#I’m gonna go write out the answers to all these damn questions in my notes app they’re so good thank u op
Text
bad idea right? – ln4
masterlist
Summary: The one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?
Pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: mentions of breakups and also fighting, cursing, kind of a toxic relationship?, allusion to smut, it's criminal how long it took me to finish this fic
Request: this wasn’t requested, but the idea is veeery loosely from this tiktok right here! (i might def write the scenario in the tiktok in the future though)
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it has officially been a month since i started my master's programme and i have to say it is absolutely kicking my ass, but thank you all for bearing with me while i adjust! this song has been stuck in my head for the last two-three (?) months and i really wanted to write a fic based on it. i also wanted to say that i've received all of your guys' requests, and i'm working on those, but it's harder for me to get out a request than a fic that just popped in my head because i tend to be more of a perfectionist with those - so, those are definitely on the way, don't worry! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
It’s not that you don’t like spending time with your brother and his girlfriend – because you do, but considering the fact that spending a mere hour with them causes you to suddenly question your life choices (of being single), you are very eager to leave them alone for the night. Which brings us to the current situation, with you standing in front of your brother’s apartment complex in one of the hoodies you stole from the sample boxes, waiting for someone you should’ve never hit up in the first place. It was probably not your brightest idea to message Lando to ask him if he wants to go for a ride, especially because a) the last time you saw him a year ago the two of you were yelling and throwing things at each other and b) you’re definitely buzzed from the bottle of wine you hogged upstairs. But you know what they say; absence makes the heart go fonder, right?
So there you are with your phone in your hand, texting Lily in hopes of getting the tiniest bit of reassurance about your decision.
To lily m: i texted lando
To lily m: he’s gonna pick me up
From lily m: WHAT? NO
To lily m: seeing him tonight
To lily m: it’s a bad idea, right?
From lily m: YES
From lily m: DO NOT GET INTO THAT CAR
To lily m: yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?
Fuck it, it’s fine, you decide as you quickly delete the last two messages. With a soft sigh, you wrap your arms around yourself to shield yourself from the cold air of the night. And while you could just wait for Lando inside the apartment building, you really don’t want to attract more attention to yourself. You can feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the minutes pass by, and you even contemplate cancelling the whole thing and going upstairs to sleep. Just as you’re about to give up on the whole thing, a car honk grabs your attention. When turn to look at the source of the sound, you see Lando’s unamused face through the open window.
He motions you to get in with his head, his voice as equally detached as he calls out, “Get in.”
Rolling your eyes at his behaviour, you do as your told. But you tell yourself that it’s not because he told you to, but because you’re cold. And so you get in the car making sure you slam the door as hard as you can, which makes him scowl as a small smile forms on your lips. “You know, you could really try on being more polite.”
“I’m picking you up in the middle of the night,” he points out as he puts the car on drive and starts driving off, “and put your damn seatbelt on.”
You give him a sideway glance as you put on your seatbelt, letting out a sigh, “Are you okay? I’m sensing some serious undertone.”
Lando doesn’t answer you, mainly because he is smarter than he looks and he knows you’re trying to goad him into another fight. That’s what the two of you had always done, not that he hated you or vice versa, but the two of you mainly got along in fights which ended up in both of you twisted between the sheets of the whatever hotel you were currently staying in. And it had worked for a while, until of course it didn’t, and Lando was mature enough to admit that he had a huge role in fucking up your relationship.
“You changed your car,” you point out.
“Thought you’d appreciate a roof over your head this time,” he replies.
The car is silent as Lando drives down the now empty streets of Monte Carlo, and you find yourself involuntarily checking out his side profile because well, he always looked so good while driving. You suppose it’s only one of the things that didn’t change with time.
“So,” his voice draws you out from your thoughts, “why’d you call me tonight? Are you drunk?”
“I am not drunk,” you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest, “if you don’t feel like being here Lando, I can just get off and go home.”
“Now I didn’t say that, I simply asked a question.” He steals another glance at you, but this time a little smirk forms on his lips when your eyes meet and he sees your scowl. “It was a harmless question, really.”
Your voice comes off as clipped as you answer, “I’m not drunk.”
“Your cheeks are red,” Lando points out but the playfulness from mere seconds ago is gone, in fact, he’s more serious than you’ve probably ever seen him, “you either had wine or your rosacea is acting up.”
It takes a moment for you to take in his words, and there is no humour in his voice or on his face when you look at him to see whether he’s joking or not. “I had some wine,” you confess, voice much lower than before as you add, “but I’m not drunk.” One of his eyebrows rise up, and you find yourself mumbling, “Fine maybe a little bit, but not a lot.”
His jaw ticks as he mumbles, “Okay, whatever you say.” And as you try to assess whether his voice is cold or not, you see his hands tightening around the steering wheel.
“What?” You ask, a bit quicker than necessary (in your opinion), “What did I say?”
Now it’s his turn for his voice to be clipped, and his eyebrows furrow as he asks, “Did you only call me because you’re drunk?”
“No,” your reply is truthful to some extent, you suppose, you would’ve texted him even if you had no alcohol in your system. “I wanted to see you.”
He lets out a hum, “Why?”
It’s a hard question, and you contemplate not being a hundred percent honest – but deep down you know he deserves better, even if you had your differences. So, to reveal the truth, you turn your face away from him to look outside the window, “I missed you.”
He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t turn to see what his reaction will be. Everything is peaceful for a moment.
He takes you to a hill, the very one he took you for your first date. Though, it doesn’t carry the same excitement this time around. The two of you remain in the car with the windows rolled down, but the colder air doesn’t make you chilly. It’s silent, but it’s not an uncomfortable one. Neither of you make the first move to start a conversation, and you don’t know if that’s because you’re both obstinate or he doesn’t want to be there. Though, you suspect he would’ve told you ‘no’ if he didn’t want to be there – not that he could ever tell you ‘no’.
It's unnaturally hard, you realise, not looking at him on purpose when he’s seated so close to you. Especially because you haven’t seen him in months. Not that you’d confess that to him, or let yourself have another weak moment where you say you missed him. Because you can’t. Because it’s not the way the two of you operate. Because he broke your heart but you’re not strong enough to let him go. With that last thought, you take a sharp breath, undo your seatbelt and get out of the car. You lean against the hood of the car and he soon follows suit. But where your hands are splayed behind your back, his arms are crossed over his chest.
“You’ve not been sleeping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Because he is not dumb (or blind enough) to let the circles under your eyes slide.
And it’s a statement that might be true. You only give him half of a shrug, “So?”
“It means that something is bothering you.” You’re about to object, but he quickly shuts you down, “I once drove you around for four hours so you could sleep in my car, honey,” his fingers move to gently turn your chin towards him so he can look into your eyes, “and that was because you forgot to bring me back junk food from Australia.”
Even if you’re taken aback by his physical touch, you don’t show it as you stubbornly maintain your eye contact. “It’s the jet lag, I haven’t travelled in a while.” You gulp down a breath as you gently push his hand away, “And don’t call me that.”
“Why?” He turns his body to face you, “You’re just as sweet, aren’t you?”
“Lando,” you warn him, “don’t.”
He raises a brow, “Why not?”
“Because we’re friends,” your response comes off in an instant, “I only see you as a friend.” The biggest lie you’ve ever said.
“Friends,” he repeats, tests out the word, then shrugs, “sure. Now tell me what happened tonight that made you call me. Did you and Daniel fight?”
“What?” an involuntary laugh leaves your lips, and you catch the corner of his lips turning upwards just the smallest bit. “No, we didn’t, it’s not about Daniel. Can we just not talk about it, please?”
He gives you a firm nod, and you catch his grimace as he turns his attention back to the view in front of you. “You can tell me, you know,” he mumbles, “you used to.”
He’s right, you realise. You used to tell him all the little thought that popped into your head, whether it was nice or not, and he’d accommodated your thoughts. It was easier to talk to him, once upon a time, and you’re not really sure why it hurts so much right now that you can’t.
“Why do you care?” The question comes out quickly, and your voice is not as strong as you’d like it to be. “After everything, why do you care?”
“We’re friends, right?” The words tastes unbelievably sour in his mouth, and he has to restrain himself from making any sort of face, but it seems harder than it actually is for him to do and he questions whether it is worth it to
“Friends,” this time it’s your turn to test out the word, and it tastes as bitter as they come, “sure, can we ride around a bit more?”
“Fine,” he gives you a nod and motions you to get in the car, “but I have to get gas first.”
The fluorescent lighting of the gas station is definitely not the most flattering thing. So much so that you’re sure the unflattering light outside is exaggerating the bags under your eyes. But that situation of course doesn’t apply to Lando because even under the harsh lighting, he looks too pretty. And compared to earlier in the night, you don’t try to hide the way your eyes focus on him while he’s driving, though you hope you do a much better job at hiding the thoughts that come to your mind. Even after he’s parked the car in the nearest pump, you find yourself staring at his side profile a bit too long, which earns you a sideway smirk and you try your hardest not to react, but the smile you keep trying to fight is too strong and eventually you find yourself with the tiniest smile playing on your lips.
Lando turns towards you, meets your eyes and leans over the console, “Do you want anything from the shop?”
You blink once, trying to come up with anything, twice, then “Can you get me those gummy bears that I like?”
He gives you another nod, reaches into his pocket and then hand you his phone. Ignoring your questioning stare, he explains, “So that you can play music or something, the password is still the same.” Before he gets out of the car, he does the unexpected and leans in just a little bit more to press a feather-light kiss to your temple.
You watch him get out of the car and walk away from you with your mouth slightly hanging open. You contemplate trying to unlock the phone, because why would he tell you that his password is the same? And why would he trust you with his phone when the two of you have been broken up for over a year? With shaky hands, your fingers put in the password, calling Lando’s bluff. Oh shit, you think when the phone unlocks, now what? Throwing the phone out of your hands onto the driver seat, you grab your own and quickly type a new message to Kika, who of course got the news from Lily and has been blowing up your phone, while ignoring her dozen other messages who went unread in your text thread.
To kika: this was a bad idea kika
Tokika: a very *very* bad idea
From kika: please tell me you’re going home
To kika: um…
To kika: sure
From kika: GET OUT OF THAT CAR AND GET YOUR ASS HOME
From kika: NOW!!
Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes linger on the messages spamming your phone, and you contemplate just getting out of the car and trying to find your way back home. But you also can’t help yourself but think… what’s the worst that could happen if you stayed? Clicking the button on the side of your phone, you place it face down on your lap after making sure you silence it for the rest of the night. With the reminder of the abandoned phone on the seat next to yours, you open your window to let some of the night air in. As your phone keeps buzzing on your lap, your eyes focus on the figure that comes out of the convenience store – and by some grace of God, he doesn’t realise the way your eyes basically undress him as he approaches his McLaren.
There’s no smile on his face, in fact, if you didn’t know Lando, you’d say he looks like an asshole; not that he occasionally doesn’t act like one. He gives you that boyish smirk when he’s next to your window, signalling you to roll it down by tapping on it twice. Lando leans against the car, his eyes locked onto yours. “Got your gummy bears,” he says, holding up the package and handing it to you once you roll it down. “It was the last one too, you’re lucky.”
Giving a tight lipped smile to the man looking expectantly at you, you accept the packet of gummy bears. “Thank you, Lando,” the softening look in his eyes is, ironically, strong enough for you to choke on the next words that are on the tip of your tongue. “I–”
“I’m sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?” A third voice interrupts you, and you find yourself moving your gaze from Lando to the woman who’s excitedly waiting for a response.
“Yes,” he breathes out, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice polite but he���s also very annoyed at the same time – though the way he eyes up the stranger definitely makes your blood boil.
With his attention on the woman, you find yourself feel the tension in the air and quickly look down at the packet of gummy bears in your hands. You start absentmindedly picking at the wrapper, your mind racing with a mixture of emotions. As the conversation between Lando and the fan continues, you steal glances at them from the corner of your eye. She's gushing about a recent race, talking animatedly about the thrilling moments she witnessed. Lando, for his part, is gracious and engaged, taking the time to listen and respond. And despite the polite exchange, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. It's a reminder of the world he's a part of, a world where fans approach him with admiration and excitement. A world you used to share, but now only observe from the sidelines.
You watch the woman place her hand on Lando’s bicep, laughing at a (rather mediocre) joke he made about the understeer of the car. It’s not a funny joke by any means, and you are not scared to admit that the woman’s laugh that fills your ears makes your insides twist uncomfortably. You remind yourself that you're here by choice. You could have left at any moment. But there's something about this night, about being with Lando again, that you can't quite let go of. It's a confusing mix of nostalgia and longing, wrapped in a blanket of uncertainty.
The woman’s voice hits your ears as you hear her ask, “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Without letting them both know that you’re actively listening into their conversation, you attempt to subtly let out a warning cough, but Lando covertly smirks as he leans towards the car with his hand grabbing the lowered window – without caring about the possible finger prints he might leave behind, might you add. Without any hesitation, you let your fingers go of the packaging to thread your fingers with his.
While his thumb gently starts to draw circles on the knuckle of your thumb, he does his best to supress the chuckle building up in his throat. “That’s, um, very kind – but I’m with my girl, you see, and we are both pretty tired.”
Maybe you would’ve given her a friendly smile over a misunderstanding if you were in a better mood, but as the woman looks at you with wild eyes, all you can offer her is an annoyed pout, and soon after she leaves after apologising to you both for interrupting your plans. You watch her leave until there is a good enough distance for her to not hear you, and then turn to Lando and give him a glare as you hiss, “I am not ‘your girl’.”
He finally lets out the chuckle he’s been holding as he watches you letting go of his hand with an exaggerated push, and then diverts his amused eyes towards you, “Sure, whatever you say, jealous girl.”
“I am not– I wasn’t jealous!” you exclaim, eyes narrowed. When he starts walking towards the driver’s side, you can’t help but call out, “I’m not jealous!”
Lando is still chuckling to himself when he gets in the car, and even as he starts driving, completely ignoring your whining complaints. “That’s alright, honey,” he says, voice full of condescension, “it was very cute.”
“You are an ass.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms across your chest. “Maybe I should’ve gotten off when I had the chance, that way you could’ve fucked her in the back seat.”
“Bold of you assume she’s the one I’d want to fuck in my back seat,” he raises an eyebrow, then shrugs “but sure.”
Your face scrunches up in disgust, “You’re, ugh, you’re just the worst, Lando.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you add, “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you over you fucking girls in your car.”
Lando manages to get out a disapproving tut, and then contends, “I never said I’d fuck girls in my car, I’d said I’d rather fuck you in my car.”
Completely baffled by this revelation, not that you should’ve been, you turn to him in disgust, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He shrugs again, noncommittally, and without paying you any mind continues to focus on the road.
“Well,” you laugh, breathlessly, “good thing that’s never happening.” Gently clearing your throat, you later can’t help yourself but add a silent, “Again.”
“If you’d rather a bed, that could also be arranged, honey.” Lando assures you, and you realise the little fucker has a smirk growing on his face.
“As if I’d sleep with you willingly,” you scoff.
A boisterous laugh is what you get from Lando, who tilts his head towards you, “Come on, I’m a good-looking bloke.”
“And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter man,” you sing, but you just can’t remember when. So deciding to block out what Lando is rambling about, you pull out your phone to message someone who has the answer for you.
To lily m + kika: can you tell me someone who is hotter than lando?
From lily m: alex
From kika: pierre
To lily m + kika: ew, be serious please
From kika: what about the guy with the accent, from hungary?
From lily m: the doctor?
To lily m + kika: i think she meant the reporter
From lily m: god no he was a creep
From lily m: what about the surfer?
From kika: oh yeah he was cute too
To lily m + kika: i need someone hot, pleaseee
From lily m: THE MODEL FROM MILAN
From kika: WITH THE ABS
From kika: and also porche
From lily m: BUT ALSO THE ABS
To lily m + kika: okay thanks
To lily m + kika: love you guys
Getting lost in the conversation, with the aid of your ambition to prove yourself right and, naturally, Lando wrong, you don’t realise that he’s actually driven you back to his apartment instead of a bar or literally some other place that sells alcohol in that ungodly hour.
“This isn’t a bar.” You point out, eyebrows furrowed.
Lando dignifies your comment with a scoff, “Well aren’t you quite the detective?”
Crossing your arms across your chest, you basically hiss at him this time, “This is basically kidnapping.”
Lando glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “Kidnapping? Really? I thought we were just catching up.”
You shoot him a sarcastic look, but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Yeah, sure. Catching up in the middle of the night at your place.”
He parks the car and turns to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Well, here’s my proposal. I’ll go to my apartment and you’re free to either join me or drive my car back to Daniel’s – I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.”
You hesitate for a moment, considering your options as you watch Lando give you an assuring smile and handing you the keys before getting out of the car. Going back to your brother's place doesn't sound all that appealing, and Lando's offer, as questionable and a bad idea as it may be, seems like the lesser of two evils. Though, there is also the reality that if when you go up to his apartment, you’re probably going to do something that either you or your friends will regret tomorrow morning. Watching Lando’s retreating figure move further into the apartment building, you think, fuck it, it’s fine.
So, you wait for a few minutes, anxiously twirling the car keys in your hand to make him wait – but you’re pretty sure it makes you suffer just as much. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then climb out of the car. Locking it behind you, you follow Lando into the building. The familiar scent of his cologne hits you as you step into the elevator, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. The elevator ride going up to the second floor is pure torture, and it leaves you squirming in your place the whole time. Basically throwing yourself out of the elevator once it lands on the second floor, you realise that Lando has been waiting for you, standing and smiling at his door.
He gives you a teasing look as you approach, clearly amused by your slightly dishevelled state. “Took you long enough,” he remarks, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. But instead of saying anything or retorting back, you quietly follow him inside his apartment. Lando closes the door behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The dim lighting casts a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. The first thing that catches your eye is the helmet collection he keeps in the living room. Without saying anything, you quickly make your way over to the shelves that display the helmets, trying your best to avoid his approaching footsteps behind you. The familiar design of a particular helmet has you instinctively tracing the number at the top, and the arms that hug your waist from behind makes you freeze for a moment. Lando's touch is both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions you thought were long buried.
“That's from Monza, 2021,” he says, his voice close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.
You clear your throat, attempting to regain composure. “I remember,” you reply, your fingers still lingering on the helmet.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present hangs in the air. Lando breaks the silence, his voice low and measured. “I wasn't sure you'd actually come up.”
You turn to face him, meeting his gaze, but don’t attempt getting out of his arms. “I didn't think so either.”
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours. It's a tentative touch, a testing of waters, and you find yourself responding to the familiarity of the kiss. The taste of the past lingers, and for a moment, it's as if the years haven't passed. But reality crashes back in, and you pull away, the distance now a necessary boundary. Lando looks at you, a mix of emotions playing on his face. There's longing, regret, and an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexities that bind you.
“I thought we could just catch up,” he says, his tone a mix of apology and yearning.
You turn in your place, facing him. “Catching up was never our strong suit, was it?”
“Not really,” Lando shakes his head, “no.”
You bite down on the corner of your lip, threading your fingers through his curls as you pull his face down to meet yours as you rise on your tiptoes, “It’s a bad idea, right?”
Lando lets out a supportive hum as he lets his lips softly brush against yours, “The worst.” And maybe he should have been the gentleman and pull away, but when he sees your eyes closing, he just leans in further to press his lips against yours – and the way you respond to his kiss? It's as if the world outside ceases to exist. The kiss deepens, each brush of his lips against yours reigniting a long-buried flame. Lando's hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, erasing the physical space between you.
You don’t complain as he pulls you towards his bedroom, or when he gently throws you on his bed, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. As he hovers over you, the weight of the past and the intensity of the present converge. His hands trace the contours of your face, memorizing every curve as if committing it to memory. And when the two of you get lost between each other within his sheets, the only thing that ends up coming from your mouth is either his name, or some sort of encouragement to keep him going. After he manages to wear you out, Lando decides that you’re definitely not going anywhere as he wraps you in his arms around you. The room is filled with the soft sounds of breaths syncing, hearts beating in tandem. Lando's fingers draw absent patterns on your skin while you check the messages that have accumulated in your phone. The glow of your phone illuminates the dim room, creating a subtle contrast to the warmth that envelops you. Lando's presence beside you adds an extra layer of comfort, a silent acknowledgment of the shared intimacy that unfolded moments ago.
From danny: please tell me you didn’t get kidnapped by the organ mafia
From danny: wink twice if you’re alive
From danny: this is not funny, where are you?
From danny: fine i’ll ask alex to ask lily
Rolling your eyes before sending him a text to let your brother know you’re okay, you decide to turn your attention to the group chat with Lily and Kika.
From kika: did you get home safe?
From lily m: daniel is pretty stressed about it
From lily m: please for the love of god tell us you’re home and not with lando right now
To lily m + kika: omg just calm down i’m in bed
To lily m + kika: and i’m going to sleep
To lily m + kika: love you guys
You catch a glimpse of Lando’s grin over your shoulder as you click your phone off, but he only chuckles as he buries his face into your neck as he leaves small kisses to the skin there. “Well, I’m not lying, I just didn’t specify where I was.”
“Or in whose sheets,” his laugher gets louder as you jokingly slap him on the arm, “go to sleep, honey, we’ll be tired in the morning.”
And it might’ve been a bad idea to message him in the first place, but it certainly doesn’t feel like one.
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#lando norris smut#lando norris fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
hi jaebae :> (kill me) wait that's not my req WAHAHAHHAHAHA ok
so what if a fic of you and miles passing notes to each other in class, and miles just keeps trying to rizz you up but it's not working (it's actually quite pathetic in your opinion) so he just straight up asks you, forgetting the fact you two were in class, "damn man how can i get you to say yes to go out with me?"
the whole class stares. and he's a deer in headlights. and you're laughing, and in love, and considering a date with him :>>>
rizzless notes ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
pairing: earth 1610 miles morales x fem!reader
summary: miles trying to rizz you up during math class
authors notes: i assumed 1610 miles as he as broken rizz (no offense i love him) and also i feel like 42 would have hella rizz. anyway this wasn’t my best writing but i hope you enjoy it!! ty for the request <3 this was also a little short so i’m sorry 🙁
the girl sat in class, next to one of her classmates she was kinda friends with. meaning they would talk at times but never hung out he was cute n all but way out of her league
she let out a small huff as she stared at the clock tapping her foot awaiting the moment the bell would ring, the silence broke as she heard a crumble of a paper pass over to her.
the girl turned her head over to see a paper crumpled up next to her. she looked around quickly to assure no teacher was looking, snatched the paper and read the note.
the note revealing: “hii do u have the question for number 8?” the note read with an ending part saying “—miles” so it was from miles.
the girl sighed realizing she hasn’t even started on the paper that was given approximately 10 minutes ago, the girl picked her pencils up before writing back. “no but i’ll figure it out”
she handed the note back to miles, occasional crumple were heard as some students turned around to discover the noise was from miles.
she got thrown back the note and opened it discovering neat handwriting saying: “oh okay, you doing anything tonight?” the girl giggled a little causing a domino effect of students to glance at her.
the girl silenced herself as she realized she was being watched and quickly wrote back: “do you want the answer or not” in messy ish handwriting.
handing back the paper earned a chuckle from the boy next to her. “sorry :( and please” he wrote back before passing it back.
the classroom was silent as they watched the two pass notes back and forth, not bothering to snitch as this was a cute moment.
“it’s 60 ♡” she wrote back, smiling a little at her final touch of the heart, you know why not? she didn’t like him? she just didn’t it for fun? right?
the boy was FLUSHED when he saw just the heart, everyone in the class knew he was head over heels for the girl he sat next to. except the girl. she was clueless to say the least.
the nervous boy wrote back, “thank you i owe you. how about a movie tomorrow movie?” he said trying again for atleast a hangout or even a date.
it felt like lover by taylor swift was playing dimly behind this moment, everyone was staring even the teacher was kinda listening.
the girl hummed at the note writing back sloppily, “nu uh” she wrote quickly sliding it back like she didn’t even interact with him.
she heard a series of groaning and sighing before being slid back a paper saying, “damn ma, how many times am i gonna have to ask you out?” he wrote putting a ;) at the end to be cocky you know?
the girl opened the paper back up and giggled a little smiling also. “alright fine we can go see a movie :))” she wrote back, blush hinting at her cheeks as she passed the note back nervously waiting on a response.
a quiet “yes” was heard next to her. success. he wrote back “okay here’s my number and we can talk about it from there?” he wrote putting his number next to the sentence.
the class was relieved something happened, they couldn’t go another day with Miles gawking over his table mate.
idk how to end it so end 😫
please do not steal or repost on another platform. reblogs are appreciated
taglist: @zalayni @fictarian @jrrantss @luvstarrstruck @laylasbunbunny
#miles morales x reader#across the spiderverse#miles morales#miles morales appreciation#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x you#earth 1610 miles fluff#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#earth 1610 miles x reader#earth 1610 miles angst#into the spiderverse
729 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bruises // Jake Seresin
Chapter Seven: [War Wounds in the Ward]
Summary: When help finally arrives, Jake believes it may be too late. The extent of both your injuries are finally revealed and the both you come face to face with the reality of just how long you’d been held in captivity for.
Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.
Word Count: 7.4k
Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“We gotta move.” How this guy got the key to Jake’s cell he’d never know, but what was important was that he had it and he was here now. “We’ve got about ten minutes to get you both out to the medi-vac.”
You never would have guessed how quickly Jake Seresin could still move in order to put his body on the line for you. At the sight of someone coming into his cell yet again, rescuer or not—he was shielding you with everything he had. No one was touching you, not again.
Once the man was inside Jake's cell he took a knee to assess your current state. At the mere thought of anyone touching you Jake flinched and held you a little tighter. He wasn’t sure who he could trust, wasn’t sure if this was real or just some cruel joke. Another attempt to shatter any kind of hope.
“It’s okay Lieutenant, you can let her go.”
“I don’t trust you.” Jake used his body to shield you as much as he could. He was done letting people hurt you, including himself. The man in the dark mask paused, but then in order to gain Jake's trust, he took that mask off, revealing his identity to Jake as he tried to reach out to gauge your pulse. “Please don’t hurt her, she’s been through enough.”
“I’m not gonna hurt her Jacob.” The man with silver hair and a cocky half smile confirmed. “My name is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS, I’m gonna get the two of you out of here.”
“Who was the woman, the one who gave me the note?” Jake couldn’t stop thinking about her and her lifeless body. Who was she? How did she get a note from Rooster? How did she know help was coming? There were so many unanswered questions he thought he’d never get answers to.
“CIA—deep cover agent, she had sent out a coded message around the time the two of you went missing. Descriptions matched, your friend Rooster I believe?” Gibbs was still trying to find your pulse. “Yeah he told her to write a note out, give you something to fight for.”
“Hold tight, Stay alive—“ Jake repeated to himself just under his breath, the agent who wasn’t happy with how weak your pulse was nodded too.
“Which is exactly what she’s gonna have to do, let’s get her out of here before it’s too late.”
“Gibbs!” Another man came racing down the hallway. “Gibbs we gotta move!” He was dressed in the same dark uniform as Gibbs was. “They’re angry as shit, like ants! A hive of angry ants.”
“I thought I told you to distract and disturb?”
“Yeah well, change of plans—we gotta get the hell outta dodge, now!”
Jake wasn’t all that sure who to follow or what to think. He only knew two things for sure, one being he had to get you out of here while he still had a chance too. And two? He couldn’t run. He couldn’t come with you. He was damaged goods.
“I can’t go.” Jake confessed with a deep sigh as he handed you over to the man who’s just come racing in. He ran his finger down your cheek and tried to hold it together. Was this the last time he was ever going to see you? “She’s in a really bad way, please take care of her, get her out of here.”
“Lieutenant it’s now or never—“ Gibbs made sure to remind Jake.
“They put a pacemaker inside my damn chest alright! I can’t let my heart rate get above one forty!” Jake explained as the older man helped him to his feet. “The Commander has a remote control for it too, and I gotta be honest with you, I’m not all that keen on the idea of my heart exploding inside my fucking chest.”
“The Commanders dead.” Gibbs tried his best to bluff his way through this. He had to get Jake out of here, there was no backup plan. It was now or never and never wasn’t an option. “He’s gone, ain’t got no way to press that button.” DiNozzo knew as a matter of fact that Dennis Gervais was well and truly alive, because he’d just come from the same room that he was in. “So we focus on keeping your heart rate down and get you out of here.” All Jake did was nod as he looked at you just barely breathing, barely holding on for dear life. You’d been through so much—he owed you this much, to try till his dying breath to get you out of this hell. “DiNozzo you take Y/n, I’ll guard Jake here and we’ll get ‘em on the medi-vac before shit gets too out of hand.”
“On it boss.” Tony acknowledged the plan and knew the risks involved as he bent down to pick you up and pull your nearly lifeless body across his shoulders so that he could carry you. “Okay ma’am, sorry if this hurts a little.”
“We’re heading down the hall, taking the first left and making a run for the stairs that leads up to the ground floor—it’ll take us right out to the loading bay.” Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Gibbs knew it was going to be a hard pill to swallow as the group started to make their way out of the cell.
“You mean to tell me there’s been an exit door right down the hall this whole time!!” It made him sick to his stomach. Freeform was right there all along. It made things so much worse knowing it was right there.
“We’re gonna get you home Lieutenant, just keep in step and don’t look back.” Gibbs commanded as he made sure his weapon was loaded. “Let’s get these two out of here DiNozzo.”
Jake watched as DiNozzo took off running with you slung across his shoulders. His heart ached on two fronts, one being he knew you were about to be safe, about to be away from all this. The other being he hated whenever you were away from him. When you were with him you were safe in his arms. Apart? He couldn’t help you.
There were guards slain in the hall from where gunfire had recently rung out, Jake tried his best not to get too caught up but he couldn’t recognise a single soul. None of them he knew from his time trapped. They were just foot soldiers.
“Take a left DiNozzo!” Anthony corrected his direction promptly as Jake followed, he was being careful to pace himself. He didn’t want the beeping to start, not now. It couldn’t, he was relying on everything he had left inside him to keep it down. To breathe steady, In and out.
“Right! Sorry!” Gibbs was the last one up the stairs, he was protecting his people, firing the odd shot at anyone who tried to stop them four of them from getting where they needed to go.
“Jake?” It was the softest of whimpers that escaped from your lips as DiNozzo carried you up the stairs. “Jake?” You mumbled again, only this time a little louder and more confused. “What’s going on?”
“You’re okay ma’am.” Tony tried his best to calm you before you had a chance to panic. “Jakes right behind me, I’m special agent Anthony DiNozzo with the NCIS.”
“Oh.” Was all you could say as you dangled over Dinozzo's shoulders. “Oh god someone found us.” It was more like you were trying to convince yourself this was real. “Someone came.”
“We did ma’am.” DiNozzo confirmed as he opened the latch on the door that led out to the loading dock. “We’re not out of the woods yet though, so just stay with us for a little while longer okay?” When he was finally able to unlock the heavy metal door, DiNozzo was delighted to see the medi-vac choppers coming in for landing. “Over there!” He shouted back at Jake and Gibbs before he took off running with you on his shoulders.
The sunlight burned Jake's skin as he stepped out into the light. God how long had it been since he’d felt the warmth of the sun on his usually tanned skin. He’d never been this pal, this skinny, this unkempt.
“There’s someone who wants to speak with you, Lieutenant.” Gibbs smirked as he escorted Jake across the snow and over to the helicopter that would be taking him back to the carrier. He handed him a radio, one of those sat nav ones.
Jake held it up so he could talk just as five F-18 Super Hornets came racing past to pepper the building with ammunition. It was a full takedown if there ever was one. A covert operation to get you and Jake back. The signal had been given and it was go time.
“What took you so long?” Jake wasn’t sure who it was going to be, but he knew they were all up there. All cheering that he was alive, that you were alive. That the pair of you were being rescued. Hey did however have a slight inkling as to who might answer. “What the hell has the Calvary been!”
“Hey Hangman.” Rooster bellowed through the radio as he flew closer to the building just to drop a missile on the southwest corner. “You look good!” Jake couldn’t contain his laughter, this was really happening.
“I am good, Rooster.” He remembered what he’d said all those years ago. “I’m very good.” Jake sighed as he watched his colleagues and friends dismantle the building you and Jake had been held hostage in for what felt like forever. “Now get us outta here!”
“We better keep moving, Lieutenant.” Gibbs ushered Jake over to the other medi-vac helicopter, it had all gone according to plan. Jake had kept his heart rate below one twenty as his watch kept telling him. You were being loaded into the other helicopter, strapped to a medical gurney and fitted with oxygen immediately. Jake watched on as the building the four of you had just come out of went up in smoke and flames. Insurgents scurried out for their lives at any exit they could take. “Let’s get these birds in the sky!”
“Yes sir.” The pilot copied just as Jake saw the man he’d been told was dead appearing out of the smoke, surrounded by insurgents with guns who aimed right for the two medi-vac helicopters.
“Come on probie help me get her strapped in.” Tony grumbled as he fiddled with the straps around the wheels of the bed you were on. He didn’t want it to budge. “How the hell did you get the easy job anyway!”
“Easy job!! I’ve been out here for ten minutes fending off enemy fire!”
“I thought you said he was dead!?” Jake hissed as he eyed off the man who’d put you both through hell. He couldn’t help but to say as he thought about making a break from the helicopter just to get his revenge from n the man who’s done so much damage. But he couldn’t, Jake wouldn’t do that as the helicopter began to rise from the snow covered ground. He wasn’t going to, not for any amount of money, you’d told him when the pair of you were first captured to never play the hero again—but Jake was a villain. A hero would sacrifice anything for the greater good. He’d see anything ax expendable.
But Jake would walk through fire and cross the seven seas for you, he had no such desire to want to play the hero. He just wanted to be safe again, with you. So knowing you were already safe, there was no reason to go back. There was no reason to want to be a hero.
“I lied—“ Gibbs sighed as he aimed his weapon. “Get us up in the air!” Jake knew the moment he saw The Commander standing there watching him escape that he wouldn’t let him go without a fight, without causing enough damage that he might not make it out alive. As the helicopters took off you sat up just to watch the group below you get further and further away.
You were safe. Jake was safe. You were finally getting out of this hell together. And then? Everything you thought you knew came crashing down around you as you watched what appeared to be Jake's lifeless body fall out of the side of the medi-vac helicopter. No. Not now, not after everything you'd been through.
“NNOOOOO!” You cried out from behind the oxygen mask you'd been given. “JAKE!!”
Jake first fell to his knees as his hand gripped at his chest. The pain was all too real, too overpowering for him to stay steady on his feet. The Commander stood grinning ear to ear as he watched Jake fall out of the Medi-vac that was in the process of taking off. It would have been a solid hundred metres give or take a few. But it was surely enough to break Jake's jaw on impact.
“You’re not going anywhere Seresin!” The Commander growled as he and his men ascended on Jake. Two of them pulled him harshly up by his forearms as they forced Jake to look up at the very man who had caused so many people so much pain. “Your girl might get out, but you–you won't ever see the light of day ever again.
“Take us back to the carrier!” DiNozzo ordered the pilot who had carried on his way. You were in complete hysterics. You couldn't leave, not without Jake.
“WE HAVE TO GO BACK!” With all your might you were trying to get up off the bed. “WE CAN'T LEAVE HIM!” You felt like you couldn't breathe, Jake had been your rock this whole time. You'd seen the worst in people but also seen the best in him. You couldn't leave him behind, you couldn’t betray him when he never once let you give up.
“Ma’am, Ma’am you need to try and relax alright, Gibbs will figure it out.” Tony reassured you just hoping that his boss could pull something together. “We’re not going to leave him here, but we need to get you back to people who can help keep you alive.”
“I’m gonna kill you, I’m gonna kill you dead just because I can and for what it's worth? Your name will be forgotten once we are one word and one people, Jacob.” It was the worst kind of pain, a pain unparalleled to no other, the kind of pain that takes your breath away. That kind of pain that stops blood in its tracks, that shortens ligaments and tendons as you seize. “If only you’d just stayed the fuck away.” The Commander spat as he stopped Jake's heart, he fried the pacemaker in his chest past the breaking point and when his finger finally came off the little button in his hand: Jake was just thankful to have gotten to hear you say you loved him. Even if you only said it back to even the playing cards.
Jake knew you could never love him. Not after this, not after you’d gone through unspeakable agony all because of a split second decision he made.
“You’re not, you’re not going to win this.” Jake struggled out as he looked up at The Commander. “Dennis—“ That struck a raw nerve as The Commander reached for a handgun one of his men held. He wasted not a single second before peppering three rounds into Jake's gut.
“Maybe, but you won’t be around to see the outcome.”
Jake Seresin laid dying in the snow surrounded by insurgents as five F-18 Super Hornets laid waist into the building you'd both been held captive in—destroying every crevice, every brick. But ultimately it was just a little too late. You’d be okay though, you had to be. Jake had to believe that as his blood stained the China white snow he laid in.
The expected was always easier to accept than the unexpected.
“Everybody get to the evacuation points, if you see anyone you don’t trust? Kill them.” Jake could hear The Commander ordering his men before he kicked the heel of his boot into Jake's face. “Goodbye Lieutenant Seresin—you really did your country proud.” The condescending tone in The Commander’s voice really drove it home that all this had been for nothing. He was going to die, killed in action his final report would say.
The last thing Jake thought about as he laid in the snow watching as the medi-vac helicopters flew away, one of which had you finally safe on, was that he hoped you went on to live a beautiful life. Got back on your feet, healed from everything you were subjected to, went on to love and experience all the good the world had to offer. He thought about what kind of guy would be so lucky to marry you, have a life with you, raise your children, and watch you thrive. Because it wouldn’t be him. He was okay with that though because you were safe now, Jake Seresin was okay with dying so long as it meant you got the help you needed, that you deserved.
“I love you.”
Because you weren’t ever expendable. Not to him.
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
People have scars in all sorts of unexpected places. Like secret road maps of their own personal history. Diagrams of all their old wounds. Most old wounds heal, leaving nothing behind but a scar, but some of them don't. Some wounds you carry with you everywhere, and although the cuts are long gone: the pain still lingers.
“Where's Jake?” It was the only thing you could say as you fought off unconsciousness. “Where's Jake? Where is he?”
“Lieutenant Y/l/n we need to get you into medical so we can start you on IV fluids and antibiotics–” It was a voice you didn't recognise that replied to you as you were being wheeled off the medi-vac and onto the deck of the carrier. “Someone let the Swaine know we’re on route!”
“Where's Jake?” Why wasn’t anyone listening, why wasn’t anyone answering you? “Please someone tell me he’s okay, that he’s alive? Please?”
It truly was a spectacle on the deck, but in all the commotion of your big arrival no one was listening to what you were mumbling behind your oxygen mask. No one except for one sandy blonde aviator who was pushing past every person he had to in order to get to your side as they wheeled you across the runway. He’d barely shut off his F-18 before he was racing down the tarmac after you.
“Hey!” Bradley beamed as he reached your side, his hand slipped into your as he walked with the team who were in charge of getting you where you needed to go. “Hey, Hollywood, holy shit–” He couldn't believe you were alive, sure none of them had ever given up hope and from the fleeting information they had been given during your time in captivity, he hoped that CIA agent was still alive, but still he couldn't believe you were actually back. It had been so long. “You’re safe now, we’ve got you.”
“WHERES JAKE!” It came out as an agonising scream until Rooster could see your tears. “Where is he Bradshaw?” As far as Bradley was aware Jake's rescue Evac was still in the process. He’d fallen and that's all Bradley knew for sure.
“He’s right behind you, they got him Hollywood, you don't have to worry anymore.” DiNozzo, the Special Agent in charge of escorting you back to medical, looked at the aviator across the gurney from him. He knew that Jake was still yet to be evacuated. He was still on the ground the last Tony saw. “You can rest now, it's alright, Jakes right behind you.”
“Oh–” You sighed as your entire body relaxed, it was a weight you didn't realise was compressing your chest. “Oh good.” It was only then did your body allow you to go into complete rest. You fell into unconsciousness seconds after being told that Jake was okay, he was coming, that he was right behind you.
“We’re losing her, we gotta move.” One of the officers informed Bradley as he stood still, watching as you were wheeled into the carrier. Not knowing if you were actually going to make it out of this hell alive.
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
Jake swore the chill of the snow would take him before his heart gave out. He couldn’t move a single muscle as he laid there on his back in the silence—only burning rubble seemed to break through the deafening silence of his last moments on earth.
He thought about you, the entire time. How your laugh would fill up the Hard Deck and how he’d roll his eyes in response. It was stupid really but Jake honestly thought if he didn’t get involved with you personally it would be easier to forget about the way you made him feel whenever you walked into a room.
“Y/n.” Your name sounded so familiar to him, so alluring and all consuming. “Y/n.” It brought him comfort in death. To whisper your name to himself as his life drained from him. “Y/n.”
“Not Y/n—“ Gibbs groaned as he pressed gauze into Jake's stomach and moved his hands to cover it. “Keep your hands on that.” He told Jake with a hushed tone, like he was trying to keep quiet. “Lift on three, one, two—three.”
“AAHHH!” Jake couldn’t help the agonising whelp that escaped his mouth as he was lifted up onto a stretcher. Had they come back for him? Surely not—at this point he was dead weight. Why on earth would they turn back for him?
“Get him on that medi-vac now!” Gibbs ordered as he stood and looked around, it seemed as though The Commander had been able to flee with a handful of insurgents. “Stop the bleeding as fast as you can.”
What's worse? New wounds which are so horribly painful or old wounds that should have healed years ago and never did? Maybe old wounds teach you something, maybe they remind you of where you've been and what you’ve overcome. They teach you lessons about what to avoid in the future.
That's what Jake liked to think. Because as he let his head rest back against the stretcher and thought about how beautiful the embers of that god awful building were, he couldn't wait for these new wounds to become valuable lessons that didn't hurt as bad as they did now.
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
Every cell in the human body regenerates on average every seven years. Like snakes, we shed our skin. Biologically, we’re brand new people. It's imperative, change that is. You might look the same, you probably feel the same, but the change isn't visible. At least not for most people.
“She’s waking up—“ You barely heard it, the husk of a familiar voice that came from beyond the darkness. “Do you want me to leave?”
When people say things like ‘People don't change’ It drives scientists crazy, because change is literally the only constant in all of science. Energy. Matter. It's always changing. Morphing. Merging. Growing. Dying. It's the way people try not to change that's unnatural.
“No kid, no—“ Again, another familiar voice echoed beyond the darkness as you were brought back into the light. A steady beeping droned in the background monitoring your vitals. “You stay, I’ll go check on how Lieutenant Seresin is doing after surgery.”
The way people cling to what things were instead of letting them be what they are. The way you cling to old memories instead of forming new ones can be just as damaging as trying not to evolve. The way people insist on believing, despite every scientific indication that anything in this lifetime is permanent.
“Okay, yeah—let me know how he is?” Bradley asked as your dad, Commander ‘Hollywood’ Neven, tapped his shoulder as he sat by your bedside. Watching over you as you recovered from what had been some of the most extensive and exhausting surgeries Rooster had ever seen.
His mother had had a few operations in her battle with Cancer—but none of which came close to what he was told you were going through.
From the complete orthopedic reconstruction on your shattered wrist to the skin graft on your lower back, to the plastic surgery repair made to damage done on your face. Some scars would remain—but your surgeon was pretty hopeful that the swelling would go down. It made Roosters heart break.
“Roo—“ It was the first thing you managed to struggle out. Your throat was so dry as you tilted your head to the side just slightly to see him better. “Hi.” The light hurt your eyes, in a way it felt good to be out of the dark.
“Hey Hollywood.” Bradley smiled as he reached out to grab your hand. “Tell you what you know how to scare us, don't you?” You couldn't help the oh so soft smile that crept across your face when you realised you were home, that you were finally safe. “How you feeling?”
“Uh–” You didn't know what to say. Your entire body ached for various different reasons all the more painful to describe than the last. You were a plethora of injuries, a thesaurus of unspeakable acts of violence. And even though there wasn't a part of you that didn’t hurt, all your mind could think about was Jake. So you lied. You lied straight through your teeth. “I'm okay.” Bradley didn't believe it, not for a second. He had seen the state you were in when they airlifted you back to the carrier. And it seemed as though your number one priority hadn’t changed. “Where's Jake? Is he okay?”
“Hangman's–” You interrupted Bradley quicker than he could explain Jake's current status.
“I asked where Jake was Rooster, Hangman isn't Jake.” The man who had done everything he could to protect you wasn't Hangman. He was simply Jake. “So please, just tell me Jakes alive?” Bradley complied with your very specific request and told you what you wanted to hear first.
“Jakes alive.” He nodded. “But he's critical, he's been in and out of surgery for a few days Y/n.” Rooster had collected a series of coffee cups on the table in your hospital room, ranging in size and kind. He must have been here with you for a while. “Your dads seeing to it that he gets the best care.”
“How long have I been out?” You asked next, everything was blurry. You could remember bits and pieces of being rescued, but not many. You could hear the sound of the helicopter blades in your head, but faces were all distorted in your memory. You could remember Jake holding you, his warmth protecting you from all harm, but then you saw him fall. He fell. Over and over in your mind you watched Jake fall and then you heard your pain filled cries of pure heartbreak. “How long has it been?”
“Since we got back here, a few days–you've been on some pretty strong painkillers and the doctors just kept telling me you'd wake up when your body was ready.” It was nice to fill in the gaps. But there was one gap you weren't sure if you wanted to fill.
“And how long were Jake and I, you know, held for?” Bradley wasn't sure if he should be the one to tell you, but then again, if you wanted anyone else to tell you, you would have waited to ask them and not him. So he told you, point blank.
“Almost Three months.”
“Oh god.” Change is constant, how you experience change, that's up to you. “No, No no no it cant have been three whole months Rooster.” It can feel like death, or it can feel like a second chance at life if you open your fingers, loosen your grip and go with it, it can feel like pure adrenaline.
“Y/n?” Bradley frowned when he heard your heart rate monitor start to beep at a faster rate than the machine was comfortable with. “Are you okay?” You felt like you couldn’t breathe as your brain tried to process the harsh reality that you and Jake had been held prisoners for three whole months. Your airways were tightening, like someone had their hands around your neck and was squeezing, holding you down, choking you. “Hey! Hey, I need someone in here! Nurse!” Bradley jumped up to his feet and hit the panic button as you began to cry, panicking as your body didn't feel like your own.
“Oh god, I can't breathe!” You cried out. “Rooster, help!” Like at any moment you can have another chance at life. Like at any moment, you can be born all over again. Or die from the pure weight of it all.
“She's having a panic attack or something.” Rooster explained to the nurses who were first into the room. “I don't know what to do.”
“It's the Asthma, sir.” One of the nurses explained. “She needs ventolin.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“You gotta wake up for me.” An induced coma, that's what the doctors had told you. That's what they said Jake needed in order to heal. In their words, his injuries were extensive, critical and very much life threatening. But while you watched Jake breathe through tubes and held his hand just to let him know you were there, you had to believe that he was going to be okay. That he’d pull through and you'd get to see his smile again.
“You don't get to leave me now you son of a bitch do you hear me?” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I'll be so pissed if you leave me here.” You snarled right in his ear so that he could hear you. “I'll come and find you in the afterlife and when I get there? I'll rain hell down on you for all eternity.” You weren't expecting a reply, not with Jake being in an induced coma and all. The tubes alone would have stopped him from replying even if he was awake. “Please wake up soon, I really miss you.” With your good hand, you gently ran your palm up his forehead and moved the hair that had fallen across his face away. The bruises were dark and extensive, but Jake was still there under it all. Under all the swollen and bruised skin and bone. Jake was still there. Your Jake was still fighting with everything he had. “I love you, please don't leave me.”
You sat back in your chair, the one you had been in since you were able to leave your own room during the day and visit Jake. You had to take your IV pole with you though, it was a non negotiable. You had to stay hooked up to antibiotics to fight off the infection in your lungs. It hurt to breathe, so the oxygen tank came too.
“How are we doing today Kiddo?” You dad asked as he came to visit you like he did every day. He, like all the other aviators that came to visit you and Jake, had gotten used to finding you up in Jake's room up in the intensive care ward.
“My lungs are on fire but it beats the alternative.” You only took your eyes off Jake for a second to acknowledge your father, who so far, hadn’t pried too deep into finding out details of your imprisonment. You knew he'd have to take off the farther figure hat and replace it with his Commander of the pacific fleet hat soon enough. “The doctors said they’re happy with Jake's stats, said he might be able to come out of the coma soon.”
“That's good to hear sweetheart.” Your dad replied as he stood at the end of Jake's hospital bed, eyes off the man who had kept you alive from what he could tell. “I've uh, i've organised for you to speak to someone, someone who might be able to help you start to process what you went through.”
“I'm not interested.” It was as dismissive as it could be. You had no intention of leaving Jake's side for any longer than you had to. You didn't want to talk to anyone about any of it, they wouldn't understand and you certainly had no desire to explain all your trauma to a complete stranger. “With all due respect, dad, I don't have any intention of returning to active duty, so a therapist signing off on a clearance form that I’m mentally capable of returning to work, isn't needed.” You added the explanation at the end without so much as looking at your dad. You had a sinking feeling in your gut the more you thought about it. The more you were told about the people you had been tasked to take down. To dismantle.
“Baby girl.” Your dad tried to reason with you as a father and as Commander. “You are a highly skilled weapons system officer, the Navy cannot afford to lose you.”
“But yet I wasn't good enough to not be labelled as expendable huh?” The room was cold, but your heart was colder now more than ever before. It made sense but at the same time it didn't. Why? Why would the man you looked up to, respected so much–do this to you?
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you know that I was sent on this mission? Why I was chosen over Bob and Fanboy, two highly skilled, highly decorated WSO that Jake already worked with and had worked with for years?” Your dad was silent. Of course he knew, he had to have known considering the stakes of the mission. It just hadnt crossed your mind until you were sitting at that dining table with The Commander being told details you weren’t privy to prior to your file being selected.
“I–” There was nothing your dad could say to change your mind about the situation. He knew, he had betrayed you.
“I almost died, dad.” You barely spoke above a whisper all the while you kept your eyes on Jake's face. “And you signed off on this mission, knowing that we were going in blind with half a file that contained only basic information.”
“We knew you were capable.” Your dad was firm with you, like a Commander would be. “I knew you were ready for this, and I knew you were capable of understanding the risks involved—none of us banked on Seresin not knowing how to let go.” So it was true. They all believed the same thing, that if push came to shove Jake would save himself, not his WSO, not his Wingman. No one.
“You used me as collateral in case it didn't go according to plan!”
“Darling, you cannot blame me for what happened—I signed off on the mission file, the admirals were given recommendations, your name and file happened to be one of many.”
“I need you to leave!” You snapped with tears streaming down your cheeks. Now more than ever you wished Jake would just wake up. “I need you to leave and I need you to understand that I don’t have any intention of talking to any therapist or physician or anyone!” It was then you took your hand out of Jakes to pick up one of the empty coffee cups on Jakes bedside table, one of the many you had begun to collect, and threw it at your dad. “Get out!”
He did. He did what you asked without a fight, knowing the consequences of his actions along with many others would come back to bite him. You and Jake were not letting this slide, not in a million years.
“Where is it?” You mumbled to yourself as you fumbled around your pockets for your inhaler. You didn’t understand the panic induced asthma yet, but you had been told how to manage it. “Where is it?” When you finally found the little red inhaler in the pocket of your hoodie, you took a single hit of the ventolin and tried to calm down.
“Miss Y/l/n, are you staying for morning rounds?” One of the doctors who had been looking after Jake asked as he came into the room. Followed by his interns.
“Yes please—“ You sighed as you got comfortable and reached out for Jake’s hand again. “And for the love of god Doc tell me you’re gonna wake him up soon?”
All he did was smile in return before looking over to one of his interns. A young female who looked all the more surprised that she was being called upon to present.”
“Uh this is Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, sustained three gunshot wounds to the middle abdomen that resulted in severe blood loss, major cardiac trauma resulting in a heart attack that left his right aorta damaged.” It was nothing you hadn’t heard before, could probably resight it all yourself by now you’d heard it so many times. “A broken mandible as a result from falling one hundred meters and multiple other injuries ranging from minor to major abrasions, bruises and laceration that all seem to be on the mend.” Hearing it every day didn’t get any easier. Until the last part that put fresh hope in your heart. You hadn’t heard that part before today.
“Due to be slowly woken from an induced coma as of today.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“Today could be the day Y/n.” The first twenty four hours after surgery are critical. Every breath you take, every fluid you make, is meticulously recorded and analysed, celebrated or mourned. But what about the next twenty four hours? “You just have to remember that both of you went through hell, his body needs time.” Phoenix had brought your flowers. A kind gesture that put a sparkle in your eye for only a few minutes. You were back at Jake's bedside, curled up under a blanket in your chair with your IV poll still at your side. “You need time.”
“I just really need him to wake up—“ But what happens when that first day turns into two, three and four and then those days turn into weeks and possibly turn into months? “I’m starting to lose my mind—the longer he sleeps the more time I have to convince myself that they won.” You explained to Phoenix who fluttered about Jake's ICU ward room. Tidying up, making sure you had company. “That they broke him, me.”
“They apparently picked the guy up on the coast of Positano—“ It wasn’t the first time you’d heard it but it still felt so surreal to hear. “And that CIA lady's body was recovered a few days after you were rescued.” You’d never met her, but Jake had. The CIA and the NCIS were working together to get this guy long before you were assigned your mission. “So was Captain Hewens.” Phoenix made sure to remind you. “I don’t think he won Hollywood—if he won I don’t think you’d be sitting here.”
“He didn’t win.” The goal of any surgery is total recovery. To come out better than you were before. But for you and Jake? There was no certainty that the two of you could ever go back to the people you were before. “Ain’t no way he won.” Jake mumbled as he stirred slightly, his hand gripped yours back for the first time since you were able to visit. “He didn’t win—this is nothing I can’t handle.”
“Oh my god Jake! You’re awake!?” You cried as you got as close to him as you possibly could. “Hi, hey I’m right here yeah? You’re gonna be okay.”
“I love you—“ Jake needed to say that. He needed you to know. “You’re okay? I’m not dead am I?”
“No, no you're not dead Jake.” You couldn’t help but to chuckle with utter relief. “You’ll know we’re dead, remember? when it’s just us, on a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere, just the two of us.” You whispered as you pushed his hair up and away from his forehead.
“Count me in for that version of heaven.” He’d barely opened his eyes, but Jake had missed your smile oh so much. He would do anything to see it, like a damn fool head over heels in love, he’d do anything. “So we made it? We’re out?”
“We’re out, we’re home and we’re safe.” Some patients heal quickly and feel immediate relief. For others, the healing happens gradually and it's not until months or even years later that you realise that you don't hurt anymore. “You saved my life Jake Seresin—you never left me hanging.”
“I’ll leave you two alone for a little while.” Phoenix politely excused herself to go check in with the nurses station about notifying a doctor that Jake was awake. You appreciated it—because now that he was awake you weren’t leaving his side.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked as he just tried to focus on breathing. When he was finally able to open his eyes they were in you and never left. “Woah, I kinda forgot what you looked like without the dirt and grim, you’re beautiful.”
“Apparently I’ve got a pretty serious infection in my lungs that gives me asthma attacks when I get worked up but other than that I think I’m okay.” You explain knowing Jake would honestly want you to tell the truth rather than just say you were okay. “And the last thing my body was focused on was maintaining its cycle so I lost my period.” Jake knew why you were mentioning it. “Guess my body just knew what it had to do and not drop any eggs.” Jake squeezed your hand a little tighter and brought your palm up to his lips. “So no need to abort any insurgent fetuses.”
“How long?” You’d asked Rooster the same question, it ended in a panic attack. But again—if Jake wanted to know from anyone else he would have asked them and not you. “How long were we in there for?”
“Almost Three Months.” So the challenge after every surgery is to be patient. But if you can make it through the first few weeks and months? If you believe that healing is possible–then you can get your life back.
“Guess we’re gonna be pretty messed up for a while aren’t we?” Jake sighed as he fought back tears, this was hell on earth. His entire body hurt but not nearly as much as his heart ached looking at you with his head full of your screams. “But I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“I’m really thankful you’re alive too.” But that's a big if. “And I know that isnt gonna be easy, it’s gonna really hurt—and be really hard, we’re gonna have to work at this everyday.” You were trying to keep yourself together for Jake’s sake as you let your hand squeeze against his. “But I want to do that because I want you.”
“You sure about that hotshot?” Jake breathed in softly as his heart beat steady without any doubt that you were the love of his life. “I’m the one who got you into that mess in the first place.” When you nodded softly as tears fell freely down your cheeks, Jake knew one day he’d ask you to marry him.
“I want all of you, forever, you and me, everyday.” You added, but then there was the pause Jake was waiting for. He knew it was coming because he was thinking the same damn thing. “But we have to heal first, recover—I think the worst thing we could do for each other would be to go into a relationship when we’re literally being held together by glue and some staples.”
“Can we recover together? But unofficially?” Jake smiled softly as he reached out to cup your still bruised cheek. “Because I unofficially love you, and unofficially I think that I’m not going anywhere.” You let out a laugh, a laugh so pure it brought Jake back to life. He needed nothing but you, forever.
“Unofficially that sounds like a pretty good idea.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream
#bruises // jake seresin#Jake Seresin whump#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin angst#jake hangman fic#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman x reader#top gun fan fiction#top gun hangman
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VI)
Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.
Word count: 2.5k.
Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.
Warnings on this chapter: some suicide thoughts, very suggestive stuff, nudity, sexual tension barely starting, misogyny coming from you know who lol.
Notes: i was eager to drop this so here it is. hope i can make justice to the slow burn/slow sexual tension. aaaa as always thanks for reading!! ily all!
this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
get yourself in the taglist!
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | | Part VIII
GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!
Part VI: Don't Lay Your Red Hand On Me
“Where the fuck are we going?” Ben asked, checking the picture outside the windshield.
The sun was already setting down, and there have been hours since you started driving. At least he had been able to see the damn sunset again after being caged for so long.
Despite his questioning look and not trusting you completely, both made it to your car in the middle of the mess of blood and headless corpses around the building, with him naked under the effects of your invisibility powers. Somehow, you still managed to reassure Soldier Boy it was to protect him. In fact, as you guided both out of the place, you were scared of your abilities not working properly to have him covered. The last thing you wanted was the cameras to have a look at him, escaping with your help.
Now, with Soldier Boy dressed in his clothes and you still wiping some of the dry blood from your skin, you drove without a destiny in mind. Just somewhere you could take him far away from Homelander and Vought. He was, in fact, your top priority and needed to be protected, even if you knew you were nothing compared to his strength and abilities, you still had the urgency of him trusting you, to feel like you really cared. And you did care, but for the wrong reasons and those, he didn’t have to know.
“Far away,” you responded, picking up your phone with one hand as you drove through the highway.
“That doesn’t tell me anything,” he insisted, looking at you switching your attention between the device in your hands and the road.
You dialed Grace, ignoring his voice. She didn’t answer immediately. You cursed under your breath and dialed again. No answer anew, just the ring and the automatic voicemail message. Well, fuck. You had to play with what you had.
“Hey, it’s me,” you began the message. “Please call me when you can, I have to inform you of something. It’s urgent, please call me back.”
Ben rolled his eyes, annoyed as fuck for your silence towards his demands. “You’re gonna tell me now what the fuck is going on? You’re a fucking supe and everyone is dead back there! And not ‘cause of me.”
“First, nothing to fear from me. Okay? You’re the one who’d kill me in a blink. Second, I don’t know!” you yelled as a response, clearly irritated. “I don’t know shit! I know we need to run and that’s all. So just shut up and let me drive.”
“Christ on a cross, you women are fucking irritating,” Ben fumed. He saw a cheap motel by the road and he would’ve guessed you were going there because you slowed down and pulled up in the parking lot. He sighed. “Home, shitty home.”
“Got any ideas? Because I’m all ears,” you stopped the engine and got down the car, taking the sports bag with you. The supe rolled his eyes and before he went out, you came right to his half open door. “Stay here, I'll check in.”
Ben shut his eyes, watching you closing the car door with a loud thud, and you left to get a room. He felt the need to storm behind and shout out what he really thought of your stupid ass bossing him around. If it wasn’t because he wasn’t really half the way out of the fucking car, he should have been arguing and insisting for some real answers. But for some reason he stayed back. When you came back after a short time he followed you to a double bed room you’d be using just for the night.
Once you entered, you decided a shower was first thing on the list, and then you had to communicate with Grace as soon as fucking possible. Checking around, you were thankful to find a couple of towels in the bathroom, while Ben settled on his own space, lying down on one of the beds.
He observed you thoroughly as you studied yourself in the dirty mirror hanging on the wall. The disgusting grimace you made told him you were looking for more blood to wipe off. And before he could speak again you turned to see him.
“I'm gonna take a shower,” you announced.
He raised a brow. “Mind some company, sweetheart?”
You rolled your eyes as you started to unbutton your blouse, his eyes checking shamelessly the little exposed skin didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Don't even think about it.”
And with that, you just disappeared inside the bathroom. The noise of water running compensated both of you for the silence. He turned on the cheap TV to have some noise for himself too, deciding he’d go for a shower after you. Probably if he was in a different mood would have just tried to get in your pants. Ben was getting so damn stressed out. First you took out his weed, then you announced he would have medication for his fucking stress disorder or some shit, and later, agents and employees of the facility just started to die violently without reason. He thought if any of you would be next while you walked him out.
It was too much to handle right now. He needed something to take it all out. Something, anything, somebody. Just to release it the only way he knew: with sexual pleasure. He didn't understand yet what the fuck was happening. Did you really care about him? You could just have left him there to handle everything by himself and run away. Yet, you took him out of the facility and he, once again, had a glimpse of your courage. Maybe a little. And he started to like that. Suddenly, he heard the shower being turned off and minutes later you came out of the bathroom sooner than he expected, dressed in the same clothing, drying the droplets on your face and wet hair.
“I’m gonna get some dinner, stay here” you announced, taking your phone and the room and car keys. “The door will be locked, don’t do anything stupid.”
Ben scoffed, standing up before making his way to take a shower himself. He faced you directly, just a couple of inches separating both of you. Your gaze challenged him to step closer. “I’m not a fucking animal.”
You hummed, without looking away from his eyes. “Sometimes I doubt you.”
“Locking the fucking door won’t do shit, why you keep doing this?” Ben asked, visible confusion on his features. He really looked tired as hell. Tired of your bullshit.
“It’s not because of you. I perfectly understand that, just wait for me here.”
With that, you turned on your heels and left the room. From the other side, you locked the door. Ben let out a deep breath. He knew it was easy to tear it apart, and again, run after you to have damn answers for once. But instead, he decided to calm himself a little and get rid of his clothes. Inside the shower, he let the warm water take care of the burdens he was carrying, without knowing, on his back. He wondered if he’d been better dead by now, if sleeping in a chamber was a greater choice than this, just running along with you, a woman, who just seemed to fuck him up even more instead of playing real like you had promised. If he knew how to kill himself, probably would’ve done it already. He was getting sick of hiding, of being a fucking experiment, to be under someone’s else’s orders… The worst part of it all is that he never had the right to choose on his own faith. Not even his own death.
Out of the room, you were a few feet away from the door you left behind when your phone started to ring softly. An unknown number appeared on the screen and cautiously you answered, making your way to the car, getting inside on the co-pilot seat.
“Hello?” a voice you knew too well started to speak after some seconds of silence.
“Grace?”
The woman on the other line breathed out. “Yeah, it’s me. Uhm, couldn’t attend earlier, sorry…”
“It’s okay,” you shook your head, as if she could see you face to face. “We’ve been compromised. My lab assistants, the nurses, scientists, guards… Everyone is dead.”
“Fuck,” Grace hissed. She sounded exhausted. “Where is Soldier Boy?”
“I took him out, checked us in at a motel. Can’t go back to my old place. Not yet.”
“You have the copies of the project, right?”
For a moment you felt she was doubting you, but you answered anyway, surprised she would even ask that. “I do.”
There was a little silence coming from her. You continued. “I don’t think I told you yet, but… Fuck, I received a visit from Homelander a couple of days ago. He crashed into my apartment… He knows.”
Grace cursed under her breath. “Y/N, we’re playing with fire here.”
You swallowed thickly, feeling your heartbeat raising. “What’s going on with you? Something happened back there?”
“Victoria Neuman came, saying she wanted to talk to me. She kinda threatened my life, and I’m on the run… Now I can make the puzzle.”
“You think they might be working together?”
“Probably. Senator Bishop was found dead, and guess who is running now with Robert Singer for vice president.”
You chuckled. The whole situation was so ironically clear. “Victoria, that stupid, smart bitch.”
“I’m gonna get some information on her, I know some people who’d know more than I do. I’ll call once I find something.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for that. Do you need me to do anything?”
“Just keep Soldier Boy busy. Work on that injection as soon as you can,” she ordered.
You nodded to yourself, taking a look around the empty lot. “Yes, ma’am.”
After a somewhat long time, Ben saw you entering the room and locking the door. You left a paper bag and water on the nightstand by his bed, where he laid down like he was having a nice day on the beach with only a towel around his hips. He noticed you looked down at him a little longer than usual, but he wasn’t going to let that slip. A sleazy smirk formed on his lips.
“My eyes are up here, sugar.”
You turned away your gaze for a moment before looking back up at him again, confident this time as you locked up your eyes with his half-lidded ones.
“Stop the pet names, Soldier Boy.”
Ben stood up on his feet slowly under your eyes following his moves. His muscular frame towering over your figure as the towel fell to the floor, revealing his bare figure to you. He was growing fond of the way you didn’t step back, ever, from him.
“Well, you never complained back there. Speaking of,” he took the bottle of water between his hands and took a sip from it before his green orbs focused on you anew. “I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I already told you. I don’t know shit.”
“Fucking lies,” the supe hissed. “Tell me now.”
You shrugged and crossed your arms on your chest, tired of him. “I have nothing.”
“Sweetheart, you never shut your piehole during our sessions. Don’t back up now,” he dared, stepping closer to you, eyelids narrowing.
Neither Ben or you dared to look away. You had to act like it, for your good. What if Soldier Boy found out that probably Homelander was behind all of it? It was going to be the end of him, his son; the fucking abusive experiment would be gone with a blast. But Vought was still around. It wasn’t just about Homelander or personal payback. It was more than that.
Homelander was barely the tip of the iceberg. And you were afraid Ben would never understand the mission. Would he say yes to use his blood to create even more experiments after all he went through, even if you explained everything? You knew his answer. The next step was getting it from him and it was going to be the hardest thing ever. But you could think of that later. There was nothing that a small cut accident couldn’t do.
“I’m not talking because I have nothing to tell you, Ben,” you lied, looking at him with your brows knitting together. “I wish I knew, but I’m just as scared as you might be.”
“I’m not scared,” he replied a little too fast. “I want to know why you took me out.”
“Why not?” you insisted. “You deserve another chance.”
And I need you alive to find a cure to this curse.
Ben scrutinized your face. This time, he couldn’t read through you. What did he know though, was that he was tired. A burning ache was forming inside him once again and he needed to release it. He was used to sensing your heartbeats, the blood running on your veins, and still now there was no glimpse of you reacting to his teasing. Any other woman would have thrown herself at him, he was used to it. Now, there wasn’t anyone. Just you, paying no attention to his perfectly sculpted body and his cock between his legs. It had to be the fact that you were a supe. Not as powerful, but still. A clear advantage in the cursed world you all lived in. He took in your body, thinking into luring you to give in and imagining how it would be to have you crying under him, moaning his name exactly like numerous women have. Just for the night.
“Don’t think about it, Soldier Boy,” you voiced out, like if you read his nasty mind. “I’m not gonna do that.”
His eyes went back to your face. “Y’know, I used to have lines of women like you during my days. Countless lines of rich whores, waiting to have a good fuck with me. Pretty ladies whose husbands would leave unattended, cute little secretaries, bombshell Hollywood actresses… All of them, just wet holes ready for me. I’d take them all.”
You chuckled at his pathetic little speech. If that was his way of getting you to bed, it wasn’t working. Not now, not never.
“I’m not just any rich whore, Ben. I don’t want to fuck you, you can use the bathroom to take care of your little problem down there.”
You saw how his jaw clenched as he held his eyes with yours.
He smirked. “Maybe not today, pretty thing. But you’ll see.”
“Be my guest.”
Ben turned around, giving you a clear view of his ass as he locked himself inside the bathroom. The sound of the shower running was not enough to cover his moans and grunts as he jerked himself off. You just decided to sleep. There was a long drive waiting for you in the morning.
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy imagines#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy fanfiction#the boys amazon prime#the boys series#the boys tv#jensen ackles fanfiction#soldier boy/ben
105 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii hope your doing well :)
if your up to writing requests can I request a fic where R is in a maths exam and its really stressing her out so she slips to a really little headspace and the teacher won’t let R leave maybe beacuse they think she’s faking it or something to get out of the test. so Larissa and/or Marilyn comes in and saves R and gives lots of cuddles and comfort and tells the teacher off. Then they go back to Larissas office and R gets take care of and looked after and its all sweet and fluffy.
Sorry for the long request and have a good day :)
<3
- ⭐️
Stressful situations
*Authors note~ we are gonna be Marilyn’s Teaching aid for a botany exam so not a student but a member of staff so we can be in a relationship with weems. I’m in an educational setting for placement which is why I changed it slightly I hope you don’t mind.*
Trigger warnings~ Agere little fem r cg Larissa cg ish Marilyn crappy invigilator stress cg Marilyn r and Marilyn are besties Marilyn isn’t laurel
Prompt~ see ask^^
The most stressful time of year for anyone in an educational setting as adults is a tie between the Christmas holidays and exam season. For assistants like you it was always the exam season that got you stressed the most. From the teachers being stressed with all things exams and the students being in various states of overwhelmed and burnt out coming to you for support. Safe to say you hate exam season but you always try your best to be as helpful as possible which is one of the reasons Marilyn became your best friend. You are her right hand woman when it comes to anything in school or personal life and she considered you a great friend.
Working with your best friend is great, until you realise you can’t hide from your girlfriend here either. See Larissa Weems, your ever loving partner, is the principal of Nevermore. Marilyn being your trusted friend soon meant she became one of Larissa’s too. And over time Marilyn learnt your secret and how to spot the signs too, you didn’t mind her knowing but now when your trying to hide from Larissa so she won’t notice, it’s more of a curse and not a blessing.
This exam Wednesday and Bianca have been particularly difficult, if one asked for a pen then the other was right behind asking for the same. If one noticed that the other had managed to race ahead questions then the other was racing to catch up while trying to sneakily out each other off. A constant need to one up another has you running back and forth the exam hall. A peak at the clock reveals you are unable to leave the room for another hour. But now with how overwhelmed and exhausted you are you aren’t sure you’ll make it.
You’d have to. The head invigilator looked at you like you’d grown three heads when you’d ask to get some air. It’s not unheard of that helpers for exam season would try to leave or get off the job early but you couldn’t help feeling the need to slip. But no. The guy stood firm in his answer and simply told you to stop being a drama queen and do your damn job. Fortunately, for you, Marilyn over heard everything and immediately pressed her little button on her pager to get Larissa here.
Being called to the exam hall as a principal is never a good thing, truly the blonde is getting a little tired of threatening Miss Addams with expulsion from Nevermore. But arriving at the hall tells her one thing, it’s not a professional call as Marilyn walks towards her with a sad smile and simple gesture towards you. There you stood desperately trying to keep control over your headspace and not break down crying but the two women just knew you didn’t have much more strength to give. “Thank you Miss Thornhill, come to my office when you’re done here.”
“Hi sweet girl” Larissa whispered as she stood in front of you, “look at me darling” she commanded and you did so instantly with tear’s shining in your eyes. “Let’s get out of her dear” was all it took to snap you out of the haze. “Can’t. Won’t let me” you mumbled stepping back from the woman. “He won’t stop you my love, come with me.” But of course as you start to leave the boss once again asked you what on earth you’re doing trying to leave only to be shut up with a quick few words from Larissa before she guides you out of the room.
Leaving the exam hall immediately triggered your headspace to slip at an almost instant pace but that’s okay because Larissa would ensure your safety and you knew that with your whole heart. With a hand on the small of your back, Larissa guided you towards her office with an ease that only came with experience, a gentle hand guiding you home. “It’s okay my darling, you can let it happen now love” she murmured making sure to shut the door and usher you further into her office.
As expected you broke down into harsh sobs that violently tore through your body. The sight alone caused the Principals heart to clench in sadness as she scooped you into her arms and cocooned you with her whole presence while whispering sweet praises in your ear in a hopes that maybe her scent and the words would help aid her in calming you down. You sat in the womans lap hands tightly wrapped in her blazer as if she was going to disappear at any moment, attempting to infuse your body to hers.
That almost seemed to do the trick until the sound of a gentle knock startled you, eyes flickering up to the woman whom you entrusted your life for an answer. “It’s just Mari sweetheart. I know my little one loves her Mari don’t you? Hmm?” She murmured before calling out to the red head to enter.
“How is our little star doing?” If anyone can calm you down it’s your girlfriend but on the occasions that Larissa had to rush off to a board meeting or deal with another Addams saga of trouble you knew Marilyn would act as her stand in. A fact that had taken adjustment from all parties but worked like a well oiled machine.
Instead of Larissa answering you mumbled into the woman that you were tired causing both women to be shocked, normally you wouldn’t involve yourself in this conversation, happy to just soak up Larissa’s attention before she had to hurry off. “I’m sorry darling girl, mama has to go to a meeting little love, do you think Mari can sit with you till I’m back? We will nap after that love” Larissa whispered causing you do whimper at the word go. “No mama I don’t like that” would’ve hurt Marilyn if she wasn’t so use to this routine, eventually you’d end up sitting closely, head leaning on her shoulder as you attempted to colour your mama a masterpiece. However, neither woman found it easy to watch you sob at the situation, pleading with her not to leave you, pleading your friend to make her stay. The closing of the door was always the final nail in that coffin.
Two hours later Larissa returned to her office to be met with you resting your head in Marilyn’s lap and lazily playing with her fingers. “Little star, I spy someone’s mama” Marilyn murmured to not startle you from your sleepy haze. “Mine mama?” You whispered hopefully, seconds later you’re scrambling off her lap and crashing your body into Larissa’s steady one. “Mama! I miss you! I did picture with Mari!” You squealed happily dragging your mana to your art work. “She was a star as usual Larissa, after her tears she was so good isn’t that right my star?” Marilyn murmured causing you to nod your head excitedly, mama always likes when you’re good for your friends.
That was how you ended up snuggled into Larissa for a lunch time nap after Marilyn had to go back to a revision session for another Botany exam coming in the next few days. Despite the start of the day, you knew that no matter what you had the best girlfriend and best friend who would advocate for your needs if you can no longer do so.
#anon answered#v3nusxsky answers#fanfic#anon requested#larissa weems x reader#larissa x you#larissa cg#larissa#larissa weems#larissa x reader#larissa x y/n#larissa x reader x marilyn#Marilyn cg#marilyn thornhill#Agere#weems#principal weems
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
push
pairing: jake x fem!reader | word count: 4.4k | warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls) | my masterlist
summary: an unexpected visit from your ex turns into something more
author’s note: so first things first this is named after the matchbox twenty song but let’s not focus on that!!! I started this fic forever ago and brought it up multiple times, but it’s finally here!! i’m really happy with how it came out, but also i’m new to writing smut so sorry if it’s not the best!! ALSO this is my longest fic by far AND it’s my tenth gvf fic that i’ve posted here so yay!!! also the second half of this is not proofread so sorry
*******************************************************
The harsh knock against your door rang through your apartment, pulling your attention away from the movie playing loudly on the TV in front of you. An irritated groan fell from your lips as you dragged yourself off of the couch and plodded to the door, swinging it open. Upon seeing the man on the other side, you silently cursed yourself for not looking through the peephole.
“What are you doing here, Jake?” you asked, your voice hostile as you eyed him with a cold glare.
A small smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, but he at least had the decency to try and hide it. “Hello to you, too,” he greeted, his voice too even for your liking, “I just came to get my shirt. The navy one with the buttons, y’know?” He spoke with his hands, and his fingers trailed along the buttons of his half-open shirt, drawing attention to the bare skin of his chest. The question caught you off guard, and upon your lack of response, his eyes peered into your apartment, his body leaning forward, but he was careful not to cross the threshold.
After a long pause of awkward silence, you sighed defeatedly and stepped back, allowing him to walk through the door. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen it, but I can look, I guess,” you grumbled and turned away from him. You marched into the living room and grabbed the remote, making sure to make a big show out of pausing your movie and tossing the remote back down.
Your eyes anchored to Jake as you faced him again. He leaned against the kitchen counter and nonchalantly looked about the room. It was a sight that was so familiar to you, but now it left a deep, twisting knot in your stomach. He shouldn’t look so comfortable here, and you blamed yourself for ever giving him the chance to be. Still, you couldn’t deny the lingering fondness that fell upon you when you saw his handsome frame relaxing in a place that was so intimately your own. If you looked at him long enough, you could almost feel all the memories of hurt fade away, unearthing the happiness you once shared together.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” his question rang in your ears as it pulled you from your daze and reminded you exactly who you were talking to. He looked at you expectantly and raised his eyebrows as he waited for an answer.
You rolled your eyes. “That ship sailed a long time ago, Jake,” you seethed, sending him a glare that could kill.
He simply shrugged and relaxed even further against the countertop. “Just thought I’d ask. Since you kept looking my way, y’know?” he quipped.
You scoffed, not even dignifying him with an answer. You knew he was only trying to get under your skin, and unfortunately for you, he was doing a damn good job at it.
“I’m gonna go look in my closet,” you stated as you walked towards your bedroom before turning back and looking at him again, adding sternly, “Stay there.”
You watched as he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he remarked, and it made you want to march over to him and knock the smirk off of his lips. Instead, you just let out a low groan and stomped down the hallway. You heard him call out a sarcastic, “You say something, doll?”, which you ignored, deciding that humoring him would only make his behavior a million times worse.
As you reached the door to your bedroom, you threw it open and stormed to your closet. You pulled the worn, dangling string, turning on the closet light as you began to rifle through the clothes hanging inside. A stream of curses and grumbles fell from your lips, your frustration barely contained, and to make matters worse, you still couldn’t find his stupid shirt.
When you reached the end of your rack of clothes you let out a loud sigh. Great. You tilted your head back, moving to run a hand over your face when something caught your eye. On the top shelf of your closet, you noticed a familiar back brim peeking out. Jake’s hat. You groaned again but thought that at least he would probably leave you alone if you gave him the hat. Then you could go back to living separate lives and acting like nothing ever happened between you, the way normal exes do. But then again, nothing about Jake was exactly normal.
With a huff, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes and reached for the hat. After a few moments of blindly grabbing atop the shelf, your hands closed around the brim. Unfortunately, when you pulled the hat loose, it sent an avalanche of shoeboxes and forgotten keepsakes tumbling down onto the floor, knocking you to the ground and earning a loud yelp from you.
“Fuck,” you grumbled as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You started to move boxes aside, trying to get up before handling the mass of clutter around you when you heard footsteps coming from behind. As you turned to the doorway, you saw Jake sauntering into the room. He tried and failed to hold back a laugh as he saw you on the floor.
“Had a little accident?” he asked as he moved to you. He continued to chuckle to himself as he grabbed boxes, carefully closing them and setting them aside in a neat pile.
You groaned. “I recall telling you not to come in here, Jake,” you said with a glare that would turn anyone else to ice but only made Jake smile wider.
“Oh, I’m sorry, princess,” he retorted, “Didn’t realize helping you was some sort of grand offense.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his remark. “I don’t need you to help me.” Your hands closed around the box he was holding, ripping it from his grip. The gesture caused him to let out a loud, irritated groan, which made you smile. It was a short-lived victory, though, as the contents of the box flew across your bedroom floor, spilling out pictures of you and Jake that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away quite yet. Mortified, you scrambled to pick up the photos before he even had the chance to see what they were.
It seems you weren’t fast enough, however, as Jake bent down, lifting up one of the snapshots, staying silent for a moment as he studied it. Finally, he spoke. “Looks like someone misses me,” he said, smirking down at you as he turned the photo around in his hands.
You quickly rose and snatched it from his hands. “Shut up. I was gonna throw that away, anyway,” you lied as you bent down to gather the polaroids that littered your floor, gracelessly shoving them back into their box.
He looked at you with a wide grin and crouched down to your level. “Hey, baby,” he cooed as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We had some good times together. I’m sure it’s a little hard to forget.” His hand reached out and slowly wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his touch searing hot on your skin.
“Well, those times are over, Jake. I moved on,” you answered as you ripped your hand free from his hold and got up from your place on the floor, desperate to distance yourself from him. You turned your attention to the rest of the clutter that littered your floor and pretended to be busy shoving hats and pieces from old Halloween costumes back into your closet.
“Then why are you hoarding a box of our old pictures, baby? Surely someone as strong as you wouldn’t have a problem tossing them out, hell, maybe even burning a few” he challenged. The tension in the room immediately thickened, and you stopped dead in your tracks. When you looked at him, his eyes met your own with an infuriatingly smug expression. He caught you off guard, and he knew it.
“I…,” your brain scrambled to find an answer, something to say to get him off of your case, to make him think that you had the upper hand, but words completely failed you. You stared at him blankly, your cheeks flushed and your lips parted.
He took a step towards you, and you could practically feel the space between you getting smaller with every movement. “And another thing,” he started, “if you’re so ‘over me’, then how come you can’t keep your eyes off of me? I saw how you were staring at me in the kitchen. Don’t deny it, babe.”
You swallowed thickly as he looked expectantly at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered out, and you hoped with everything in your being that he believed you.
A small “tsk” fell from his lips as he shook his head at you. “Lying’s not gonna get you what you want, princess,” he teased, his hand reaching out to rest along your neck, his thumb grazing your skin carefully.
You pulled back from his touch and glared at him. “I don’t want anything from you, Jake. Not unless it involves you leaving this apartment and staying out of my life forever,” you seethed, trying to keep your voice even.
“I don’t believe you,” he answered, a sly grin on his face, “But you’re a big girl. It’s your call. Just look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me. You do that, and I’ll be gone. That’ll be that.” He eyed you intensely, and you could feel the heat in your face rise. He was challenging you, daring you to deny him, and despite your pride and your anger, you just couldn’t do it.
You stared at him in silence, fighting against your mind and heart until a small, pitiful, “…Jake,” fell from your lips in a whimper.
He smirked and leaned forward. His hand wrapped firmly around your waist while the other gripped the back of your neck, pulling your face until it was an inch away from his. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered as he crashed his lips onto yours.
An uncontrollable sigh of relief escaped you as your fingers came up to lace through his hair. You wasted no time breathing in his scent and melting into his touch. You spent so much time holding onto the hatred and hurt you felt that you forgot how badly you wanted him. You forgot how good he could be.
His touches were hungry and impatient. His hands gripped your flesh roughly, pulling you close and leaving bruises in his wake. You moaned and gasped against him as his kisses consumed you, all teeth and tongue and aggression. He was beyond lingering feelings and simple desire. His thoughts of you in this moment were consumed by a hungry, insatiable need.
Your hands moved to grip his, pulling them toward your center. You felt his calloused fingertips toy with the hem of your panties that peeked out from under your jeans, but they remained there. You whimpered in frustration, trying to move his touch further down, but you felt him resist, and it was clear that this was going to be happening on his terms.
“What do you want, baby?” he breathed out between kisses, “Tell me. Use your words.” He smirked at you through half-lidded eyes, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.
Your cheeks flushed at his words, but, eager to get what you wanted, you swallowed your pride, mumbling softly, “I want you to touch me, Jake. Please.” Your eyes met his, desperate and pleading, but you could tell by his returning gaze that this wouldn’t be so easy.
His lips quirked up in a smug grin as his eyes raked over you, taking in the obscene beauty of your swollen lips and red cheeks. “Aw, is that what you want, honey? My touch? You want my fingers on you, in you?” he asked, his voice teasing.
You nodded timidly, hoping that he would show you a little mercy and give in to your desires, but you knew that was just wishful thinking.
He smirked wickedly at you. “Alright, princess. Then apologize,” he commanded.
A small squeak of disappointment left you. “...Apologize?” you asked, confusion and frustration coloring your voice.
He nodded, “Mhm. Tell me you’re sorry, and then I’ll maybe give you what you want.” You could feel his fingers fidgeting with the elastic of your underwear, making you restless beneath him.
“…Jake,” you whined, “please…” Your eyes bore into his, hoping desperately that he’ll give in and spare your ego, but as his hands slowly began to pull away from you, and he gave his head a small shake of disapproval, your desire overtook your pride.
You grabbed his hand, pulling it back to your skin. “Wait,” you whimpered. A small, ragged breath fell from your lips. “I’m sorry.”
A slow, mischievous grin bloomed on his face. “Sorry for what, princess?” he asked. You could tell how much he was enjoying torturing you, and it only made you want him more.
You let out a pitiful whimper as apologies tumbled from your lips before your brain could stop them. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m sorry for playing so hard to get, for being so mean to you, for starting all those fights with you. It was stupid, and I was selfish. I should have known better. I should’ve known that you’re the one for me. Only you. I’m sorry, baby.”
His eyes were blown with lust as he listened to your words. You were so fucking obedient, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t drive him wild. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a rough, hungry kiss before pulling back and whispering into your ear, “Only because you said it so sweetly, princess.”
In a flash, his fingers pushed past your hemline and started massaging your aching core. A loud cry of relief fell from your lips, and your nails left small crescent marks on his biceps as you clung to him. Your lips latched to his neck, leaving feverish kisses and small bites along the exposed skin of his throat. You were sure they would turn into small bruises by the morning, but you didn’t care. The feeling of his fingers working against you awoke a hunger deep inside you that hadn’t existed before or after him. “Oh, Jake,” you whined, “I missed you, baby”
A dark chuckle left his throat as he nodded. “I know, baby. I know,” you heard him coo, “Gonna make it all better, alright?” The pace of his fingers increased, curling deep inside of you.
You sobbed weakly, your head nodding along to his words, too far gone to process anything he said. Your head found its way against his shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of his neck as your body trembled under his touch. His movements were relentless, and you knew that he was doing all he could to send you over the edge, to remind you how good he can make you feel.
His effort soon paid off as the familiar, aching pressure grew deep within you, signaling your inevitable climax. Your whimpers became louder and more desperate as you gripped him tightly and rolled your hips against him. Deep groans poured from him as he could no longer contain his own arousal at your blissed-out state. His breath was hot against your ear as he mumbled to you. “You close, baby? Gonna let go all over my fingers, huh? Just like you used to?”
His words alone sent you over the edge, your body crumpling against his as your climax hit you in a strong wave. A loud, pitiful whimper ripped its way from your throat, and his name fell from your lips in a sacred mantra as the edges of your vision began to blur. You screwed your eyes shut and continued to grind your hips against his palm in desperate rhythm as you rode out your high, only coming back to your senses as the blinding pleasure subsided and finally left your body. As your eyes fluttered open, you lifted your head and saw the unmistakable look of satisfaction painted on Jake’s features. He held your gaze as he removed his fingers from you, earning a small whine in response. You watched wordlessly as he brought the digits to his lips and wrapped his tongue around them. His eyes drifted shut as he sucked on them, letting out a deep sigh as he pulled the fingers out of his mouth. “Just as sweet as I remember,” he teased.
Your hands flew to his neck, pulling him close in a deep hungry kiss. You tugged at his hair, and a grin pulled onto your lips as you heard him moan against you. His lips were soft as they worked in tandem with your own, and you could feel his hands roughly gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressed firmly onto your thigh, a gasp falling from your lips in an uncontrollable reaction. In response, he ground his hips harder against you and moved his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you close as he growled into your ear, “You feel that, baby? You feel what you do to me?”
Before you could stop yourself, a loud, high-pitched whimper escaped your throat, and your head nodded in a silent answer to his question. A smirk appeared on his face as he looked at you, his eyes dark and full of lust. Only ten minutes earlier you would’ve wanted to wipe that look off of his face, but now you were casting all grudges aside, leaving hot kisses along his neck and down the exposed skin of his chest that peeked through his half-open shirt as you trailed lower down his body. Your hands moved to the waistband of his pants, moving to unbuckle his belt until his hand closed around your wrists, stopping your movements. “Uh-uh, princess,” he chided, “I don’t think so.”
You looked up at him, your brows knitting in confusion. “You don’t want…?”
“Oh, I do,” he answered with a dark chuckle, “but I think there’s something I want even more.” His eyes met yours, and a devilish grin played across his features as he moved his body forward, guiding you backward until you felt the back of your knees touch your bed. Your eyes flit up to his as you carefully lay against the bed. You brought your hands up to the hem of his shirt, allowing your fingertips to graze his lower stomach as he leaned over you, his hands planted on either side, caging you in. He smirked at your actions and looked down at you. “Want me to take this off?” he asked, his fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt.
You nodded shyly and gave him a quiet “please” in response as you held his gaze expectantly.
He laughed softly and smirked down at you. “All you had to do was ask, princess,” he cooed as he moved back to stand at the edge of the bed and made quick work of his shirt, allowing you to bring your hands up and push it off of his shoulders. Your eyes hungrily wandered the canvas of his bare torso, and you forgot any possible notions of being resentful towards him. With a gentle hum, you brought your hands out to touch him, his stomach twitching slightly as your fingernails grazed his tender flesh.
“Somebody’s sensitive, huh?” you teased as your eyes moved to meet his, your gaze half-lidded.
His hands quickly and firmly wrapped around your wrist, stopping your movements and removing the smug grin from your face. “Watch it, princess. Don’t wanna bite the hand that feeds you,” he warned, “Now, you wanna finish what you started?” His gaze drifted down to his belt buckle, and you wasted no time in reaching out. Your fingers fumbled with the leather strap until you finally undid it, quickly moving to the buttons of his jeans and undoing them. Soon after you had pulled down his zipper and began to shove the fabric down his legs. He quickly kicked them off, leaving him in only his underwear. Your eyes wandered to the significant tent in his boxers, and you couldn’t help the hot flush that crept upon your cheeks.
Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Jake, who let out a satisfied chuckle. His fingers moved to your shirt, toying with the hemline as he met your gaze, silently asking for permission. You nodded, and he made quick work of your top as he pulled it over your head and tossed it to the far corner of your bedroom. Impatient, you started to work on your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them. Jake laughed wickedly as he grabbed the rough denim and yanked it down your legs. “Feeling eager, baby?” he teased.
Shamelessly, you nodded in response. “I need you, Jake,” you whimpered, grabbing his hips and pulling him forward, grinding your clothed sex upon his own to further emphasize your point.
A deep, guttural moan left his lips as he pressed himself against you. “God, you’re gonna be the fucking death of me,” he murmured, letting out a shaky breath before he wrapped his arms around your back, unhooking your bra and casting it aside. His fingers came to your chest, hungrily grabbing and pawing at your tender breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers and drawing steady, high-pitched moans from you.
“Jake…” you finally whimpered out, your breath heavy and labored, “please, baby… I need you now.” Your fingertips wandered to the hem of his boxers, carefully dipping below the fabric and grazing his sensitive skin.
He let out a shaky moan before nodding his head. “Alright. I hear you, baby,” he cooed, “I ain’t gonna make you wait any longer.” He pulled his boxers down, freeing his hard length. Your mouth practically watered at the sight as he moved forward, carefully sliding your panties down your legs and throwing them to the side. He took himself in his hand, stroking his shaft as he lined himself up with your entrance. “You ready, baby?” he asked, “Gonna take all of me, just like you always did?”
Helpless and desperate beneath him, you nodded, shifting your hips forward in anticipation. As he finally pushed himself through your wet folds, your head fell back in pleasure and a loud cry of relief left your lips. You gripped his biceps tightly as you moaned out, “Oh, Jake… fuck, baby…”
He let out a mix between a chuckle and a moan as he finally bottomed out inside of you. His fingertips dug into your hips as he held you there for a second before slowly sliding out of you and pushing himself back in again, slowly working towards building a steady pace. You continued to mewl and whine below him with every movement of his hips, and he looked down at you with nothing but all-consuming lust. “You like that, baby? Is it as good as you remember?”
His mocking words only spurred on your arousal as you nodded your head and wrapped your legs around his waist. “Mhm,” you cooed between moans and whimpers, “Still the best fuck I ever had.” The sound of skin slapping on skin began to fill the room as your hips began to roll forward, meeting his own in a desperate attempt to chase your already oncoming high.
A loud moan fell from his lips as his head fell forward and his grip on you became almost unbearably tight, sure to leave bruises in the morning. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he groaned as his hips picked up their pace, “That’s what I like to hear.” His thrusts were merciless, pounding into you with an unmatched ferocity.
Your moans echoed through the room as you reached the back of his neck and pulled him down to you. You caught his lips in a searing kiss, taking all the passion and pleasure that he had and giving it right back to him. Your fingers wound tightly in the locks of hair that hung at the back of his neck as you felt the familiar knot growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips began to buck into his wildly as your orgasm drew closer and closer. You pulled your lips away from his own for a moment to whimper softly to him.
“Jake, baby, I’m close. I’m so close,” you sobbed into the soft skin of his neck. Your words seemed to only heighten his arousal as he fucked into you even harder. He moved one of his hands to grab your own, holding it tightly.
He dipped his head down to the hollow of your ear, mumbling to you in a desperate stream of consciousness, “Fuck, I love you, baby. I never stopped. Tell me you love me, too. Tell me you love me while you come all over my cock, baby. Come on, lemme hear you say it.”
His moment of unmasked vulnerability threw you over the edge, your own hold on his hand tightening as you cried out. “Oh, Jake… Jake, I love you. Fuck, I love you… love you so much, baby,” you whined as you buried your face into him, taking on each wave of pleasure as his hips thrusted into uncontrollably until they finally stilled as he climaxed, spilling his seed deep inside of you.
Your name was the only thing on his lips as he finally pumped into you slowly a few more times, riding out what was left of his high. He fell on top of you, his body spent. You sighed softly as his lips delicately traced the skin of your neck, ghosting along the hickeys already forming there.
“Love you, baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.
You looked at his face, feeling nothing but pure adoration as you answered him quietly, “I love you, too.”
You laid that way with him until the both of you drifted off into a deep sleep. You knew that you would have a lot to discuss in the morning, but in that moment, everything felt okay, and as you looked down at Jake’s sleeping form, you knew that that was more than enough
taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13 (send me an ask/dm me if you wanna be added to my taglist!!)
#mal writes#jake kiszka x you#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka x y/n#jake kiszka#jake gvf#gvf fic#gvf smut
211 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Girl
soft!Joel Miller
Summary: Hi! I don’t write much and I don’t write often, but once an idea takes hold of me, I can’t help it! So here’s this. It’s 1995; and Joel, Tommy and Sarah have been invited to their new neighbourhood’s barbecue. Joel is a little.. nervous.
Notes: Short but (hopefully) sweet! Apologies again if any cultural references are wrong, and I’m using the timeline set by the show. No outbreak is ever going to happen here! I just love soft, domestic Joel and his little family so much. Based on the HBO series characters.
Warnings: Fluff, a little bit sad, swearing, mentions of pregnancy and mental health issues, mentions of parent death (briefly, not Sarah’s mother). I hope that’s everything!
Joel adjusted his shirt collar in the reflection of his bathroom mirror, tugging anxiously at the fabric, anticipating Tommy’s joking remarks about how uncomfortable he looked. Ever since Denise had mentioned the neighbourhood barbecue a few weeks back he’d been dreading it, and the day had finally come. They’d only moved to the street six months ago, and today was the proper initiation.
Not that he didn’t get along with his neighbours; the community was great already, lots of parents sharing school-drop offs, collection from various soccer practices, and helping out in the evenings if parents had work or social commitments. Which Joel did, a lot of the time - specifically, work. He couldn’t remember when he last did anything remotely social.
Tommy was the bigger butterfly out of the two. Joel was happy to hang back and let his baby brother do the introductions; his hands firmly planted on his little girl’s shoulders as he stood shifting nervously from foot to foot, anticipating the hushed questions and raised eyebrows. He knew their family dynamic was a little unusual, but damn, everybody had seen Full House, right?
Truth was, Joel never really had an answer ready when he was approached about Sarah’s mom. She was six now, growing faster and more curious every day. He would never want his daughter to be subjected to petty gossip, so he was pretty closed off in his responses. ‘It’s always just been the three of us’, Joel would smile tightly if someone tried to pry, Sarah’s emotions far more important to him than being known as a grouch.
Sure, Joel would tell Sarah, when she was ready and he felt she was old enough. It was gonna break him; he could feel it already, her big brown eyes filling with tears and squeezing the breath out of him, wondering why her mom wasn’t around. And he’d tell her; she was sick, baby. It wouldn’t have been fair on either of you. Which was true, because she had been.
Melissa hadn’t been ready, and hell if Joel was, either; they were fooling around, both 22-years-old and dumb as shit. It was too late to do anything by the time she’d realised she was pregnant, and Joel felt his life sliding away from him, like a cliff disintegrating into the ocean. Sure, he’d like a kid one day, but now?! Fast forward to the day Sarah arrived, and his future was sewn up. The minute she gripped his pinky tentatively and blinked up at him slowly with his own brown eyes, he was done for. She had Joel’s heart forever.
Melissa took off a few weeks later. They’d been staying with his parents, the atmosphere was claustrophobic at best. Joel knew she was struggling; he’d taken on the night feeds and was an expert with a diaper after the first few weeks, Melissa retreating to their bed and staying there for days on end. He tried in vain to help her, but she refused him at every turn. His momma broke the news to him after he’d come home from a twelve hour day on site, busting his ass to scrape cash together so his daughter could have the best.
Melissa had gone. Sarah was Joel’s responsibility now, she couldn’t be involved. It was making her ill. And that was that. Joel and Tommy bought their first house together a few years later; working all hours getting their contracting business off the ground, Joel’s sole motivation being Sarah’s health and happiness.
She’d wanted a pink bedroom and he’d done it for her; painting late into the night as she snoozed with Tommy on the couch downstairs. His back was creaking miserably like an old fuckin’ man, and his hands were worn in a way that should belong to someone far more advanced in years than he, but nothing in his soul would change that. Sarah was everything to him.
That’s why, Joel reasoned with himself now, it’s important to show up to events like this barbecue. He knew it meant a lot to his little girl; she inherited her talkativeness from her loving uncle, and there was no stopping the amount of friends she was collecting. Sarah had been babbling it about it all week, wanting to break out her best dress and new birthday sneakers.
Joel sighed in front of the mirror; trying to ruffle his black curls into some sort of submission when something caught his eye above his temple in the fluorescent lighting. A grey fuckin’ hair. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose, imagining the jokes Tommy would make if he saw. He was 28, dammit. Joel tried to envisage himself with silver streaks throughout his hair and the scruff along his jaw; that shit won’t suit me, he surmised. I’d be better off bald.
Half an hour later, and the three of them were walking across the road to Denise and Carl’s; Texas sun still high in the sky as Tommy carried the brisket like precious cargo, Joel with a case of beer, and Sarah with the sheet cake they’d made that morning under her arm.
Baking and cooking were some of their favourite things to do together; before his momma had died when Sarah was two, she’d insisted her grandbaby be fed well, and Joel knew he was a pretty decent cook. Tommy had snickered a few times at the sight of Joel in an apron, but not a sound was to be heard from him as he’d sit down and eat through hours of Joel’s labour. Typical baby brother behaviour.
Denise greeted them excitedly at the door, thanking them for their contributions and showing them to the backyard. Joel counted about seven different families in attendance: adults milling around the barbecue, younger kids jumping in the pool and the teenagers clustered around the boombox. He wasn’t sure where’d he fit, exactly; unlike his daughter, who sped off towards a group of girls practising a Mariah Carey track without a backwards glance at her daddy.
To Joel’s relief, the evening was relatively painless - Denise must’ve given the others a heads up about us, he mused as he pulled from his third beer, alcohol relaxing his bones. There hadn’t been a question - yet - about his parenting situation; rather, he and Tommy had gained a few potential clients: turned out the Adlers next door were dying for an attic conversion, and the Johnsons would love a bathroom remodel. He was doing good. Joel had surprised himself, smiling as he watched Tommy proving his one and only culinary talent - an expert on the barbecue.
The string lights overhead had begun to glow in an abundance, fiery orange in the setting sun. Denise had finally stolen the boombox from the teens, and had been steadily feeding it her collection of CDs as the night wore on. Joel turned his head as she stood up and clapped her hands, commanding the attention of all in the backyard as a relative hush fell. ‘This one’s real special to me,’ she smiled, indicating the song that had started softly playing - My Girl by The Temptations. ‘I’d like it if we could have a daddy-daughter dance,’ she announced, throwing her hand out to her own elderly father in his chair.
Joel felt himself tense up a little on the bench he was sitting on; fathers and daughters were coming together on the lawn with grins and laughter as the song went on. Sarah stood awkwardly as she eyed her father, knowing - even at six - that this wasn’t his bag. Tommy cleared his throat, indicating to Joel with a shake of his head that his daughter was waiting for him. Joel swallowed; he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. He was accomplished on the guitar, and could even hold a tune, but dance?
He glanced over at Sarah again; she was chewing her lip anxiously, her soft little hand was outstretched towards him, just like it was the day she was born. Joel heaved himself up and made his way over to her, picking her up easily in his arms. Ain’t no way he could say no to that face. Sarah’s countenance transformed; she grinned at her father, proudly showing off the first tooth she’d lost last week.
‘I’ve got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees’, Joel crooned softly into her ear, making her giggle as he swayed them together - the most dancing anyone would get out of him. She laid her head on his chest, her brown curls tickling his chin. He rubbed slow circles on her back; the way he always had done to soothe her when she got sick, or got the hiccups after Tommy gave her too much soda. ‘You enjoyin’ yourself, baby girl?’ He asked quietly, pressing a kiss to her hair. Sarah hummed in agreement.
‘Talkin’ ‘bout my girl,’ Joel sung quietly. Sarah turned in his grasp to look up at him. ‘Jessica doesn’t have a daddy,’ she murmured; looking over at a weepy little girl being comforted by a woman Joel assumed was her mom, rocking her back and forth in her lap. ‘That’s very sad, bug,’ he sighed, shifting Sarah in his arms to hold her a little closer; unable to help the comparison with Sarah’s lack of a mother, and wondering if his daughter was thinking the same thing.
‘I told her.. Maybe we could share, because I have the best daddy in the world. I told her that we could all make a pillow fort, because you make them the best - that would be okay, wouldn’t it, daddy?’ Sarah mumbled in earnest, splintering Joel’s heart in two. ‘Yes, baby, that would be okay,’ he choked, pressing another kiss to her hair. ‘That was very kind of you, Sarah,’ he murmured, amazed at her compassion, as the song drew to a close.
Sarah had taught him so much already in six short years; they had really been babies together at the start. Joel’s parenting journey hadn’t been easy, and he knew it would only undoubtedly get harder from here. Small wins, he said to himself, a reminder not to get stuck on the future; worrying about things he couldn’t possibly try to know. He was simply bursting with pride at the way Sarah had so earnestly decided he was the best daddy in the world. For now, that meant this - their life together - was enough. He was enough.
#just joel trying his best ya know#joel miller#sarah miller#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller the last of us#joel miller tlou#joel miller drabble#sarah miller the last of us#sarah miller tlou#tommy miller#tommy miller tlou#the last of us hbo#the last of us hbo fanfiction#my stuff
211 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you write an angsty Joel Miller x wife!reader were they have an argument and it's all abgsty and Joel yells at her and says mean things that make the reader cry and lock herself away. His words just break her completely emotionally like she'll become just a shell of herself for the next days or week and does nothing only stares out the window quietly and in thought and doesn't speak a single thing to Joel.
Make him see all this change in behavior of the reader and suffer and cry for making reader so sad.
Sorry English is not my first language but please make a happy ending 🙏🏽
— O’ CHILDREN
pairing(s); angry!joel miller x hurt/wife!female reader
wordcount; 1.2k words
warnings; angst, arguing/yelling, emotional breakdown!reader, mention of kids, swearing, happy ending.
proofread?; yess
note from author; first fix of the year, has to be MY HUSBAND!!!! & the accent makes me weak in my knees EVERYTIME!!!!
summary; you want to add to your future with joel but, he’s afraid to take that step. The possibility of losing someone else hurts too much.
You and Joel had been sitting on the couch, snuggling and watching a movie - something of which you couldn't remember the name. The past few weeks were rather difficult, you two had been talking about having children. Joel was 100% against the idea, and it was frustrating you that there was no communication. You stood from the couch to get a glass of water - hoping that would distract your thoughts.
Joel sat up immediately, causing the remote to fall off the couch. He groaned when he picked it back up to set it on the couches armrest. “Ar’ you alright darlin’?” He asked, with genuine concern. You took a sip of your water to calm yourself down. Your thoughts had been racing with the topic of children, you knew you wanted them - even in the apocalypse. But you also knew where Joel stood with that idea. You didn't want to start an argument but - you didn't want to lie to him either, when answering his question. “Not really.”
Joel sighed gently and got up to walk into the kitchen. He furrowed his brow and placed his hands on your shoulders gently. “What’s wrong?” He asked. You look up at him, shaking your head. “It’s going to start an argument.” You firmly stated.
Joel sighed softly, knowing the answer before you even said it. “It’s the kids thin’ again, isn't it?” You scoffed looking at him. His reaction wasn't handled well. “You say that like it's a bad thing.” Joel rolled his eyes. “It’ really that hard for you t’ understan’? We're not in a good enoug’ situation to have ‘em.”
You laughed, in more of a sarcastic way than intended. “We're never going to be in a good situation. Is that too hard for you to understand?” You mocked him, out of anger. Joel scowled at you, as you could feel his anger rising. You were pushing his buttons. “Don’t you dare get smart with me. Ya know damn’ well I'm right.”
You shake you're head at him again. “Well, I'm so sorry that I wanted to have a conversation about our future.” You moved past him towards the couch again. “Our future don’t involve kids.” He spat out. He had given no wiggle room, no room for you to even argue your point. “What ar’ we gonna’ do? Have a baby, fight infected an’ then take it t’ daycare?” He mocked you. “Gimme’ a break.”
You clenched your jaw as you got back off the couch, as quickly as you had sat on it mere seconds before. You turned on your heel, with tears fighting to fall. You weren't even mad about not having a baby - you were mad that he wouldn't even try to talk to you calmly about the situation . “I’m going to bed.”
“Fine.” He said, not even turning to face you. “You wanna keep bitchin’ and moanin’ - pushin’ everythin’ to the edge like you always do. Fine. Go sleep it off.” He was fed up with the conversation and he made it bluntly obvious. You glared at him on the stairs, tears now spilling. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You muttered and walked up the stairs, shutting the bedroom door. Joel flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, his face buried in his hands. He felt like a real ass for making you upset, but he didn't want to make the concession of saying so. He kept himself occupied with his thoughts, the guilt eating at his gut.
You slammed the door as tears fell from your eyes, you threw one of the pillows from your shared bed at the wall. Joel rubbed his temples as he heard you slam the door slam shut. He knew he should go talk to you, make things right…but maybe he should just let it blow over? The seemed like the better option.
︒✯⋅
You had been locked away in your bedroom for the night, and even part of the next morning - the only time you went downstairs, was to get food. Joel was up early, and the coffee he brewed was filling the house with the a pungent scent. He waited patiently for you to walk in the kitchen, if you would even come downstairs.
You hadn't slept that night, not after the arguing. You made your way downstairs, having smelt the coffee from the comfort of your warm bed. Your eyes were bloodshot and tear stained when you shuffled into the kitchen to grab your mug. You didn't say a word.
Joel looked at you, his hazel eyes trying to find yours. His expression was stoic, giving you no hint of his thoughts. But you could tell that he was feeling guilty. “Didn’t sleep well?” he asked, taking a sip of his own coffee. You poured your own coffee in silence.
Joel noticed you didn't respond, not that he expected less. “I was kinda a dick last night, wasn't I?” You still didn't respond as you turned to lean your waist on the counter. “I should've acted mor’ maturely. I was jus’ frustrated, is all.” Joel said, hoping that you would say something…anything.
You looked at him over your mug. “I'm not even upset with the fact that you don't want kids,” you started. “I'm upset that you don't communicate calmly with me.”
Joel sighed, not wanting to admit his fault. “Maybe I have a temper I should work on.” He paused. “It’s jus’ that ya won't let it go.”
You took a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking. “I'm sorry for pushing it.” You added. “I just want to experience a normal life with you - something we don't have often.” You put your mug down behind you and stepped forward. “I love you, you know?”
Joel couldn't help but smile at that. You loved him, and he loved you. “I know ya do, I love ya too.” He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you against him. You sighed into his chest. Your eyes were still red and puffy from a night of crying, but being in Joel’s arms again made you feel calmer. “No kids then?” You tried to joke lightly.
Joel laughed softly, rubbing your back. “No kids.” He kissed your forehead, then spoke again. “Besides - what makes ya think we'd be good parents? Can hardly cook a decent dinner.” This comment made you chuckle, and you needed one after the night you had. “You’re the one eating all the ravioli cans.” You teased before yawning, the lack of sleep catching up to you.
He laughed, looking at you softly. “Ya should get some sleep, ya look like hell.”
You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “And here I thought you'd tell me how beautiful I am - at least after an argument.” You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Let’s both go to sleep, the couch must've been uncomfortable.”
Joel chuckled again, taking your comment as the teasing it was. “Sorry, but ya look like a mess.” He teased, caressing your face lovingly. He took hold of your hand and led you up the stairs to your shared room - falling right on the bed next to you.
read my merged works here!
#writing#reqs open#request#oneshot#headcanon#the last of us part two#the last of us part 2#joel the last of us#the last of us#joel tlou#joel x reader#joelmiller#joel miller#joel miller is still hot when he’s sad#joel miller makes me feral
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you write a fic about reader introducing Rocket into the BDSM lifestyle. (I feel like the concept of BDSM is a Terran thing)
The set up is Rocket and reader are just starting to get physically intimate in their relationship and the topic of “what do you like to do in bed” comes up. It’s during this conversation that reader admits that she’s into BDSM and she explains what that involves and what she likes and dislikes.
And while listening to her talk, Rocket discovers something new about himself (if you get what I mean 😈).
Eventually, reader looks over to see Rocket honed in on everything she’s saying and she asks;
“Do you wanna try it, Captain~?”
HAHAHA DID YOU GET THE ‘CAPTAIN’ PET NAME FROM MY FIC I AM SO SORRY
Okok, in any case I shall deliver!! I hope you don’t mind me making this into a ficlet :DD sometime in the future if I’ve got nothing I might write it into a full length fic, but I hope this will do for now <33
But anyway, I’m not very experienced in BDSM so sorry if this isn’t up to your expectations!
Also, side note, I know handcuffs used in bed usually have a soft texture to them but I’m gonna use regular ones since I imagine those types of handcuffs are strictly a Terran thing and the fic takes place in Knowhere.
credit me if you use this gif! / masterlist! / request stuff <3
The orange hues of Knowhere skies stained the walls of your room as you laid limp and just breathing. That was all you could afford to do after the brain shattering sex you’d had with your … sexual partner. That was what you were going to call it for now, you decided.
He had just come out of the bathroom after cleaning up his mess on your bed and on your stomach when he popped the question.
“What do you like to do in bed?”
You scoffed the moment the question registered in your head.
“We’ve done this like what, seven times? You know what I like in bed,” you said, propping your back upwards and setting the pillows higher so you can sit.
“You don’t expect me to believe you’re a vanilla baby, do you?” Rocket cocked a brow at you.
The realization hit you harder than the orgasm did.
Well no, maybe not, the orgasm was way too good.
But it was comparable nonetheless, because what followed the realization was a bubbling pit of shame stirring in your gut as you withdrew your legs into your duvet.
“You wouldn’t wanna know,” you began with a breathy laugh. “Besides, I come like three times before you even get to the verge of coming. The sex is already good.”
“If you’re into something that we’re not doing, it could be better,” he reasoned, giving a slow shrug before his hands fell into his pockets. He looked so damn good in cargo shorts, whoever allowed this man to look so sexy even in loose clothing?
You let out an audible sigh, letting your shoulders slump forward.
You slide out of bed and turn on your computer. Rocket leans into your chair as you type the words ‘BDSM’ in the search engine. You specifically click on Terra’s search results for the term.
You watch as Rocket’s eyes narrowed, eyes searching through the various images before they widened.
“Oh,” he murmured.
You rolled your lips into a thin line.
“Yeah, it’s not—we don’t have to—”
“Wait, so what exactly is BDSM?” He asked, turning to you. His eyes glimmered under the low lights of the apartment and he waited for your answer even when you just stared at him.
“Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, Masochism,” you listed. “It’s a very tiring kink so it’s fine if you don’t want to—”
“Bondage, I’m assuming is all the rope stuff,” Rocket thought aloud, eyes shifting back to the screen for a brief moment before turning back to you. “Discipline … stuff like not letting you come? Punishment, and shit like that?”
Your jaw dropped. Even your eyes were hesitant to blink at the fear that when you do, Rocket will be ready with a whip and some rope on your bed.
You say fear, but when you put one leg over the other in your seat, your lips slipped over each other from the lubrication that dripped out of you.
“Yeah but the ropes are really complicated to tie—”
“Princess, you’ve gotta be kidding,” Rocket scoffed with a grin pulling one corner of his lip up. “Have you seen the shit I make? This is nothing compared to that. Besides, I’ve figured out all the knots already, I got this.”
Your heart swelled at the thought of Rocket restricting you. You swallowed dryly, licking your moist lips in hopes of reserving what little dignity you had left.
“Let’s start with something light, okay? Like maybe—maybe handcuffs,” you began with a shaky breath. You wondered if your excitement was radiating off of you and you prayed it hadn’t been the case because nothing was even happening. It had just been a long time since you’ve opened up to someone about this side of you.
“Sure,” Rocket agreed. “Besides, I spank you enough already, don’t I?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled. Lowering your forehead to your desk as you could feel your hand shaking from the thoughts alone.
“I left my handcuffs back at my apartment, I’ll go grab them.”
You grabbed Rocket’s wrist, making him turn to look at you.
You smirked.
Your other hand reappeared from under the table to reveal a pair of thin metal handcuffs, and you dropped one of them to let it dangle in the air.
“Shall we try it, Captain?”
Thank you for reading <33
// tip jar. commission me for art/fanfic <33
#rocket raccoon#guardians of the galaxy#gotg#rocket raccoon x you#gotg fic#gotg fanfiction#gotg vol 3#rocket gotg#rocket raccoon x reader#gotg vol. 3#gotg vol 2#.alias.inbox.request.#.alias.drabbles.imagines.
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
replicant
1982!rick deckard x reader
note: rewatched blade runner 1982 and wrote this! might be one of my fav things i’ve written besides my ‘i know’ han fic! i kinda wanna write a part two, so if you’re interested in reading one, let me know!
“i’m not taking that goddamn test, deckard.”
“i’m not pressuring you too.”
“but you are.” you snapped, rising from the bed, collecting your discarded clothes from the floor, “you keep insinuating shit, i’m sick of this. i am not a replicant.” you snarled, pulling on your undergarments and deckard’s oversized shirt.
the man jumped out of the bed, retrieving his boxers from his side, pulling them on quickly. he then rushed towards you, his hand gripping your wrist as he whirled you around to face him.
“don’t leave.”
“i’m not gonna sit here and be berated by you.” you snapped, yanking your hand away, “i’m not some fucking replicant.”
“then take the test.”
“and why would i do that? this isn’t a relationship, deckard. this is purely sex, i’m not supposed to be emotional and open about it.” this was all it was. casual. the whole point of casual sex was to go without feelings.
“it’s my job to know, okay? i used to do this professionally.” you shook your head, “well if you used to do this professionally then why the hell can’t you tell by my eyes or some shit? you’ve known me for two goddamn years, you think that i’d have known by now if i wasn’t human?”
you had memories. why wouldn’t you be human?
“then just take the test.”
“you take the test!”
“i will if you do.” you were now caught in a trap. you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “fine. i’ll take your stupid test.” the man seemed satisfied, beckoning you over to the kitchen table, “hit the blinds, will you?” you nodded, walking towards the windows, pressing your hand against the button.
the blinds automatically were pulled down, leaving the room cloaked in darkness. deckard had his setup ready now. you exhaled deeply, walking towards the table, taking a seat across from him.
he cleared his throat, “alright, this is how this is going to work-“
“i know how it works.” you snapped, fiddling with the ends of deckard’s old shirt, “just ask the damn questions.”
and so he began. “it’s your birthday. someone gifts you a calfskin wallet.”
“i return it. i already have a wallet.” you replied.
“you become pregnant by a man who runs off with your best friend, and you decide to get an abortion.”
“i wouldn’t get an abortion. my best friend can go fuck herself. i’d keep the kid.”
“you’re watching television. suddenly you realize there’s a wasp crawling on your arm.”
“i’d kill it.”
“you’re reading a magazine. you come across a full-page nude photo of a girl. you show it to your husband. he likes it so much, he hangs it on your bedroom wall.”
“why would i like it? i’m not a lesbian. i’d leave him. i should be enough.”
the questions continued on. you were giving suitable answers in your opinion. and you could only hope they’d suffice.
you couldn’t be a replicant… could you?
no. it wasn’t possible.
not when you were in love with the man you’d been sleeping with for over a year. a replicant wouldn’t be able to feel love, right?
the questions were over quickly. and so you sat, fiddling with the fabric of the shirt, awaiting his response.
slowly, he rose from his seat. you frowned, “deckard?”
he backed away slowly, almost cautiously, turning his back to you. you found yourself standing from your seat, uneasy breaths slipping past your lips. “rick?”
that was the first time you’d used his first name in a long time.
“rick?” you asked again. “what is it?”
you couldn’t be a replicant. you couldn’t. it wasn’t possible.
your lips quivered, “dammit rick, what is it?!” you exclaimed, your voice echoing throughout the empty apartment.
slowly, he turned to you. and only then did you take notice of the weapon in his hand. your eyes softened, “rick..” you mumbled, flooding with emotion.
“please..”
you took a step towards him, “don’t do this.” you begged, your voice cracking slightly.
you watched the internal struggle written on his face. he didn’t want too. rick deckard despite his best efforts had found himself falling for you.
and this was the last thing he wanted to do.
his adam’s apple bobbed as he raised his weapon, his hand trembling.
“please…” your voice was soft, fragile, “i-i love you.”
a single tear slipped down his cheek, his eyes closed for a moment, his face screwed up in emotion. “don’t say that.”
“i do. i love you, deckard.” you repeated, as if saying it would change your fate.
“stop it.” he whispered.
“please-i’ll-i’ll run. i’ll go and i’ll never turn back… deckard please.” you begged, eyes stinging with tears.
he opened his eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes that you loved so dearly were glossy with tears. and you accepted that if this was to be your fate… at least you’d be looking at what you loved most.
“i’m sorry-“
“i love you.”
#harrison ford#harrison ford x reader#harrison ford movies#indiana jones#indiana jones x reader#han solo x reader#young harrison ford#han solo#star wars#rick deckard#blade runner 1982
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Secret Bonus October Drabble: Cider
Pairing: Steddie
Wordcount: 500
Additional tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, my first time writing for this ship, implied future sexytimes
Info: this was one of the random word drabbles (or attempts at drabbles) I wrote for October. This one, however, didn’t end up getting posted because I was unsatisfied with the end result. Especially because it was my first real attempt at writing for this ship. Since I’m working on putting the other drabbles into their own little fic for AO3, i figured I’d reread this one. And you know, it’s not actually too bad. Might put it in with the others in fact. Either way, it was just languishing away in my notes, not doing anything for anybody so… here we go!
———
At the first bite, Eddie made a face.
“Steve, babe, I think you cooked this cake a bit too long.”
Steve’s brow furrowed. “What? Is it too dry? It looked okay coming out…”
“No it’s-“ Actually perfectly moist, he thought. If it were any other flavor, he wouldn’t have said anything. But-“You let all the alcohol bake out of it.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s because there is no alcohol, dummy. I used the sweet cider instead.” At Eddie’s surprised look, he continued. “Like I was gonna serve the kids a boozy cake, come on now.”
“It matters to me! The taste is all wrong!”
“And what, exactly, is wrong with it?”
Eddie opened his mouth, but found that he had no actual reply. The cake, an experimental recipe from Steve, was absolutely delicious. A triumph. One they would likely be repeating for many a Fall season to come. And really, what his boyfriend said made sense. But Eddie was in a contradictory mood.
“Baking makes the alcohol content almost negligible, you know. It burns off.”
“Were you planning to get drunk off of a cake?” Steve’s eyes were twinkling despite his serious expression. He chose not to comment on Eddie avoiding his earlier question.
“No! I just-“
“Did you forget about the non-alcoholic stuff?” At that, Eddie pouted.
“No, quit teasing me.“
Steve took his own bite of the cake. Even though he’d had the chef’s privilege of tasting it at every stage of the process, he couldn’t help groaning in pleasure at the flavor.
Eddie was watching him quite intensely. He must have heard the noise Steve made. Which was fine by him.
“So tell me,” Steve said, speaking slowly. “Alcohol aside. What, exactly, is wrong with my cake?”
They stared each other down. Steve knew the answer was nothing. He’d just tasted the damn thing and it was perfect. But he also knew that Eddie, in addition to being stubborn to a fault, was very creative. If anyone could invent a problem that wasn’t actually there, it was him. After a few moments, however, the other man visibly deflated.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s delicious. You’ve outdone yourself, sweetheart.”
“That’s what I thought,” Steve leaned over to kiss Eddie’s cheek, right where he knew a dimple would be. His boyfriend looked away, obviously fighting a smile. “Don’t worry, big guy, I’ve still got plenty of the good stuff. Just for you.”
At that, Eddie turned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
Now he was fully smiling. “What kind of good stuff are we talking about?”
Steve took Eddie’s hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss on the knuckles. He then moved it to his hip where Eddie, ever bold, immediately reached a bit further back to grab a handful of his lover’s ample backside.
“All kinds of good stuff.”
Eddie growled, more of a purr actually, and pulled Steve closer. The hand on Steve’s ass squeezed tighter. “I like the sound of that.”
#steddie#drabble#minific#my stuff#my fic#writing is hard#secret fic that didn’t get posted#sweet fluffy nonsense#lol#Eddie just wanted a boozy cake#silly man
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
Urban making it official with reader after realizing other guys are shooting their shot with her?
i got a shot
(urban wyatt x reader)
bloos notes: sorry not sorry for writing coplean into this.
tag list: @creme-delacreme @harlowcomehome @sealpuptrash @moody4world @thinkingaboutjharlow @harlowsbby @charli123456789 @lcandothisallday @mx-daisy
one day you met jack and urban and they never let you go. you were stuck with them since that night at the park. so when jack made it big, he made it a point to bring you and urban along everywhere he went. through out those long years, you and urban became closer than ever. he began developing feelings for you, his best friend. you had a crush on him too but never told anyone because you were afraid that he wouldn’t feel the same. but everyone knew the two of you had feelings for each other.
on the other hand, urban had made it known to everyone, besides you, that the y/n l/n was going to be his one day. and so of course, the guys loved to rile urban up. at first it was just for jokes and urban brushed it off but as of lately it had been getting to him. maybe it was because you would flirt back.
the whole crew was hanging out at jack’s place and you had just made your way inside.
“hey boys how are y’all?” your voice echoed, urbans ears instantly perking up.
“damn y/n you gettin finer by the day” coplean spoke up. “cope don’t be gassing me up like that” you joked.
you decided to sit right next to urban, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he was easily flustered when it came to you.
“so when are you gonna let me take you out y/n?” jack teased, knowing it would get on urban’s nerves. urban watched you intently for your answer. “hmm jackman, i’m free any day of the week, you tell me when you’re free” you replied with a smirk.
at this point you knew why the guys were flirting with you, they had told you. so y’all decided to mess with urban a bit more, so you would flirt back with them.
urban shot a glare at jack the minute he asked you that question. you caught him. of course, druski had to chime in and flirt with you too.
“nah for real tho y/n i can show you a good time, fly you out to atlanta for a weekend. how does that sound ma?” dru asked. you pretended to think for a minute before replying, “hmm a weekend in the A does sound nice. doesn’t it urb?” you replied, turning your attention to the kentuckian next to you. “mhm” was all he said.
as y’all talked more, sunni had brought something up that sparked a fire in urban. “how was that date the other night y/n?” sunni asked. before you could even answer urban beat you to the punchline. “date? you had a date? with who?” urban asked, he felt as if his heart got ripped out of his chest.
“yeah i had a date. honestly it didn’t go well he was an asshole. he’s just not my type” you told the group. “so what is your type?” jack questioned.
“um well i like someone who’s nice, beautiful eyes, nice hair, funny, someone who gets along with my family and friends, oooo someone with nice lips” you listed.
“damn if i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re describing urb” cope joked, your face turning bright red. urban on the other hand was smiling to himself.
eventually you went to the kitchen to grab water, urban following you.
“hey urb you okay babes?” you asked him, he made his way closer to you.
“i got a shot don’t i y/n?” he questioned, his face just inches from yours, his arms snaking around your waist.
“you always had a shot urb. just wanted to see how long it took you to realize it” you said with a smirk.
he leaned in for a kiss and you happily leaned in as well. you could hear the guys cheering you two on from the living room.
“lemme take you on a proper date ma, lemme make you mine. tired of hearing their ugly asses tryna take you from me” he whispered
“i’m all yours urban”
#urban wyatt#urban wyatt fic#urban wyatt imagine#urban wyatt concept#urban wyatt x reader#urban wyatt x you#urban wyatt blurb#urban wyatt concepts
291 notes
·
View notes
Text
Body Guard!Postal 4 Dude x Reader
WARNINGS: Slight angst, mentions of a gunshot and stab wound, blood, OOC Dude (I’m far too dumb to get his personality right), rushed and shit writing
Word Count: 1449
A/N: It’s been a good while since I’ve written anything so I’m sorry if this turns out to be shit. And thanks to @strawbrygashez for inspiring me to take a stab at writing fanfiction again so I can write about two old people in love <3. And as an add-on, gonna have this take place after the events of Postal 4, primarily since I’m too lazy to look up the lore and try to remember everything about this game past Tuesday.
“Come in.”
You stared at the door as you heard a knock, assuming it was the new bodyguard your boss had sent you. You were due for a meeting with one of the people you work with in a few days, so your boss figured you’d need a bodyguard. She knows you’re able to fight and defend yourself if all goes to shit, but you’re getting up in age and figured extra help would be nice. Besides, having a bodyguard would be nice. At least for this job.
But with those thoughts finishing up, you saw a man enter your office. And to say the least, he looked like shit. Guy was in a purple bathrobe of all things and may as well just be wearing pajamas. And... are those socks with sandals?? But eh, whatever. Maybe this guy will be better aside from his appearance and god awful smell.
“I’m assuming you’re the bodyguard my boss hired?” You stared at him as you spoke, carefully studying the man as he sat down.
“Uh, yeah. That’s me, I guess.” He responded while glancing around the place, seemingly bored. And honestly, you don’t blame him. The place wasn’t too interesting, nor was the job. And for a man of his age from what little scraps of information you’ve gotten, the work would better be suited for someone younger. Or just someone with an actual interest.
“Mm, yep. Say, aren’t you just a tad too old to be working jobs like these? Or are you just doing this for fun while in retirement?” You continued staring at him while speaking, with the man quiet for a few seconds before laughing. “Man, you’re kind of funny. If that’s the case, wouldn’t you be too old for this kind of shit as well-?” He asked while looking at you, crossing his arms and seemingly enjoying the interaction between you two.
“Ah, I wish. That would be so damn good to just get some rest...“ You softly smiled at his words while thinking, but quickly returned to a more serious demeanor. “So, ‘Postal Dude’, right? Man, your parents must have hated you for that to be your legal name. And as an extra note, couldn’t you have come in something just a bit more professional? Plus, you smell like shit.” You kept examining him while questioning, wondering just why he had to come here dressed like that. What the hell does your boss see in this guy?
“Eh, don’t care much. Just here for some quick cash. And yeah, guess my parents really did. But eh, at least the names a bit funny.”
With his answer you just sighed, getting up from your desk and placing a hand on his shoulder as you headed towards your door. “It’s almost lunch, so I’ll be going now. But, for the day that you do start working with us make sure you actually smell good. And try to dress at least decently. I don’t want to be seen with a guy that goes to work in a bathrobe.” And without further words you walked out to grab lunch, not bothering to let him ask for anything further.
For now, until the job was over the two of you were stuck with each other. And after the job, you two were still stuck.
Surprisingly, he did a really good job. And so, your boss permanently hired him for the rest of your work. At first it definitely wasn’t the best, but thankfully you two actually managed to become friends, and your work is now just more enjoyable. Hell, you even managed to gain a little crush on the guy. It was confusing as hell, but you already knew the feelings weren’t mutual.
Especially now that you’re dying in an alley.
Hah... how could a simple smoke break jump to you being attacked by three guys looking to take your shit? God, the world is so shit. And now because of a simple smoke break, you had a gun wound near your side and a deep stab wound in your thigh. Maybe even a badly bleeding cut near your neck. Not even mentioning all the other less deep stab wounds closer to areas considered fatal and all the little cuts constantly stinging. Either way, you’re bruised quite badly, your face is bloodied to high hell, and you’re bleeding out.
“Heh... this sucks.” You quietly muttered to yourself, holding to your bleeding side and trying to keep all the blood in. If you’re lucky, maybe Dude would find you. Maybe he would save you. But, you already knew that was a hopeless possibility. Life isn’t a fairytale, after all. It’s shit, and people die. And now, you were about to be one of those people.
God knows how long you just sat surrounded by trash and your own blood. You could already tell that your vision was slowly going black and fading. Guess this dingy alley is where you’d die, huh? Too bad you never got to tell Dude about your little crush on him. Too bad you never got to say proper goodbyes to what family you have left, both biological and found. Too bad you never got to finally retire.
But none of that mattered now. Your consciousness was quickly slipping, and your body slowly went limp. And as the black void nearly consumed your vision, you heard a voice yelling out for you, with both the voice and rapid footsteps quickly coming closer. It was Dude’s voice. But, none of it mattered anyways. At least he was willing to help you, even if you were on your dying breath.
But just maybe, you managed to live. It’s a surprise to be sure, but a pleasant one. And speaking of pleasant surprises, you slowly woke up and softly hissed at the bright lights, having to take a while to adjust to the sheer white.
“Jesus, I thought I lost you!”
At the words you slowly looked over to your right, beholding a noticeably concerned Dude sitting by your side. Did he really wait here the whole time?
“Dude-? Did you really wait for me?” You asked while quietly chuckling, with Dude blushing a small but noticeable shade of red. Huh, weird.
“Hah, you look cute when you blush.” You chuckled again, enjoying his reactions before he gently grabbed your hand, wearing a concerned expression.
“C’mon, quit joking around. You could’ve died y’know. Tch, you’re a fucking dumbass.” As he spoke his voice was laced with concern, with his eyes constantly darting around. Even with his sunglasses on, it was noticeable as all hell. “Damn, you sound so sappy. It’s disgusting, stop that.” You joked while playfully hitting his shoulder, doing what you could to cheer him up and keep yourself calm at the same time. But well, it wasn’t quite working for either of you.
“Besides, why do you care so much? Not like you’re in love with me or anything.” You continued joking around, but his awful silence and growing blush certainly said another story. “You’re not actually in love with me, right?”
For a good while he remained silent before smirking, quietly laughing as he put an arm around your shoulder, mindful of your wounds. “Of course I am, and I know you are too. What, don’t think I’d notice the little crush you had on me?”
And now was your turn to become flustered. Has it really been so noticeable the whole time? But either way even with his words, you were simply glad that your feelings were mutual. And for the first time in a while, just glad to be alive.
“Well, I’m glad those feelings are mutual.” You softly chuckled before gently grabbing his chin, moving a few loose gray hairs out of the way while admiring his cute ass face. “May I?”
“Of course, my love.”
And with his confirmation, the two of you shared a kiss. And honestly, it was better than you thought. On both ends it remained soft and satisfying, lasting for as long as it needed until the two of you pulled away from each other. The slightly dazed look resting upon his face was certainly a sight to behold.
“You look so fucking cute, y’know that?” You softly smiled at him and his dazed face, with him doing the same. “And so do you, my love. God, I love you so fucking much.” And with his response you continued smiling, resting your forehead against his own. The moment was so nice. It was so peaceful. And the two of you never wanted it to end.
“I love you so much, Dude.”
“Hah... love ya too, my dear.”
#postal#postal 4#postal dude#postal dude x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#slight angst#not proofread in the slightest#didn't end up studying for a math test tomorrow so hopefully you guys think this is at least decent#it's been a damn good while since i've written anyways#maybe i should do that more#either way enjoy old fuckers in love
59 notes
·
View notes
Note
MC using a spray bottle on the S-Ranks when they misbehave. I just wanna see Guy SOPPING WET
HOLY FUCK I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I LITERALLY HAVE NO CONCEPT OF TIME(I was also busy and being a lazy bi-)
Ok so like, they might not be 100% what you asked for but I’m the writer so I’ll write these the best I can haha-(Please don’t hate me)
I’m also not very good at their wording(or writing haha-) and how they act so please forgive me for any inaccuracy-
Warning: Not proof read(mostly)
--------------------
Fenn.
It was a surprisingly normal day today, I grabbed my bag(That's a surprise tool that will help us later-), went to class, talked with Sherry and Rio, and now it's almost lunch time.
"Treasureeee" Oh god not this again, of course it can't be a normal day. What was I thinking? I feel an arm go around my waist into a half hug.
"Afternoon, Fenn." I say.
"Treasure, what say you spend time with me during lunch? I promise I'll make it worth your while." I feel his hand lower and grab my ass.
"Fenn." I stare at him and get ready to grab the little surprise tool in my bag. I take out the spray bottle and give him a spray from it. Haha now his face and hair is wet.
Fenn pouts, "You're no fun," He lets go of me and puts his hands back and wipes his face. "Is that a no to the lunch offer?"
I cross my arms, "It's very much a no."
"Well, the offer still stands if you change your mind." He winks at me then leaves, for the time being at least.
Guy
(I don't have many ideas after this so please forgive me)
(some of you are gonna hate me for how long this is gonna be so I'm sorry)
I was talking to another student about something in class they had a problem with. Why did they ask me? I have no idea. From what they said, I understood it better than they did and the professor left before they could ask any questions after class. Oh yeah and they were also acting very nervous around me.
He listened to me intently, taking notes, even! I actually kinda liked this feeling, it felt like I was the teacher for once! I continued to answer any questions the dude had about the topic until he suddenly looked really nervous as I felt someone loom over me.
"I- I think I got it now, thank you!"
"Wait but I wasn't done-" Aaaaand the student ran away. I looked behind me to see Guy standing over me. "Did you need something?"
"Why were you talking to that student?"
"He was asking a question about a lecture me and him had."
Guy scowls, "He should have asked the professor or asked someone else."
"The professor had to leave so he couldn't ask any questions." I answered.
"He clearly asked for other reasons. You're mine, I won't let anyone else take you." His "You're mine" comments really aggravate me. Was this the only reason he wanted to talk to me?
"I don't belong to anyone," I glared. "Was that all?"
He huffed and grabbed my arm, not rough enough to hurt me though. "Come with me." He pulled me towards the direction of the dorms and I soon got tired of trying to get out of his grip. When we got to his room, he finally let go of me and sat down.
"Gotta really appreciate the consent in bringing me here". I said sarcastically. "What did you bring me here for anyways?" he huffs and doesn't say anything. I roll my eyes, I swear to god he really needs to learn to communicate with others. An idea suddenly pops in my head and I grab the spray bottle.
"Communicate." sprits "Your," sprits "Emotions." sprits
For a moment he looked shocked then glared at me and grabbed my spray bottle and sprayed me with it. Oh boy this was gonna be fun.
(Sorry I had to make this a little light hearted haha- please don't hate me)
Toa
Lectures were going on and at the moment Toa is my professor.
GOD DAMN IT WHY WON'T THIS WATER TURN INTO WINE, IF JESUS COULD DO IT SO CAN I
I continued to try and concentrate on turning the water into wine but I feel the judgment of someone staring at me and it temps me to look to the side of where the feeling is radiating off of and I see- HOLY FUCK IT'S TOA. I jump in my seat because he's literally standing next to me and I didn't even hear him or see him.
We continue staring at each other until I decide to break the silence. "Do you need something...?"
"How is it that you've done everything else correct but doing something as simple as turning water into wine?" He asks. Wow thanks for announcing that to the class. How about you tell me how a car is made now?
I shrug, "I don't know, I just can't seem to do it." I hear some students snickering.
Toa sighs, "Speak to me after class." And with that, class continues...
After the bell rings, I grab my stuff and walk to the front of the class and to Toa. It’s a shame this is my last class, I could have used the excuse of saying I need to get to my next class then say I forgot about him wanting to talk to me.
“Since you appear to be unable to do the assignment, I will be having you practice here until I excuse you.” Hey, at least it’s not him having me read tons of books. That memory gives me war flashbacks...
“At this point, I don’t even know I can do it anymore. I’ve tried countless times and-”
“I didn’t ask for your excuses. Sit down near the front and I will watch you and point out what you’re doing wrong.” One part of me really wants to see if I can run out of this classroom, the other part of me knows that if I try he’ll scold me and make it more difficult for me. That and I’ll likely get in trouble. I sigh and take a seat and a cup of water is set in front of me. Welp, time for another round of failure...
It feels like hours have gone by, though it was likely only an hour, and Toa continues telling me the things I’ve been going wrong; my posture, the position my hands are in, moving around too much, too stiff, my visualization, me zoning out and not paying attention, etc. I really am tired of this.
“Toa.” I say. He looks at me confused for a moment then surprised then annoyance after I grab the spray bottle from my bag and spray him with it. “Toa, stop with that Spartan way of teaching and be nicer.”
“My what-”
“Stop being so strict. I’m unable to help the fact I can’t do this “simple” spell that you keep shoving in my face.” He looks at me for a moment before sighing.
“I’ll stop bothering you about it then. You are dismissed.” I smile at him and he looks away.
“I don’t mind you teaching me in private, just try and be less strict and I’ll be able to tolerate it more.”
“I’ll... Keep that in mind.” Toa goes to grab papers on his desk and I look back at the water in front of me. I close my eyes for the manyith time and imagined what I wanted to happen. Water turning into wine. A sudden warmth suddenly appeared in my hands and when I opened my eyes, the water was wine. I looked up to see Toa staring at me, smiling. I smiled back.
(I know Manyith isn’t a word, let me make up words haha)
Roy
(oh boy time to put my thinking caps on cuz now I have no idea what to do with the rest of the S-Ranks, sorry if they’re short. Pray for me ya’ll, this gonna be made very yes after this)
Wow, great day, very sunny. I really don’t know what to say. Sherry dragged my outside and into the courtyard because she wanted to show me something apparently and she’s refusing the answer my questions.
“Can you tell me who or what you’re looking for?” I ask. Sherry has been looking for something for the past, I don’t know, 30 or so minutes.
“Hehe, not yet. It’s meant to be a surprise!” I don’t like the tone she’s using, this means she has some mischief planned. I wonder what, though... Before I can finish my thought, I hear Sherry celebrate in victory and I look over to see she has a hose. Oh god please tell me we’re gonna prank someone with that
“What are you planning on doing with that?” I tilt my head slightly in confusion and she laughs.
“You know that spray bottle you carry?”
“Um. Yeah? What about it?” I’m even more confused. Sherry’s smile gets bigger and she backs out of the way as I suddenly feel water spray on me from behind. “Hey!” I yelp in surprise and look back only to see Roy with another hose.
Roy laughs, “Revenge for last time,” he winks at me and suddenly I’m being sprayed by both Sherry and Roy. I’m being ganged up on by the brother and sister combo! I grab my spray bottle and start chasing Roy with it and occasionally Sherry, though she ran away after some time and so I got ahold of her hose and started chasing Roy with it. We continued to spray each other with water until we tire ourselves out.
Lynt
(Oh poor baby, he doesn’t deserve such bullying)
Where did he go? I swear he should have been in the courtyard like we planned. I spotted Tino and ran up to him.
“Tino, have you seen Lynt anywhere? I haven’t been able to find him.”
“Miss MC!” I guess I surprised him, whoops. “My apologies, I have not seen the young master. Have you checked his quarters?”
“I’ve checked everywhere I thought he would be. We were meant to meet up at the courtyard but he wasn’t there either.”
“Oh stars... I shall help you look for him then! That is if you don’t mind.”
“Thank you,” I smile, “I would appreciate it. If we can’t find him in an hour let's meet back here.” I get Tino’s approval for the plan and we walk our separate ways. Should I double check where I’ve looked? I probably missed some areas, I can look there again. Hmm... Maybe he’s sleeping somewhere in the courtyard? Hopefully I’m right...
I walk back to the courtyard and go on my search. Maybe if I’m quiet enough I’ll hear him? I stop and look around at potential hiding spots. I spot some strangely colored green near a flower bush and walk over. “So you were hiding here...”
Lynt opens his eyes then smiles at me, “Oh, MC, what are you doing here?”
“We agreed to meet up at the courtyard so you can speak to me, remember?” While I do find his behavior cute at times, it’s really annoying when he just forgets things like this. I’d rather not have my time waisted, even if it’s worth spending some extra time with him.
“Oh yes, that,” He still looks tired. He better not fall aslee- Lynt closes his eyes once more and I can just feel the upcoming headache this will cause.
“Lynt.” No responce. “Lynt, wake up.” Still no response. I really have no other choice now, do I?” I sigh and I grab my spray bottle and kneel down and softly squirt his face. My hand is suddenly grabbed and I’m pulled down onto Lynt chest.
“Sleepy... Would you sleep with me?” WORDING, AKEDIA, WORDING.
“But what about-” He’s already asleep before I can respond to him. God damn it. Whatever am I going to do with him...
--------------------
FINALLY
I FINISHED WRITING THIS
IT’S BEEN 15 YEARS /j
If I missed someone please tell me my memory is just a big no
#court of darkness#court of darkness voltage#fenn luxure#court of darkness fenn#guy avari#court of darkness guy#toa qelsum#court of darkness toa#roy invidia#court of darkness roy#lynt akedia#court of darkness lynt#fenn luxure x reader#guy avari x reader#toa qelsum x reader#roy invidia x reader#lynt akedia x reader
87 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi!!! Can I make a request? The idea was like you're on your finals, you can't see Eddie so much, so he decided to go to the library to see you and support you with your studies but you two end fucking there. Idk if you like it but if it is, do it when you have time, have a good week ♡♡♡
saw this and had to write it straight away!
18+ mdni etc etc, all the usual. 1.4k
again i didn't proof read oops
You’d be damned if you didn’t get the grades you needed for college, and as much as you loved studying at home, there were too many distractions. The town library was your safe haven on weekends. No kids, no loud noises, and only the odd nerdy classmate cramming at the last minute, same as you. You couldn’t lie, spending all of your free time away from Eddie had you dying inside, but you still called every night and talked until you fell asleep, and you still sat with him at lunch.
You were sitting at the larger desk in the basement archives, a pile of textbooks and a stack of papers littered the workspace. The librarian had a soft spot for you, and always let you study down there alone, free from distraction. She’d periodically bring down a cup of coffee and a couple biscuits when she was on her break, so the click of the door and sound of footsteps didn’t alarm you. It was only when the table at the desk next to you scraped along the floor that you realised it wasn't her. You looked up from your studies just as your boyfriend collapsed into the seat next to you.
“Hey baby.”
“What are you doing here? Stalking my study spot now?” you laughed.
“Just wanted to see you. I missed you, I’m not here to distract you, I promise.” He pulled out a worn copy of I, Robot and set about reading as you continued to study.
His presence brought you comfort, and the way that he occupied himself with Asimov gave you a new ring of adoration for him. The formulas in your chemistry notes seemed to make more sense now, and you whizzed through naming what they were. Chemical equations came next, and you were steadily making your way through balancing them when you felt a hand on your thigh. You looked up to Eddie, but his nose was still in his book, and you could see that he was definitely still reading by the way his eyes were flitting across the pages.
“I’m not here to distract you.” he repeated, and you went back to your studies once again.
It wasn’t long before you felt that hand slip further up your thigh, under your skirt, but this time you ignored it. You had finished balancing your equations, and were preparing to switch subjects when you felt him tug at your panties. Your breath hitched as he slipped a finger beneath the fabric, the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your legs in anticipation as you tried your hardest to refocus on your studies. Eddie’s finger roamed down and ran through your wetness, and he chuckled quietly to himself as he groaned slightly, still reading. You let out a soft sigh as he continued to tease.
“Keep studying.”
He had slipped another finger beneath your panties, and started to rub light figure-eights on your clit as you squirmed in your seat. He put his book face down on your desk, picking up a stack of flashcards that you had made, his other hand increasing pressure on your bud as he shuffled through them.
“I’m not here to distract you,” he repeated again, fingers still desperately working beneath your clothes, “I’m gonna quiz you, and if you get them all right, you get to cum, yeah? Reward for your hard work, sweetheart.”
You nodded, swallowing a wad of saliva as you prepared to focus. Eddie questioned you though almost the whole stack and you had gotten each answer correct. The speed and pressure he was working on your clit driving you insane, but you only had to focus for one last question. You could feel yourself getting close, and knew he’d let you allow the high to consume you once you’d given him the correct answer.
“What colour flame does potassium give when reacting with water?”
“Blue?”
He pulled his hand away from you, tutting as he put the cards down. The knot in your stomach began to fade, and you were desperate to reach it, crying out at the loss of touch.
“Lilac baby, you should know this, even I know that.”
“Eddie please.” you whined.
“I’ll tell you what, you come sit here in my lap and explain those formulas and equations to me, and I’ll get you there, okay?” his voice was smug as you shifted from your seat.
You climbed into his lap, and both of his hands found their way into your panties as you started to explain what you had been studying. His one hand worked at your clit again, building you back up slowly, as the other teased agonisingly through your folds. You had started off explaining everything to his face, voice faltering as he rubbed. He slipped a finger inside, and you moaned out a quiet ‘oh fuck’, body falling against him. You gripped at his shoulders, head buried in his hair against his neck.
“Keep going baby, I’ll let you cum even if you haven’t finished explaining, I promise.” he kissed at your shoulder and neck, biting down as you continued to explain.
The knot in your stomach had tightened up again, and was threatening to snap. You were practically whining out your explanations, moaning quietly every few words. Eddie had slipped another finger inside of you at some point, and was rubbing harsh circles against your clit now, practically begging for you to cum while you were still rambling about chemistry. You could feel his hardness against your ass as he continued to fuck his fingers into you. You were dangerously close to the edge as Eddie bit down on your neck, sending you right over. Your walls clenched around his fingers, the knot snapping as you came all over his hand, whimpering out the last last equation as he slowed his movements, helping you ride out your high.
“You did so good, baby,” he cooed, slipping his hands out from under your skirt, “you’re definitely passing that final.”
“Eddie… need you…”
“Was hoping you’d say that.”
He pushed you up off his lap, and stood up himself too. He guided you over to the empty desk beside the one you had been working at, and bent you over it. His knee pushed between your thighs, spreading your legs as you lay against the wooden surface. He flipped up your skirt, and pushed your panties to the side as he ran a thumb across your puffy entrance, using his other hand to unfasten his jeans. They were quickly pushed down just enough, and he took his throbbing cock out of his boxers, stroking along it a couple of times, groaning at the precum dripping from the tip. His hand left your entrance as he pulled a condom from his back pocket, ripping the packet open with his teeth, and rolling the latex down his length.
He lined himself up with you, one hand massaging your ass as he pushed in, pausing briefly as his hips hit your thighs. His hands moved to your waist, and he started thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, desperate to chase his own high, as well as wanting to coax another out of you. His hips snapped back and forth against your ass, a hand pushing down against the small of your back as the other tangled in your hair. The mix of pain and pleasure had you crying out as he continued to pound into you. Eddie leaned down, his chest against your back, rutting into you deeper and deeper and as one of his hands wrapped around your throat, and other reaching to muffle the noises coming out of your mouth.
“Shh baby, don’t want your favourite librarian to hear me fucking your brains out do we?”
Your hands gripped the back of the desk as your legs spasmed beneath you, your climax hitting you once again like a ton of bricks. You bit down against Eddie’s palm covering your mouth, and he in turn bit down on your shoulder again. The fluttering and clenching of your walls against his dick pulled his own climax out of him, spurts of hot cum filling the condom as he continued to thrust sloppily, allowing you to milk it out of him.
He fell on top of you for a brief minute, getting his breath back before sliding out of you and removing the condom, tying the end and stuffing it back into the empty packet before tossing it in the trash between the desks. You lay there, fucked out as he gently shifted your panties back into place and flipped your skirt down. He stuffed himself away and zipped his jeans before wrapping his arms around you as you lifted from the desk.
“How’s that for a study reward?”
#eddie munson#st4#stranger things#eddie the freak munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#joseph quinn
123 notes
·
View notes
Note
🎵💚 There’s frost on the moon and snow on the ground, but with you around there’s spring in my heart ❤️🎵
Hi it’s Santa!
I hope you’re doing well 🥰 Did you get up to anything for Halloween? (and if so what did you dress up as?)
Now that it’s November I’m personally so ready for it to be Christmas and I’ve been daydreaming about your gift.
I wanted to ask if you have any headcanons about the other Vanserra brothers, their relationship with Eris, Eris’s relationship with Beron and with his mom, Eris’s hounds?
And regarding Azriel, your headcanons about his shadows, his childhood, his mother, his time working under Rhys’s father, his relationships with Rhys and Cassian?
Lay it all on me. Do not hold back. Feel free to deviate and elaborate to your heart’s content. Your responses are what I’ll be harvesting details of their backstories from (I want to incorporate as many of your headcanons as possible since it’s your gift after all.) I’m always on the lookout for opportunities to ramp up the angst!
— Santa ❤️
Hi Santa!! So nice to hear from you!
I dressed as Peter Pan for Halloween this year, went to my lectures on campus, saw my professor's baby (he was dressed as an adorable little dragon. His parents were very excited for my costume but he, as a 10 month old, did not get it), and then did meal prep while watching ghost hunting videos.
It is 100% Christmastime, with a 3 day break for Thanksgiving mid-November and I'm so ready. I may start decorating this weekend.
Santa, I'm gonna need you to buckle up for the answers to these questions cuz HERE WE FUCKING GO.
**note that these headcanons do not always work together, at the same time, or in the same fic. I just have lots of feelings on how this could/would go. I have many thoughts on many characters, and my interpretation of a character tends to change from fic to fic. Personification is different between fics and I love exploring different histories and interpretations of characters to see all of the "what ifs" and "okay buts" of fandom. This exploration and variety is part of what I love most about fanfiction. Below are some of my recurrent headcanons for these characters and their history, again these are my own opinions and not mean to be taken as the only interpretation or even the only interpretation I like to read/write.
Eris & The Vanserras
Eris and LOA are very close in age, leading to a very close relationship between the two of them, but also a lack of parenting in favor of friendship.
Eris is considerably older than his other siblings, or at least much more mature, and basically had to help raise them. This led to animosity between the brothers due to his having to order them around for their own damn good and to protect them from their father. He did whatever he could to shield them from Beron. I love exploring how this plays out. If they reconcile, then how? (I think so, and I hope so. I personally explore some of this in my fic And So Our Life Begins, and more so in the ASOLB spin off A Second Chance. They all have names and personalities and ).
He has done more to protect his mother and brothers than they will ever know, and he would rather that they didn't know because he doesn't want them taking pity on him. (I explore this a bit in my fic: The Soft Heart & The Shadow)
Eris basically raised Lucien himself, but instead of animosity, it lead to a very close relationship between the two despite the age gap. I also HC that Eris saw Lucien had power that was definitely not of Autumn, and he and LOA got in a fight about it. Not because he's mad she did it, but because he's scared about protecting them both.
Eris loves his hounds. He's very strict with them, but they're also some of the only people (besides Lucien and occasionally LOA) that Eris can let down his mask around, and they're some of the only living things that have seen the real him before he eventually opens up to Azriel. Because of this Azriel interacting with the hounds allows him to see more of Eris when he's still very skeptical of the male, and is part of why he's convinced to trust him and be his mate. I feel like the hounds are trained similarly to service dogs. When they're outside Eris's personal cabin/room, they're constantly working and putting on their best behavior, but when they're in that personal space, they're the most loving little affectionate puppies that ever existed.
Beron hates his son. Let's get that straight right now. HOWEVER I wonder if he respects the lengths Eris is willing to go to maintain his own power and protect his brothers, even if he hates that he's doing it. Like he might hate what Eris is doing with that power, but at least Eris has the wits and desire to USE that power. Just food for thought there with that one.
Azriel & his past
Azriel hates his father and brothers, and I think this is likely a large part of why he feels about Illyria as strongly as he does. He saw the worst of Illyria in those males, and I wonder if he has a hard time dissociating that awful image from the image of what Illyria could be, and the positive males that already do exist within it (people like Balthazar).
Azriel was a pawn for Rhys's father. He wasn't a person, just a tool to be used, and I think he still sees that interpretation of himself and his worthiness to this day. I think it greatly affects his self worth and his humanization of himself and his feelings. He struggles to see his value as a person with valid thoughts and emotions, because for so much of his life his value was that of a "thing". He sees himself as a weapon because it's what he had to be to survive within Rhys's father's court. I don't think he's ever had time, opportunity, or even a thought that he could be something else. I feel like his experience going from prisoner to training camp to expendable Night Court tool has greatly affected his mental health and his ability to stand up for himself. He will do what's asked of him because it's what is expected, even if it will break him in the end.
Azriel's Shadows came to him to protect him from the shadows and to protect him from himself. I think the darkness he had to get to in his own mind to pull those shadows to himself is deeper than he will ever admit. I love seeing the shadows have their own personalities and actions separate from what Az asks them to do. They're pesky little beasts that he loves dearly, but also can annoy the shit out of him when they don't do as they're told.
Azriel loves his mother and will do whatever he can to protect her, but neither feels like they can fully open up to the other. They're so worried about protecting each other they don't feel like they can truly reveal their feelings. She won't talk about her traumas, and he wont' talk about his because they don't want to burden each other. But they both know the traumas exist and want to try and help the other the best they can even without having the full story.
Azriel is a chronic pain sufferer from his hands. He doesn't say anything to anyone, and he only goes to Madja when it's so painful he literally can't function. I feel like he hides this too well, and even if he didn't hide it, he wouldn't accept help. I don't think he knows how to accept help.
Azriel & The Bat Boys (& Nesta)
I feel like Azriel feels like an outsider in most relationships of his life because of his past, but truly loves his found brother. I wonder if because of Az's relationship with Rhys's dad, he sometimes struggles with the dichotomy of working for someone who does actually care for him and sees him as a person.
I'm not sure Rhysand actually knows the extent to which his father used Azriel, and I wonder if this affects their working and friendly relationship. This is not a fully fleshed out headcanon for me, but it's an idea I keep coming back to.
I definitely think that Cassian and Azriel are closer to each other than they are to Rhys. I don't think this necessarily in a bad way, but with the power/boss dynamic and the fact that Cass and Az spend more time out in the field, in Illyria, and spent the entirety of UTM together there's a closeness there that they don't have with Rhys.
Look, y'all can disagree with me on this, but Cass and Az have most definitely fucked. It's canon that all 3 fucked people in the same room together, but I feel like Cass and Az have fucked each other and fucked other people together. IDK how you're a 500 year old anything and aren't very sexually open.
If Azriel is going to open up to anyone emotionally it's going to be Cassian or Nesta.
Nesta is not a bat boy, but I HC that she and Az are best friends. I think they are the only two in the IC who can truly understand the depths of each other's pain. Their traumas are so deep and profound, and neither really wants to admit their weaknesses, but together they don't feel so alone and can maybe start to heal. I think Eris can also be this person for Az and Nesta. I'm so here for any type of fic that discusses their pain (I regularly inhale @kale-theteaqueen's fic The Whole Truth because it gives me all of the feels and is so accurate to how I see Nesta and myself in Nesta. The way Azriel and honestly most of the IC are depicted in that fic. I also feel like their fic Burning From the Inside Out also depicts them (Nesta and Azriel specifically) closely to how I view them. And as a chronic pain sufferer myself, it's near and dear to my heart. Basically just read their masterlist, because I also reread Of Death and Resurrection regularly for the same reasons listed above, and I love the Rhysta friendships they develop as well.
Okay. Could I keep going? YOU FUCKING KNOW IT. Should I? Probably not, I've spent way too long writing this up already and I've gotta cut myself off so I can work on my WIPs. I'm still probably forgetting something I'll remember later on...
Please let me know if it's okay to keep recommending you fics when I answer your questions, sometimes it just feels like the best way to address them. As usual, please let me know if you'd like me to further describe/elaborate on anything here! I hope you're doing well, and it's so great to hear from you!! I'm really looking forward to this reveal and the fic!!
#i spent entirely too long writing this up#secret santa#secret santa 2023#acotar gift exchange#acotar gift exchange 2023#acotar#acowar#acosf#azris
7 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
chazybazzy
ChazyBazzy's Retextures
trippy-daze94
Trippy-Daze94
calhiljr
Sem título
austincarcareservices
Car Maintenance and Repair Austin
anothergracekellyblog
Fangirling since 1992