speaks he still takes your advice, letting the knife carefully slide across the potato, avoiding his knuckles entirely, making you grin. “It’s not about eating. It’s about making something you’re proud of.”
“How can you be proud of something that will no longer exist in an hour?”
You shrug your shoulders, unsure how to explain as the two of you then work in silence. As he peels and cuts, you prep your eggs before moving on to the sausage, dumping the meat into a pan with some simple spices that most definitely weren’t on Gale’s list.
You discover then how easy this all feels. From the moment you woke up, it’s as if you’ve been transported to a new life. One where the threat of danger is lost just like the stagnant tadpole behind your eye. In your mind, there’s not a care in the world other than Astarion’s knife skills and the hungry bellies that impatiently sit and it’s nice. Simple. The kind of life you quickly find yourself longing to have as the two of you continue to cook, occasionally joking about your peers between flirtatious touches and suggestive comments that have your chest feeling warm.
“You know with some practice you might actually be a handy prep cook.”
Bumping your hip against Astarion’s you notice a flicker in his gaze. One that’s filled with something foreign and happy as the two of you begin walking out your freshly cooked meal. “I’d say you’re wrong but considering my toxic pride, I’ll merely agree.”
Before you can respond the whole table catches your attention. Their eyes are wide with want as you set the bowl of hash at the centre of the table, barely blinking before they’re shovelling it onto their respective plates and expressing their thanks; filling Astarion with a new kind of pride that makes him fully understand just what you meant earlier.
-
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why does sleepwalking women and gothic horror go hand in hand
You asking me?
The answer is voyeurism.
Here's the thing about gendered horror: the goddamn eroticism. You can't escape it, people want to get their rocks off even when they're terrified-- especially when they're terrified! It's such popular imagery because of the intimacy of a woman with all her hair let down in only a white nightgown highlighted by the pale moonlight. A nightgown is very innocent in its intimacy, there's nothing inherently sexual about it, but that just gets people even more horny! No structured garments underneath-- she's wearing breeches obviously but shhh no she's totally naked save for some sheer billowing fabric.
EDIT: oh my god blah blah blah "breeches! actually she wouldn't be wearing those!! oh my god, they got it wrong, just shoot them in the streets, your honour!" FINE SHE'S NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES UNDER THERE, GOOD FOR YOU YOU GOT ME.
Gasp! Unprotected purity! I sure hope no dastardly villain tarnishes this woman! (they do. they do hope for that actually)
This isn't a very fun answer, is it? But it's worth saying. Horror explicitly involving women tends to be very visual with plenty of (arguably) sexual imagery. Men get the mindboggling horrors inconceivable to the human psyche while women are limited to being eye candy who faint before their minds can even be boggled (no that isn't a euphemism). Even when the women in question previously had a larger role in the story than "sexy lamp", pop culture will be quick to reframe it in the way that has the most sex appeal.
But like... let's take the woman's perspective: you're in a state of undress and completely unaware of your surroundings. It's dark and anyone lurking around at this time might very well have bad intentions, and they might turn those bad intentions on you. And you'll be blamed for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong dress. Terrifying. And people don't really appreciate the terror of it because... it's pretty, isn't it?
But then Lucy is weeping in her sleep, and Mina is covering her feet in mud for propriety. Because who knows what a man will do to them if he sees her naked feet? They're both cowering in fear hoping a drunken man doesn't take notice of them. Because who knows what he'll do to them if he sees two young ladies out at night? They're sweating from not just exertion but stress, and their messy hair clings to their frightened faces. They cannot tell anyone. Because who knows what toll this night might take on their good reputations?
It's not pretty. There's no see-through dresses (seriously their nightgowns are made of fucking linen, not organza), no flowing locks, no full faces of makeup, just pure society-ingrained horror.
But cis men don't typically understand that horror because they aren't usually victim to it. It honestly makes me sad and angry that the imagery is so prominent (and in such a watered-down and bland "sexy" way) because it reduces the actual horror these two protagonists face to nothing more than an audience's voyeuristic fantasy in which the women are only objects to be gawked at. The danger is reframed as tantalizing and enticing "ooo good girls (unknowingly) being bad in their sleep!" rather than... they could have fucking died. Or worse.
... But I still want to draw my girls (Jonathan, Mina, and Lucy) in cute nightgowns, so I'll bite my tongue.
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Swan Song | Jake Hangman Seresin |
Carole Bradshaw was pregnant when Goose died. Newly pregnant, too early to even know. The pregnancy was hard, not just emotionally but physically. The birth was even harder, but in the end Carole was left with a beautiful baby girl. She had Goose’s eyes from the start, big and brown, just like her big brother Bradley. Her smile was contagious from the very beginning and soon she was growing into a beautiful young woman.
Y/N was very close with her big brother Bradley. They were nearly inseparable. So when Bradley joined the Navy, it took everything to convince Y/N that she shouldn’t follow in his footsteps. She went to college nearby, and got her degree slowly but surely. And once it was all said and done, and Bradley had a permanent position at Miramar, Y/N joined him there.
“C’mon! Just take me for one drink!” You begged your older brother, “You never let me meet any of your friends! Even Penny said you should let me come!”
“Penny needs to mind her own business,” Bradley grumbled, throwing on one of your dad’s old Hawaiian shirts.
“No, Penny definitely needs to butt in more,” You argued, “She wants me to actually make friends here. Outside of the studio!”
“You’re the one who decided to move here,” Bradley pointed out.
“And you’re the one who keeps me virtually locked up here!”
“It’s my job to protect you. None of the people I work with are worth knowing, anyway, aside from Phoenix maybe.”
“Great, so introduce me to Phoenix!” You begged.
“One drink,” He held up one finger, eyebrows pinched tight. He wasn’t joking. You were his baby sister, it was his job to look after you and protect you from everyone and everything. Including everyone he worked with.
He wasn’t even sure if the Daggers knew he had a little sister. Phoenix and Bob knew, because they were Phoenix and Bob. But the others had no idea, and Bradley planned on keeping it that way if he could help it. He wanted you to stay as far away from military men as you possibly could
“Two,” You bargained.
“Fine, then you’re coming home.”
“You have to play me one song too,” You said firmly, “One round of Great Balls and I’ll be happy.”
“You have yourself a deal,” He sighed, “Now c’mon. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
You threw your arms up in victory and ran to go change quickly out of your leotard. Twenty minutes later, you were pulling into the parking lot of the famous Hard Deck. Another five minutes after that and you had a cocktail in your hands as you watched Brad mingle with various people in uniform. He hated wearing his uniform to the Hard Deck, he always came home to change first.
“Penny, my dear, can I get another one?” A blonde asked, “Thanks darlin!”
You rolled your eyes and took another sip. Once the blonde had his new bottle of beer he turned his attention to you, which you were hoping to avoid. You had watched him watching just about every girl in this bar. He seemed to know everyone, and know all of the girls. It made you want to be sick.
“Now who might you be, sweetheart?”
You eyed Penny, who not so casually eyed the bell by the corner of the bar top. You wanted to laugh knowing she’d ring this guy in an instant for you. All you had to do was say the word.
“Not your type,” You replied, taking another sip, “Try the leggy blonde at the other end. She’s drooling over all of you patches.”
“I don’t think I want a tag chaser,” He replied, southern draw on full display, “What’s your name?”
You huffed before setting your cocktail down on the bar in front of you and turning slightly to face the man, “They call me Swan.”
“You a pilot?” He questioned, eyebrows raised.
“No, just related to one. My uncles gave me my own callsign when I was a kid,” you weren’t sure why you were even telling him any of this. You really wanted to tell him to fuck off back to whatever backwoods hovel he came from.
But there was something about the way he was looking at you that made you want to see a little more of him. His green eyes were intoxicating, and you were certain he used that to his advantage with all of the ladies. You didn’t want to be another notch on his bedpost.
Yet, you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together as he brought the bottle to his lips. You did a quick survey of the bar to see if Brad was anywhere around, but he was engrossed in a game of pool with several other uniforms. Maybe you could have a bit of fun tonight. Just for this one time.
“What do they call you?” You asked, leaning in a little further.
“Hangman.”
Fuck. You knew that name. He worked directly with Bradley, and obviously he had no idea who you were, otherwise he wouldn’t be talking to you. If he knew he would probably be fending off the guy at the other end of the bar who wouldn’t stop eyeing you.
“Well, Hangman,” You said leaning in a little closer, “Why don’t you buy me another drink?”
He smiled slowly and waved over one of the other bar tenders, Grace you think her name was, and then there was another drink in your hand.
“So, what brings you here? Never seen you before,” Hangman asks over the music.
“My brother and I live nearby, finally convinced him to bring me along with him tonight,” You replied simply.
“Do you need your brother’s permission?” He playfully questioned.
“I think you’ll find, Hangman, that I don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
You drank the rest of your cocktail and slid off of the barstool, “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes and find out.”
And that was the first time you fucked Jake Hangman Seresin. In the bathroom of the Hard Deck, while your brother and all of his friends were just feet away. Brad never found out though. Instead he marched his way over to the piano and started playing Great Balls the second you reappeared from the bathroom. You laughed and skipped over, sliding onto the bench next to him.
Jake was a little confused, watching you cozy up to Bradley when he’d been balls deep inside of you just minutes before. He was seething when you leaned over and kissed Rooster’s cheek. He didn’t think you were one to be fast and loose with everyone. But maybe he was wrong. After all, he didn’t even know your real name.
“Who’s that with Rooster?” He asked Phoenix through gritted teeth.
“Uh, I think that’s his little sister,” She replied, “Y/N, but everyone calls her Swan.”
Fuck. Jake Hangman Seresin was fucked. Because he’d just fucked Bradshaw’s baby sister. The baby sister that he only mentioned in passing because he had a picture of her in his locker and in his plane. Jake joked one day that she had to be a hell of a girl and Rooster let it slip, as if he didn’t even realize he’d said it. Maybe he didn’t. But Jake felt like he was going to be sick.
Did you know who he was?
When the music stopped Rooster came over to the Dagger group, you following closely behind him. You had a soft smile on your face as Bradley went around the group and introduced you. But when he got to Hangman you smile turned almost innocent, so much so it made Jake hard again just looking at you. You were smiling like you didn’t have his dick in your mouth, or so deep in your pussy that you kept saying you could feel him in your stomach.
“Hangman, this is my baby sister,” Bradley grumbled, “Y/N, this is Jake. But we all call him Hangman.”
You smiled again and stuck out your hand, “Nice to meet you, you can call me Swan.”
You were both very much fucked. Because all either one of you wanted to do was grab the other and continue what you started in the bathroom. All you wanted to do was kiss him silly in front of everyone, and then drag him to his no doubt, big pickup truck, and fuck him in it. Truth be told, that’s all Jake wanted to do too.
“Nice to meet you, Swan.”
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Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.
EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.
A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.
I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.
There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.
The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.
Character analysis
As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.
However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.
L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred.
L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else.
L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right?
L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.
Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.
Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.
L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive.
L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be.
L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.
L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls.
L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home.
L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.
L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by.
L: There’s something different about the air at night.
L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.
As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.
This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.
L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire.
L: Another day, another mystery…
L: I have a lot of thinking to do.
L: I feel like doing some capoeira…
L: I haven't played tennis for a while.
L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not.
L: I, um… No, ignore me.
L: Am I reading too much into it…?
As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.
I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?
L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone.
L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally.
L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing.
L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.
He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.
As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.
L: Um, Watari is…
L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep?
L: What could Watari be up to?
L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.
I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.
Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.
Romance
Neutral stage
One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.
L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me.
L: Don’t you have stuff to do?
At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.
L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)
It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.
Growing interest
L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad.
L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh?
L: You must be a night owl, [F/N].
L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N].
L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious.
L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.
He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.
Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.
As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.
L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset?
L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked?
L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.
It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.
And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.
L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.
I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.
That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.
L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy.
L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable.
L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust.
L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day)
L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.
And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.
"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:
a) no one showed feelings towards him before.
In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large.
It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this.
This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives.
That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari).
The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him.
When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot.
It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.
b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure.
Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with.
However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's).
For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness.
To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.
Full reciprocity
L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but…
L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart.
L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve.
L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.
When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.
Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.
Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.
L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets.
L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here.
L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond.
L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets.
L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court.
L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker.
L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.
I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.
Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.
L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together.
L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you.
L: The way I am now, I… I can’t think straight when you’re not around.
L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more.
L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more…
L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.
What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.
This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.
As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:
“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”
I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.
As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.
Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.
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“Isn’t she a beaut?”
“A what?”
“Gods Nico, you never know what i’m talking about.” Leo sighed, turning his attention away from the chariot he was just boasting about.
“Maybe because you never make any sense,” Nico rolled his eyes anticipating the next comment about to leave Leo’s mouth.
“Or…you’re just an old abuelo,” Leo failed to hold back his smirk.
Nico glared at him, he didn’t speak spanish but he’d heard that word enough to know what it meant. “Call me that one more time fire boy and you’ll wish you died the first time.”
“Holy smokes! Someone’s feisty today,” Leo raised his hands signifying a truce. “Anyways, moving back to the important things, just look at this masterpiece!” Leo gestured back to his creation.
As Nico’s eyes move to scan over the chariot, he had to try not to be visibly impressed. It was incredible. Each wheel had hundreds of gears all lined with celestial bronze and steel. The sides and rims danced with various contraptions, every piece was delicately crafted with the upmost detail. It looked as if it was built to withstand whatever may come in its way.
“You built this in a week?” Nico asked, hoping his awe wasn’t evident in his tone.
“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Perfect for the race don’t you think?”
Yeah? Nico almost sang his inner praises to Leo at that moment. But he knew if he were to boast Leo’s ego like that, he wouldn’t see the end of it for days.
“It’s not bad..” Nico spoke carefully.
Leo smirked, “Finally glad you decided to be on my team?”
“I didn’t decide anything,” Nico said. “You begged me for weeks and weeks on end until I said yes, just so you would leave me alone.”
“Hm, funny. I don’t remember that happening.”
“Leo-“
“Anyways- You said you had the horses taken care of?” Leo masterfully changed the subject.
Nico nodded with a sigh.
Leo stared at him, before looking around as if he were expecting something. “Well…where are they?”
“Right, you might want to step back.” Nico suggested.
“Step back why would I-“ Leo was cut off by the ground beginning to rumble, kicking up dust and small rocks. “Right that’s why,” he hurriedly stepped backwards.
The grass shivered and after a moment of rumbling, a bone popped out from the ground. It was then followed by another and another. Soon several bones came together forming two skeletal horses. They moved similar to regular horses, if regular horses had no skin or organs.
Nico stepped back, admiring his work. In the back of his mind he imagined the future lecture he’d receive from Will. ‘What did I say about unnecessary power usage?’ Still, looking at the horses, Nico figured it was worth it.
“Woah,” Leo smiled. “That’s so much cooler than a regular horse, or even a robot one.”
“More durable too, any attack and they’ll just reassemble.”
“Dude!” Leo was now practically jumping up and down, “we are so going to win this!”
Part of Nico wanted to join Leo in the excited jumping. But the other part of him thought that would be out of character; what this ‘character’ of himself was though, he didn’t know. Nico had struggled with displaying his excitement, every time he felt that burst of joy. That buzz of happiness. It reminded him of when he was younger, first arriving at camp with that same feeling. He wondered where that little boy had gone.
A horn blew, drawing Nico out of thoughts.
“That’s Chiron,” Leo said. “Time to head to the starting line.” A devilish grin appeared on his face that made Nico a little nervous. Clearly Leo’s chariot was armed with machinery that would even make the Stoll brothers jealous.
As they stood in the chariot at the starting line, Nico rethought all his life decisions. Why had he agreed to do this race again? At the time it seemed like the only way to get Leo to leave him alone, since he had been profusely begging Nico to team up with him every day. Now Nico couldn’t decide which one was worse, and annoying Leo or a brutal chariot race. Suddenly a cold chill ran down Nicos spine, he couldn’t place it but something was wrong.
Before he could dig deeper into this feeling, Chiron blew his horn again, signaling the beginning of the race. The chariot promptly took off, immediately blasting ahead with the upmost speed. Nico had to grip the railing just to not go flying off, struggling as the winds made it hard to keep his eyes open.
The Athena chariot tried to launch a net from behind them in an attempt to catch the chariot, but it wasn’t fast enough. Instead, the net came flying back at their chariot getting caught in the wheels and sending the campers into a panic. At the same time the Stoll brothers were shooting some contraption they’d made at the Ares cabin. When resulted in both chariots veering off track and into the woods.
As they continued to speed up, Nico watched as all the other chariots got farther and farther away. He’d began to think this was going to be a lot easier than he’d initially thought.
“Works just like a dream!” Leo yelled over the winds.
Nico nodded, pointing to the floating finish line, Chiron had decided the chariots needed to not just be fast but be able to account for height too. Of course for Leo that had been an easy task. For the others, well they had to hope their pegasuses were strong
Sooner than expected they were nearing the finish line, and Nico waited for something to go wrong. He was sure the others would catch up and give them a hard time, but when he looked back the other chariots were still lagging behind.
Then a hint of smoke began to fill the air, slowly becoming stronger. Nico looked around, the chariot was shaking now. A deep rumbling that shook his whole body. More smoke started pouring out from the golden edges, polluting Nico’s lungs.
Leo looked shocked, rushing around as he tried to find the culprit of the smoke. “I don’t get what’s wrong?”
A fire sprung up and danced along the rims of the chariot, Nico stepped away, coughing as his lungs begged for clean air. He looked at Leo with panic in his eyes at the same time Leo seemed to realize that Nico wasn’t immune to smoke.
“Oh gods what do we do?” Leo called out.
Turns out Nico didn’t need to answer that question because in a blast of light the chariot exploded, sending them both flying.
The world went black.
—
Why did every creation of his blow up? That’s what Leo wondered as he plummeted from the sky. He figured he would turn into a Leo pancake when he hit the ground, splat.
The idea would’ve made him laugh if he weren’t currently falling to his death. Leo could still see the flaming chariot above him, another masterpiece blown to pieces. Maybe that would be his legacy, the demigod who destroyed everything he made.
The wind was fast as he fell, blowing through his hair and stinging his eyes. It was eerily familiar, probably because it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen from the sky. As he fell further, Leo tightly shut his eyes, expecting to hit the ground any second. But instead he felt something hit him. Well, less like hit and more like grab. When he opened his eyes, he almost jumped out of his skin.
Jason had caught him, he was now face to face with him. Startlingly close. All Leo could see were his striking icy blue eyes. He felt Jason’s arms tightly secured around his waist, and he felt the breath of relief Jason sighed when he realized Leo was safely in one piece.
Why Leo obsessed over each of these small incriminate details, he would never say.
“Thanks superman,” Leo grinned nervously. He hoped the blush across his face wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.
Jason glared at him as they began to descend to the ground. “Next time i’ll let you fall.”
Leo was about to make another comment when his heart dropped, “Nico.”
Jason’s eyes widened as he looked up at the chariot. They seemed to flicker across the sky, as he tried to locate the other chariot rider. “Oh gods.”
Splash.
Just in time Leo turned to see Nico plunge into the lake, Jason had been too far to reach him seeing as they’d somehow been blasted in two different directions.
Leo’s shirt was still smoking from the explosion and his bones felt like jelly, but it didn’t stop him from rushing to the lake as soon as they touched the ground.
Will had gotten there first, he’d always managed to get there first. He began dragging Nico from the water, a crowd of panicked demigods forming around them.
As soon as Nico was pulled to shore Leo stumbled his way over, pushing through the crowd. “Is he okay? Is he breathing? Oh gods this is all my fault.” He stuttered and tripped over his words as the guilt built up inside his stomach like rocks. He shouldn’t have made Nico join this stupid race, he should’ve known it would go wrong. Everything he did always went wrong.
“Leo, don’t say that.” Jason stepped forward putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.
Leo wanted to believe him but the guilt was overpowering it consumed his mind.
He silently watched as Will hummed placing his hand on Nico’s chest. Leo didn’t know what he’d do if Nico didn’t wake up, but luckily he did. Shooting up, coughing and spluttering, Leo recognized the look of relief that flashed across Wills face.
Jason’s hand gripped Leo’s shoulder tighter as he remembered to breathe. Suddenly his adrenaline rush crashed and so did he. His knees went weak and he would’ve fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him, again.
“You okay?” Jason asked softly. A warm tone that felt delicate and strange, yet it reassured Leo every time he heard it.
Leo nodded, looking back at Nico who was smothered in a hug from Will. He seemed to be repeatedly telling Will he was okay, despite him being dripping wet with several burnt holes in his shirt.
Nicos seemed to search the crowd until he locked eyes with Leo, he figured Nico would be incredibly pissed off at him. But he wasn’t, his eyes flashed a look of concern before he mouthed you okay?
Leo nodded as convincingly as he could, overly aware of Jason’s warm presence behind him, being the only thing holding him up.
The crowd was dispersing as Will managed to pull Nico to his feet, draping his arm across his shoulders. “Both of you,” he looked towards Leo, “infirmary. Now.”
On the way, Jason did most of the walking, as Leo’s new jelly legs hadn’t regained their sense of feeling yet. His whole body was aching by the time they’d reached the infirmary. Turns out, being exploded hurts. Shouldn’t have been surprising as he’d been exploded before.
As Leo sat on the infirmary bed his mind was spinning. He thought through every piece of bronze, every gear, wondering what had gone wrong. He had double, scratch that, triple checked to make sure everything was in tip top shape. Yet something still went wrong, seemingly out of nowhere. He replayed when the fire broke out, despite his frantic waving and patting down of the fire it didn’t extinguish. The realization hit him like a semi truck.
“Greek fire,” he said out of nowhere while Jason and Will rushed around; checking that he and Nico weren’t severely injured.
“What?” Jason said, his hand freezing in place as he picked up a bandage.
Nico inhaled sharply, looking at Leo as if he immediately understood. After hanging out for so long Nico had learned how to understand whatever thought process Leo was on, “That’s what it was, that’s why it kept burning. Why was it in the chariot?”
“I don’t know,” Leo sighed. He racked his brain for any contraptions that would lead to the emergence of greek fire. But he was sure that it wasn’t built into his chariot at all. “I never used greek fire, I don’t get how it would just erupt like that…unless…”
Jason’s eyes widened, “Do you think someone put it there on purpose?”
Leo met his eyes, he knew an accusation like this was dangerous. It meant that someone intentionally sabotaged their chariot, in a way that could only be intended to kill.
“But why would someone try to hurt you with fire?” Jason asked.
Leo felt his heartbeat stick in his throat, “Maybe I wasn’t the one they were intending to harm.”
He looked over at Nico whose face was now unreadable.
“You’re saying someone tried to kill Nico?” Will asked, his tone laced with anger.
“That or they meant to injure him severely, I guess they didn’t account for the explosion preventions I had in place.” Leo replied.
“Explosion preventions?” Jason asked, his eyebrow tilting up in the way it always did when he was confused.
“Yeah, I figured with my track record i’d add an extra layer of protection. Something that would lessen the impact of a possible explosion. That’s why we went flying away and not…well everywhere.”
“First of all, that’s impressive.” Jason spoke, “Secondly, who would intentionally try to hurt Nico?”
No one answered. None of them could fathom the idea that someone in camp would deliberately do something like this. Leo grasped at straws to find meaning, to find an excuse as to why this happened. But there was nothing. He knew Nico had never done any harm to cause this, he’d been nothing but a hero. He thought that everyone knew that, that everyone should know that. So why did this happen?
“We should talk to Chiron,” Jason said, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room.
—
Will was fuming. Almost literally. He was sure if he’d been Leo his whole body would be aflame. The idea that someone had targeted Nico in such a way, was impossible for him to swallow. His anger felt hot, it bubbled up like a volcano inside of him. He could feel it ready to erupt any second as he dug his nails into his palm.
Then a light touch pulled him from his inner turmoil. A cold hand had slipped its way between his fingers, releasing the tension. Will looked over at Nico and felt a wave of guilt, he hadn’t thought about how Nico must be feeling now.
Years ago Will had told Nico that he was welcome at camp, that no one had pushed him away. Now someone had tried to kill him.
His guilt was followed by fear. Will tightly squeezed Nico’s hand, pouring every ounce of assurance into the touch and praying in his mind that this situation wouldn’t influence Nico to run away again. Just the thought of Nico suddenly disappearing like he had years ago made his heart feel like it was being suffocated slowly. He had to remind himself Nico was okay, he was right by his side.
Explaining what had happened to Chiron was the easy part, it was Dionysus who was difficult.
“We must find this traitor at once!” Mr D. stood up slamming the table, vines began to crawl up from the floor and around the table legs.
Will had never seen him so mad. Of course, if it were anyone else he’d probably just shrug it off. But this was Nico. So Mrs D. was reasonably pissed.
“We have to handle this carefully,” Chiron said; his eyes were filled with a deep sense of sadness and disappointment. He too couldn’t imagine why someone had done this.
“Carefully?” Mr. D asked, his eyes glowed with a dangerous hue of purple. “I say we round everybody up and unrelentlessly interrogate them until the rat comes out.”
“We cannot tortue innocent campers in hopes of finding the culprit,” Chiron calmly explained.
“We can’t. I can.”
“Then you would be punished by several angry gods.”
Mr D. had no response this time, sighing as he sat back down. The vines following suite as they shrank back into the floorboards.
“I don’t understand who would’ve done this, and why now?” Jason said, his eyes seemed to be clouded in worries.
“Leo, is there anyway this could’ve been a prank taken too far?” Chiron asked, there was a sort of desperation in his eyes.
“I really wish it was, but there’s no way they couldn’t of known about the precautions. I added the explosion barrier last second. The greek fire must’ve been somewhere near the engine, whoever put it there wanted the chariot to catch fire and explode. Midair,” Leos voice was somber, he leaned listlessly on his elbows which set on the table.
Jason watched Leo carefully, his face seemed to analyze Leo’s every movement, every word. Will recognized his attentiveness.
Chiron sighed, “We will investigate this. Perhaps there is someone, something, whispering things to the demigods again.”
“We can talk to Clovis,” Will added. “If it’s something to do with dreams or visions he might be able to help.”
Chiron nodded, “Just be careful. I don’t know how whoever did this will react if they catch on that we are suspicious.”
Will nodded, he couldn’t help but notice how silent Nico had been. He seemed to be lost in thought. Will wish he could crawl into his brain and disintegrate all the negative thoughts.
It appeared Mr D. was also concerned, his face flashed with worry as he looked over at Nico.
“We’ll talk to Clovis tomorrow,” Will made the executive decision. “You two need rest.”
Jason agreed, not allowing Leo to protest by quickly grabbing him and dragging him out the door way. “Let’s go hotshot.”
It was dark, a cold breeze blowing through camp as Will and Nico walked; a blanket of silence lay between them. Nico seemed to be trapped inside his mind again, his eyes dancing with unspoken worries.
“You okay?” Will asked as softly as possible, reaching out to touch Nico’s shoulder.
Nico nodded, “I guess.”
Will frowned, “You guess?” He expected Nico to lie and hit him with a ‘I’m fine’ like he normally did.
“I’m not sure what to think to be honest.” Nico replied, he began chewing on his bottom lip; a nervous habit Will had taken note of several times.
“Yeah...” Wills voice was quiet, his racked his mind for the perfect thing to say, but came back with nothing.
The two of them kept walking as Nico slightly leaned into Wills touch, despite his uncertainty he still sought comfort.
“I’ll stay in your cabin tonight,” Will paused, “to protect you.”
Nico face spread into a smile, a smile that punched Will right in his stomach. He felt a sense of relief to see him smile, “Yeah i’m sure that’s the reason.”
“What?” Will raised his hands in false defense, “It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.”
“Uh huh, super convincing.” Nico’s voice was coated with sarcasm, which was a stark contrast to the smile that danced across his face.
“It’s an excuse that would hold up in court, you know i’m not a lawyer but I know these things-“
Nico cut him off by grabbing his hand, “Come on sunshine.” He tugged Will lightly towards his cabin, it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone. That’s not to say Will didn’t want to stay with him on his own accord, obviously it was a little bit for himself. But mostly for Nico, mostly.
—
“Gods Leo use your legs.”
“I can’t they feel like jello, my arms too, and my-my everything!” Leo whined as he let himself be dragged along by Jason.
“You sure you didn’t hit your head in the explosion too?” Jason feigned annoyance. He was intentionally bantering with Leo, trying to boost the mood. Anything that could distract him from the fact of a potential murderer in camp was good, and Leo was really good at distracting.
“I think the explosion hit everything,” Leo stumbled. Jason quickly caught him, snaking his hand around Leo’s waist. He hoped Leo couldn’t hear his heartbeat which was pounding so loudly in his ears.
“You’re clearly incapable of walking,” Jason sighed. He figured he was getting quite good at acting as he almost believed his own false annoyance. “Just let me carry you or at this rate we’re going to be eaten by harpy’s.”
Leo smirked, “If you insist.”
Leo was a light weight against Jason’s back as he locked his arms around Leo’s legs; and when Jason walked, Leo’s arms dangled from around his shoulders. Then with a sigh he rested his chin on the top of Jason’s head.
“Dang the weather is pretty nice up here,” Leo said, his hands absently drumming against Jason’s shirt.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Jason replied, earning a small thump against his chest.
Leo paused as he noticed where Jason was headed, “Correct me if i’m wrong, but this does not look like the way to my cabin.”
“Well..” Jason almost panicked looking for any excuse, “I figure you need to be watched over. You know, with your jello legs and brain.”
“Aww,” Leo teased, “are you scared?”
Jason tried to bite back a smile when his lame excuse succeeded. “Yes, terrified.”
“Don’t worry Jace, I’ll protect you from the big bad scary Zeus statue.” Leo giggled as he tightened his arms around Jason.
Jason smiled, he didn’t say the real reason he’d wanted Leo to stay with him. He didn’t say it was because he worried about his safety, that he didn’t want him beating himself up with guilt. Or that he’d seen Will sneak into the Hades cabin and felt a sense of envy.
Jason contentedly carried Leo on his back into the cabin; and as they entered Leo seemed to shrink against Jason whispering, “He’s looking at me,” before bursting into giggles.
“Now you know how I feel every night,” Jason complained. He walked over to his bed, where he’d recently gotten a divider; placing it so that his view of the statue was obscured. When he reached the bed he turned and promptly dropped Leo onto his bed.
“Ouch,” Leo said, sprawling out on the bed with his eyes closed and tongue stuck out as if he were emulating roadkill.
“Looks like jello boy died, what a shame.”
Leo opened one of his eyes and when he saw Jason was still staring at him he closed it again; a grin began spreading across his face, though he’d tried to hold back.
“You leave me no choice,” Jason rubbed his hands together, creating a harmless amount of static electricity. “Clear!” He called out thrusting his hands towards Leo.
A small shock was produced and Leo sprung up falling onto the floor with a yelp, pieces of his curly hair stuck up in the static.
Jason burst into laughter, almost doubling over as his whole body shook.
“What the hades man,” Leo looked up at him with wide eyes.
“I resurrected you,” Jason said between giggles. He’d laughed so hard his eyes began to water.
Leo stood up, patting down his hair. “Okay, i’ve been resurrected before and it did not feel like that.”
Jason shrugged, “What can I say? I’m too good.”
Leo shoved him lightly, pretending to be mad although he was still smiling. “Whatever, because of that you’re sharing the bed.”
“Fine.” Jason pretended it was an inconvenience. In reality he was desperate to be near Leo, to be by his side in any way possible. As close as possible. Leo emanated this warmth in a way Jason had become addicted to. It was a warmth that filled his bones and soul completely and fully.
So when Leo curled up next to him, it took all of Jason’s willpower not to wrap his arms around him and bask in the warmth. Just being beside him had to be enough, yet still he yearned for the full closeness.
Soon he heard the soft breathing from Leo next to him, the moonlight from the window filtering in and sparkling my across his face. His eyelashes look so delicate in the light and the splash of freckles across his face started to resemble a constellation. Jason almost hoped that the moment would last forever; that tomorrow wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to face the harsh truth that someone in camp had tried to hurt his friends. He didn’t want to leave Leo’s side. Not again. The fear of losing him was always so strong because he’d lost him before, they’d both lost each other. Now they were together again and Jason prayed that they could stay that way.
But he doubted anyone was listening to that prayer.
(Part Two)
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