Tumgik
#Three Things to Keep in Mind When Exploring
Text
Can We Become We?
Tumblr media
Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic and publicity reasons. Satoru, who doesn’t know what it’s really like to love or be loved. Suguru, who deems himself undeserving of anyone’s love. And you, who didn’t want to fall in love in the first place.
The three of you make a mutual agreement to stay out of each other’s business, and keeping the "happy relationship" picture nothing more than an act. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?
Chapter 1: Nothing More Than An Arrangement
*no smut in this chapter, she/her pronouns for reader* W/C: 2.7k
You can read it on AO3 here
“I’m NOT getting married!” Satoru’s voice came out loud and forceful. It felt like his chest had turned into a ticking bomb, ready to explode at any second.
He didn’t even take a look at the two photos his father had thrust into his hands, before he ripped them up. Whatever remained of them lay shredded on the floor. His soon-to-be partners.
This was bound to happen. Satoru knew. Families like his needed to ensure their legacies don’t cease to exist. But he didn’t want to be told what to do by them, he didn’t want to be a part of the corrupt system they lived by.
“You don’t have a choice!” His father shouts back, his words echoing against the walls. “It’s your duty as a part of this family-”
“What fucking family?!” Satoru screams, cutting him off. “This is no family! This is a fucking prison!”
His father's hand whipped out with lightning speed, striking his cheek with a hard slap. Satoru stands there, a stunned expression on his face. He reached a hand up touch the side of his face. It was hot underneath his fingers.
His father was glaring at him with so much contempt, that it almost burned holes into Satoru’s eyes. Blue clashed with blue.
“You’re nothing but a spoiled brat who doesn’t appreciate anything we’ve given you.” His father spits out, his voice low and menacing. “You have no idea what real life is like.”
Satoru let his arm drop to his side, the look in his eyes growing distant, as if he didn’t care about anything anymore.
“Our family line will not end with you, so you need a wife. And we’ve been given a great opportunity to own land with the richest soil in Tokyo.” His father hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re going to marry both of them. Do you understand?”
It wasn’t a question for Satoru to answer. The answer was whatever his sorry excuse of a father decided.
With an expression as cold as ice, his father turned on his heel and made his way out of the room. Satoru waited until the sounds of footsteps faded away completely before scoffing out a chuckle. “That right. Leave.” He sneered in disgust. Leave after every argument like you always do. “Because that’s the only thing you do.”
His eyes flick down to the photos on against the marble floor. Two faces staring up at him from the torn scraps of paper, taunting him with the fate that had been forced upon him.
His lip curls, eyebrows furrowing as if he had a bitter pill resting on the back of his tongue. He hasn’t even gotten had the chance to explore his own happiness, his own desires, and the thought of being tied down to not only one person, but two? He hated it. But since when did his opinion matter?
He moved to sit back down at the large dining table in his family’s sprawling mansion. The ornate chandelier above him cast a warm glow over the furnishings and polished floor. He fiddled absently with an empty wine glass, glaring coldly at the expensive spread of food in front of him.
He was supposed to eat dinner alone. Again. The same way he did every single day of his life ever since he learnt how to feed himself. He was used to it by now, but it still stung.
His mother was busy making small talk with their guests in the main hall, her laughter filling the space as she sipped on a glass of wine.
His father’s words repeated in his head, echoing through his mind like the relentless pulse of a headache. “You don’t have a choice!”
Satoru clenched his jaw, setting down the glass with a loud clatter. He aggressively pushed himself up as the chair rakes against the the floor beneath him, the sound drowning out his mother’s laughter.
“I hate you.” He gritted under his breath as he made his way out of the dining room. He stormed down the hallway with his hands curled into fists so tight, that if his nails weren’t recently cropped, they could’ve drawn blood.
Despite all the material possessions he had, he couldn't remember the last time his parents had spent any real quality time with him. Never a word of praise or sign of affection. There was always some important meeting or pressing matter that they had to attend to, some excuse to leave him to his own devices.
That's why, when he finally made it to his childhood bedroom, he slammed the door behind him with a loud bang and let out a shout of frustration, collapsing onto the edge of his bed.
He was sick and tired of it - of this life, of this family, of his parents treating him like he was just an obstacle. It’s not fair. But he knew they wouldn't listen. They never listened. He was nothing but a trophy to them - a symbol of their success, not a son to be cherished.
And now they were marrying him off just for the benefit of this stupid family. Not because they cared about him.
He gripped harshly onto the white strands of his hair. Why? Why did he have to be in this stupid family?
WhyWhyWhyWhyWhy-
There was a pain in his chest, growing tighter and tighter, until couldn’t hold it in any longer. He shoves his face into one of the pillows, sinking his teeth into it. And he screams. He screams. Raw, and loud, and filled with all the anger and grief and despair he has been keeping bottled up inside for years.
Years of neglect, the memories of his parents' absence, and his own emptiness in this house that had never been a home.
——————————————————
The hair tie was dangling from Suguru’s teeth as his hands worked on gathering up his dark hair into a bun. He had just finished getting into a button up and slacks, the uniform he wore for his part time job as a waiter.
There’s a light knock on his bedroom door, making him turn around. Only his mother would knock so gently that one might miss it. He sighs through his nose and drops his hands. His hair undoes itself, flowing loosely just below his shoulders as he takes the hair tie out of his mouth.
He opens the door, only to be greeted by the sight of both his parents standing there. His eyebrows twitch upwards, just by a whisper, before they settle into their usual position.
There’s a pleading look to their faces, ones that remind him of a homeless person looking at someone while holding out a cup for money. He resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows that they’re going to ask him to do something he probably doesn’t want to do but will do anyway.
“I assume you have something to tell me?” The question came out more like a statement, and Suguru turned around, letting them come into his room.
“Son, you already know about the circumstances of our family-” His father starts, but Suguru cuts him off short. He’s heard this story a thousand and one times already. Maybe even more.
“Father, don’t drag this on.” Suguru starts doing his hair again, collecting it into a prim bun near the back of his head. “Just tell me what you want.”
There’s a brief pause, and he could almost sense the way his parents shared a glance from behind his back.
“We’ve arranged a marriage for you.”
Suguru freezes. For a second, he questions if he heard right, but the way the room went eerily silent just proves that he heard just fine.
His jaw clenched, and with his back still turned from his parents, his hands start moving again. He reaches out to take his hair tie and sets his hair into its usual shape. Prim and precise.
Then he turns to face his parents.
“No.” He smiles, tight lipped, eyes closed into upside down crescents. “I’m going to the restaurant now. Do you want anything else?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, already making his way past them and out of his room.
“Son.” His mother calls out, and he stops in his tracks. “We need this.”
Suguru feels the side of his temple throb, hands curling tightly around the strap of his laptop bag as he adjusted it onto his shoulder.
“No, we don’t.” His heart pounds in his chest like a drumbeat as he stands there, unwilling to face them. “We have enough to live.”
“It’s barely enough.” His father tries to explain. “The Gojo family wants to buy our farm land-”
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“You sold our land?!” He turned on his heel, his eyes wide and wild. He can’t believe it. There’s no way.
His father's face softened slightly at the sight of his son's emotion. “They offered over 100 million yen.” He said, as if that somehow made everything okay. “Do you know how much that is?”
“And what about me?” Suguru spits right back at his father, voice laced with a bitterness he couldn’t even recognise. “This was my future, my inheritance. And you traded it away for some money?!”
This time, mother spoke up, cutting through the tension like a knife. “We said we wouldn’t accept unless they married you to their son.”
The realisation dawns onto Suguru’s face like a shadow casting over the sun.
“You… you sold me too?” His shoulders drop.
“The Gojo family offered more money than we ever would’ve seen in our lifetimes.”
Suguru couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had always known that things were difficult for his family, but he had never thought they would go this far. He could feel the anger filling up inside him, threatening to overflow like a boiling pot.
"You could have asked me!" His voice raised with every word. "This is my life we’re talking about, not some shitty cash grab!”
His parents exchange a look of worry, regret etched onto their features, but he doesn't want to hear it. It was too late now, anyway.
“Son…” His mother starts off, her tone gentle.
“Stop.” He turned away, his eyes closing slowly. “Just stop.”
He heard his own footsteps against the wood as he walked away, his body moving stiffly, his mind a blur. His father's voice sounded distant and abstract, before leaving the house and slamming the door shut behind him.
——————————————————
You close the door behind you, throwing your bag onto the ground with a heavy thump. You take a deep breath, feeling the familiar smell of your home surrounding you like a warm blanket.
Finally. After a long day of waiting tables, all you wanted to do right now was to kick back and relax.
“I’m home!” You called out, slipping your shoes off, before bending over and placing them up on the shoe rack.
“Y/n, come here.” Your father’s voice calls you from the living room.
You pause.
Was something wrong? The tone he used sounded serious, almost grave. Giving your head a slight shake, you take a deep breath in an attempt to steady yourself. Maybe it's not that bad, maybe it's something simple.
You make your way towards the living room, to see both your parents sitting on the couch, almost as if they were waiting for you. You try to ignore the heavy thumping in your chest. Your mind was running through a million questions. Was someone hurt? Was there bad news?
“Is something wrong?” You kept your voice steady, despite the fact that something felt very off.
“Nothings wrong.” Your father states simply, his expression unreadable. “But your marriage is in two days.”
For a moment, you don't believe it. A light laugh a little bit escapes your lips, thinking it's some kind of joke. But then your neither of your parents crack a smile.
The rock in your stomach drops to your feet. “What?”
“Your marriage.” Your father repeats slowly, as if you were too stupid to understand. “Is in two days.”
“No, I heard that part.” You spit out, voice rising in anger. “I meant what the fuck do you mean?!”
“Y/n.” Came the warning tone of your mother. You turn to her, your eyes widening as you search for an answer. But her expression is just as grim as your father's.
There’s a familiar sting of anger spiking up in your blood.
“No. Don’t Y/n me. Explain.” You snapped, heart violently thundering against your rib cage. “What do you mean, my marriage is in two days? I’m not even engaged. Shit, I’m not even dating anyone!”
“The Gojo family is looking for a wife for their son.” Your father replies matter-of-factly, not a single trace of guilt on his face.
Your jaw might’ve dropped to the floor if it wasn’t screwed onto your face.
“Why me!?” You yell, the rage burning up inside you growing hotter. “I don’t want to get married to some random guy I don’t know! I’m trying to focus on finishing college!”
“My close do worker, Yaga, knows them personally, and he told me about it. So, I offered you. The Gojo’s trust Yaga a lot, so they agreed when he recommended you.” You father says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You don’t understand what this could do for me, for us. The Gojo family is huge. Huge.”
“And what about me?!” You shouted, eyes beginning to sting from the frustration all building up at once. “Am I supposed to just go through with this? Like it's nothing? Like none of my decisions matter?" You can feel your heart racing and your mind spinning as you try to make sense of what's happening.
“You'll do what I tell you to do.” Your father’s voice is firm and unforgiving.
“No, I won't.” You shake your head, a fire in your eyes that could burn holes. “I won't let you ruin my life like this!”
Your father’s expression hardens as he looks at you with a steely gaze and a clenched jaw.
“If you don’t agree, we won’t pay a single yen for your studies.” His tone is low and measured. “You’re going to have to find your own money.”
There was a stab of betrayal as your father issues his warning. You wanted to yell at the top of your lungs, because what the fuck?! If you could pay for your own education you would’ve already done it!
“This isn’t fair!” Your teeth were grinding together, and you were this close to ripping out your hair.
“You’ll survive.” You father scoffs. He scoffs. And you feel your eye twitch. “I’m sure your future husbands won’t have an issue if you continue your studies after marriage.”
You have to double take, the cogs in your mind halting for a second.
“Husbands?”
“Yes, Gojo’s kid is marrying some other guy for land property.” Your father shrugs, pushing himself up from the couch. “You’re going to marry him too.”
Your mother follows after him as they walk toward the living room threshold.
The weight of his words hang in the air like a dark cloud, threatening to overshadow your entire being, and for the umpteenth time during the course of ten minutes, your heart sinks. You’re marrying two guys? Is that even possible?!
“Are you hearing yourselves?” You scream, tears blurring your vision. Your voice wavers as you look from your father to your mother, then back to your father again. In that moment, it feels as if the walls are closing in around you, and you can't believe what's happening. “This is ridiculous!”
Your protest echoes through the room, and the silence that follows feels deafening. Until your father looks over his shoulder, his tone firm and decisive.
“You have two days to prepare yourself.” There was no room for negotiations.
And with that, your parents leave you alone with your despair.
You walk backwards until you reach the couch, slumping down and throwing your head in your hands. The dam breaks, hot tears coming in pairs as they roll down your cheeks.
Just hours ago, you had been content and hanging with your friends, not a single worry in the world. You had no idea that you were going to come home to this, your entire life being turned upside down.
Your marriage, your future, all taken from your hands.
Chapter2, Chapter3
79 notes · View notes
thatsbelievable · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
310 notes · View notes
bringmefoxgloves · 2 years
Note
I am so sorry for sending like 500 asks a day BUT it must be said your tags about Alison Gordon are completely correct, she literally is such a good character and people are SO mean to her for no reason and it breaks my heart!
Don't ever apologize for sending asks, I love them <3
But for real!!!! Like she never deserves this much hate!!!! So many depictions of her make her adversarial to Lawrence and like a huge Bitch and nothing else. Which just like. Breaks my heart.
Prepare for a long ramble about her, bus especially in the context of Chainshipping.
Like the reality of her?
She is a strong protective woman who cares about her child and her husband and wants her relationships to be valued and she's just trying to do her best!!! Like I'm all about Chainshipping, but like. To make Alison the Evil Bitch who stands in the way of that is hmmm. Not where it's at.
My favorite versions of her (in the context of Chainshiping) is someone who may (or more realistically, or may not!) initially understand Lawrence being gay. If she immediately understands great! More power to her, if she was married to him, she would most likely be the first one to pick up Lawrence is gay. If she doesn't, equally understandable!
Because, (Gasp! A woman side character with complex feelings???) any feeling of being betrayed or lied to when a previously long and lengthy relationship ends because of said partner's self discovery of sexual orientation is an immediate real human reaction, especially within the context of a relationship that has a child involved.
And I'm not saying it's the kind or accepting or most correct instinct, but it's an understandable feeling to have, and Alison, depending on your interpretation of her, is absolutely allowed to have such complex feelings. She's human and complex and allowed to think wrong things and make mistakes.
But, Alison doesn't strike me as a person who would hold that sort of resentment for long. She might be confused at first as to how Lawrence could have claimed to love her (but, deep down, she knows he didn't) and how he could have had a child with her (As, unless you are familiar with hetronormative closeting and family building, it would be confusing!), but she'd educate herself and move on.
She would never want Diana to pick up resentment or hatred of her father from her. She fought and bled and attacked a man bodily to protect her daughter, so why would she ever want to damage her daughter's relationship with her father? She wants the best for both Diana and Lawrence, as well.
She would be, in the end, I think, supportive and happy for her ex's happiness. Like that's literally all she wants!!! She wants Lawrence to have passion!!!! To be happy!!! She literally says that!!!
Tumblr media
She's willing to accept Lawrence's hatred of her as long as it inspires some genuine feelings within Lawrence!!! She wants him to be fully alive and feeling and living!!! She wouldn't stand in the way of Lawrence achieving that!!!
And we, the fandom, forget that about her.
It's a fine line to walk when there's a canon straight ship that 'gets in the way' of a fandom popular gay ship, but please, please, please, everyone. Value and stop demonizing Alison Gordon 2kforever.
12 notes · View notes
writingwithfolklore · 7 months
Text
Writing a Story from Start to Finish - Guide
                I see you guys in the tags and reblogs talking a lot about how you have a desire to write, but have no clue what to write about, or where to even start figuring that out. While starting any project can be incredibly daunting, I wanted to put together a little guide to hopefully make it a bit more accessible. Be warned, this will probably be a long post.
Step 1: Form an idea
All writing begins with this: an idea. Ideas can start as small as an object, or as big as a world or cast of characters. What’s important is that your idea genuinely interests you, and makes you want to explore it more.
                There are a million ways to gain inspiration for ideas, but my favourite method is a sort of brainstorm/mind map of all the little and big things you find interesting. Any tropes, characters, places, concepts, objects, animals, other stories, etc. you love—write them down. Then, start connecting the pieces. Each connection is one concept or idea you could explore further.
                If this doesn’t work for you, try using some writing prompts or check out 15 ways to spark new ideas.
                If you are a planner, proceed to Step 2. If you are a pantser, skip to step 7.
Step 2: Create your Protagonist
Now that you have a sort of concept or inspiration to work off of, you need your main character. There are about as many ways to create characters as there are characters themselves, and each method is going to work better or worse for every writer.
                At the barest minimum, all your protagonist needs is a Goal to work towards, a Reason for wanting it, and a Flaw that keeps them from having it right away.
                These three things can form a baseline character. Consider what the thing they want, why they want it, and what’s keeping from it says about them as a person.
                Rapunzel (from Disney’s Tangled) wants to see the ‘floating lights’ on her birthday. She wants to because she believes she will learn more about herself through seeing them. Her fear over disappointing and disobeying her ‘mother’ keeps her from it.
                My favourite character creation technique is actually Here—it takes you through creating character in order to create story.
                If that one doesn’t work for you, try this one. It is more focused on defining traits and figuring out the personality of the character first.
Step 3: Your Plot is your Protagonist’s Arc
As stated in the character creation technique I shared in Step 2, character is plot. By that I mean, the character’s journey is the plot of the story. We’re here to see the protagonist transform because of the circumstances incited in the beginning.
                So to form a plot, we need to know who the character is at the beginning, and what they need to learn by the end.
                Your character’s arc is A but B so C:
                A – your character and their flaw
                B – The conflict they go through
                C – how they change
“Obsessed with success, Jenny Beech works tirelessly to earn the approval of her strict parents and graduate top of her class, but when the new girl in town pulls her into a whole new world of excitement and fun, she must stand up for herself against her impossible standards and learn how to be a teen again.”
                This one sentence has everything we need to know about this story and character: “Obsessed with success (character trait/flaw), Jenny Beech works tirelessly to earn the approval of her strict parents and graduate top of her class (goal), but when the new girl in town pulls her into a new world of excitement and fun (conflict), she must stand up for herself against her impossible standards and learn how to be a teen again (change).”
                If you have these three things, congratulations! You already have a story. If you’d like, you may begin writing it now (skip to step 8). Or…
Step 4: Theme
                I did a whole post on theme you should check out here. Essentially, the big takeaway is that your theme is a lesson to impart to the readers—which means it is not a question, it is an answer.
                For the example given above, our theme would likely be something like, “Teens need to balance their additional responsibilities as they mature into young adults with the joy of being young and having fun.” Or, “Friends and a close social network is more important than having the best grades.” Or, “It’s important to take frequent time away from work in order to maintain one’s humanity.” Etc. Etc.
                Theme is conveyed through what your characters need to do to succeed (or what they do that causes their failure). If Jenny lets loose and suffers consequences for it in the end, we’re saying that she should have stuck to her studies rather than letting herself have fun. If she lets loose and is rewarded with a greater relationship with herself and her parents, we’re saying that was the correct thing to do.
Step 5: Outlining
                Now that we have a plot and a theme, we can outline our story. An outline is like a roadmap of what you’re writing. It can be as specific or broad as you want. My outlines tend to follow this structure, and I improvise the little stuff in between, but if you need to get all your ideas within your outline, that’s good too!
                Just make sure your notes make sense to you so when you need to know where to go next, you have a handy tool just for that.
Step 6: Worldbuilding
                Worldbuilding is probably where you’ll spend the most time because there’s just so much. However, I also find it one of the most fun parts. The minimal thing you need to know is your world’s normal, and how that normal is disrupted in the inciting incident.
                Jenny’s normal is school work and trying to impress her parents. The disruption is the new girl in town.
                Rapunzel’s normal is the tower and her hobbies. The disruption is Flynn breaking in.
                I did a more in-depth post on worldbuilding here, but the basics is just ask questions, explore consequences, and do plenty of research.
                Which brings us to…
Step 7: Research
                This can also be done after your first draft, but can’t be skipped entirely. It’s important when trying to convey experiences that may not be wholly your own, or unique perspectives, that you understand the context behind those things in the real world.
                Once again, ask questions, talk to people, and remain open to what you find.
Step 8: We can start writing now
                Now that you have all your planning ducks in a row (or have a good inspiration to jump from) it’s time to start writing! Either go from the outline you built, or just try out scenes. I have some tips for actually writing the dang thing that I’ll put here:
                Let me know how your writing goes, good luck!
3K notes · View notes
tblsomedoodles · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.
(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)
(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))
I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.
I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.
Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.
And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)
Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.
Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.
they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.
(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)
as for Meeting Mikey
That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)
Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).
They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.
Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.
(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)
Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)
5K notes · View notes
ab4eva · 1 month
Text
‘The Three of Us’
Tumblr media
-
Fully co-authored with: @precious-little-scoundrel
Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️
Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only
Word count: 8k
-
Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.
When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.
“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.
Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.
-
“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).
“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.
“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.
-
The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.
Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.
-
Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:
Even when the cold comes crashing through
I'm putting all my bets on you
I hope they never understand us
I put my heart inside your palms
My home in your arms
Now we know nothing matters
Nothing matters
And you can hold me like he held her
And I will fuck you like nothing matters
You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.
“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.
“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.
-
“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.
“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.
“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.
Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.
That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.
“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.
The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…
Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.
“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.
“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.
Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.
Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.
-
“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.
“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.
“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.
“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.
“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.
“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.
“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.
“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.
-
The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.
“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.
“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.
“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”
Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.
“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.
“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.
“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.
You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”
Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.
Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.
“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.
“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.
“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.
“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”
“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.
“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.
“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”
You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.
“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”
Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”
It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.
“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.
“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.
“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.
“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.
“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.
Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”
Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”
When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.
“Are you -is that you…twitching?”
“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”
“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.
After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”
Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.
“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.
“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.
“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”
“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.
For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.
“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.
“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.
“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”
Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.
“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”
You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.
“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.
Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.
“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.
Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.
“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”
He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.
“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.
“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.
-
Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.
You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.
“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.
“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”
Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.
“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”
Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”
-
Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty
732 notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
Text
DC x DP fic idea: Cave Boy
Danny Fenton is a lot of things, but good under pressure is not one of them. He didn't mean to be stranded in an unknown universe after playing around with his parents' Specter Speeder in the Ghost Zone and losing control of it. He didn't mean to find shelter in the strange cave systems under the city Danny crashlanded in. He didn't mean to step on any bat and bird costume-wearing toes.
All he was trying to do was fix the ship he arrived in with stolen and repurposed technology from all across the city. He also didn't take anything that wasn't in a garbage can so he couldn't even be acussed of thief.
Danny barely even allowed himself to be spotted, only going out at night to avoid regular citizens. Danny was a very considerate dimensional visitor compared to the Ghosts that came to Amity Park.
He spent hours exploring the caves as a human, but whenever he felt like it was time to go back, he shifted into his ghost form and floated upwards until he was above the ground. Sometimes he find himself far away from city limits othertimes he be right under a bank or a apparement complex.
It was an exciting, if a little rough, life. He occasionally found food in the garbage, and while it was disgusting, it was better than nothing. Thankfully, his halfa status allowed him to go longer without meals, sleep, and even breathing. It's just a bit hard to keep track of time since he rarely sees the sun, and he doesn't exactly have a clock nearby, but he sure it's been at least three months when he finds the bat and bird costume wearing people.
Danny is minding his own business, having just found a primarily intact toaster that would have the perfect wiring for the Speeder's temperature-controlling unit, when he mistakenly take a right on the third turn instead of a left.
It wouldn't usually be a problem, as he could just float to the topside and find his way to his little shelter/shop, but he had unknowingly tripped motion detectors. Danny had continued on his merry way, just starting to realize he was lost, when out of the shadows a man in a gaint bat costume leaped at him.
He yelp, barely dropping out of a nasty-looking jab, bending his back from the elbow aimed at his face and only through his ghost reflexes able to jump over the leg swipe.
"Who are you!?" The man growled "how did you find this place?"
"Dude, I live here!" Danny gasped, throwing himself to the ground to avoid what he knew was a jujitsu grab. "What you doing here?!"
He doesn't get a answering seeing as a bo staff of all things slams into the back of his head. He hits the ground just as his attacker says.
"Good job Red Robbin"
"Yummmmm" Danny mutters word association too strong not to.
When he wakes, he finds himself tucked in a medical cot inside a glass cell. He is still inside the caves but somewhere he's never seen. It's filled with technological advances that has his mouth watering just looking at them.
His hands twitch with the urge to break everything apart and tinker. He's a Fenton through and through.
He would have enjoyed the scenery- especially the gaint computer that was just calling his name- except various people in costumes were standing around his cell studying him like a animal in a zoo.
"Oh, ugh, hi," Danny says to the man in the giant red helmet. He gets no response so he tries to get a reaction from the others. It yields the same results. "Okay. So ugh is this a cult thing? Cause I really don't want to be part of whatever is happening here"
"What is your name?" The man dressed like a Bat demands and well crude if this is a cult thing Danny doesn't want them knowing his name. Either as human or as a ghost.
So he thinks of the most boring name he can think of, wrestling his ghost to make his body language as human as possible as he says "my name is Bruce"
There is a sharp intake of breath to his left, which causes Danny to look at a man wearing blue. That man has his face pressed against the glass, staring at Danny with a wide, manic smile. Even though the white lens of the blue man's mask hides his eyes, he knows they are drinking in Danny's features.
"look at him! He's adorable!" The blue man gushes and the other teenagers all nod in agreement.
"Super cute," the girl in purple agrees stepping closer to peer at Danny.
"A bit odd to see so much emotion on that face but he really is cute." the one holding a bo staff adds.
"He is weak." A boy sneers, "Hardly deserving of the blood in his veins."
"Lay off Demon Brat" The guy with the red helmet says, "He's just a civilian."
Now, Danny did not like those comments.
What if this is a cult thing but not a ghost cult like he orginally thought? What if it's a creepy sex thing? Or Cannibals? Or a secret fight club where they would force him to partake in death battles?
Whatever the case may be, they could not know he's from a different dimension.
"Bruce," the man dressed as a Bat cuts into the chatter. He levels a hard stare at Danny, who flinches away from it. The man's face softens just a bit. "We know that you from a different dimension"
"We tested your blood and have means to detect travelers from alternate universes" a guy in yellow helpfully says. "We also sort of figured who you were before that"
Seriously how?
"What?" Danny asks and the man in the Bat costume removes his masks. He's left staring at someone who look oddly familar but for the life of him he can't place it.
"Ughhhhh"
"Bruce, I'm also Bruce Wayne and in this universe I'm Batman" He says
Who?
"We will help you get home" Bruce tells Danny unlocking his cell. "I'm sorry about the ambush"
Now, this is where Danny should come clean and tell this man the truth, but he panics because he is not good under pressure and instead says, "Okay,"
And that's how Danny is mistaken for Bruce Wayne's civilian dimension traveling counterpart. He tries to roll with it, he does, but it's a little hard to when he's surrounded by weirdos who dress up like clowns to fight crime.
What even is his life.
2K notes · View notes
wardenparker · 1 year
Text
For Her
Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: Mature Word Count: 10k Warnings: Cursing, food, panic attack, references to unplanned pregnancy, past pregnancy, mentions of Sarah, general post-outbreak mood. Summary: Low on supplies and needing rest, Joel and Ellie stop in a colony he has heard about to restock on their journey west, but Joel finds far more than be bargained for within the city walls. Notes: We are so, so excited to debut our first Joel fic! We’ve been looking forward to this for ages and can’t wait to explore with the character some more!
Tumblr media
There aren't many things that are better now than they used to be. Most comforts are gone and there hasn't been any such thing as safety in twenty years, but Lake Erie is more beautiful than ever and sunrises over the water do have a certain amount of appeal that they lacked before now. You had come here on camping trips with your family as a kid and can't remember it ever being this pretty. Not that sunrise is typically your favourite time of day, but the little bundle wrapped in blankets in your arms seems to love it, and she coos happily now at the rising pinks and oranges in the sky while she wiggles her little fist in the air. Everything is better now that she's here, and you press a kiss to her coffee-brown curls. The rest of the world may be in shambles, but you're going to keep this little bundle safe and sound.
******
Joel's eyes are wary, watchful as he looks around. The rifle in his hand lowered, but still ready to lift and fire, the safety switched off and his finger on the trigger guard. "How much we got?" He demands, peeling his eyes away from the surroundings to glance down at Ellie where she has the supplies scattered out, taking count after a bag had been lost during the last run in with a group of clickers.
"Not much." Ellie frowns at the spread, realizing that the pack they'd lost was the one with most of their food. "We have a couple of days here, at best."
"Shit." Joel hisses, tapping his hand on the guard as he thinks. Trying to decide the best course of action. "Gimme the map." He huffs after a second, holding his hand out so he can look at it.
"Here." Joel's map is marked out in codes and colors that Ellie still hasn't figured out yet, but she's been trying ever since they left Boston. She hands over the map now and starts repacking their supplies. "We just crossed the border into Pennsylvania."
"No shit we crossed the border into Pennsylvania." Joel grumbles at her, aware that the moss covered sign they had passed thirty minutes ago proudly proclaimed them to be inside the boarders of the old state. He shuffles the rifle onto his back and starts studying the map, trying to remember where she had told him there was a colony the last time he left the Boston QZ.
"Cranky." Ellie rolls her eyes as she ties up the drawstring on the bag and shoves it into her backpack.
"Shut up." He grunts, running his finger along the road that the two of them are on. Tracing it up to a small town on the edge of Lake Erie. "Lake City." He taps the map as he remembers her smile as she talked about it, making it seem like it was a haven. "I know a place." He decides, folding the map back up and holding it out to the girl. "They should have supplies."
"A lake?" That perks Ellie up, and thoughts of an actual bath in the fresh water and clean clothes are suddenly at the forefront of her mind. "Fuck it. Let's go."
She hikes her pack up higher on her back and steps past him like she's eager to get there. Making him look after her for a moment before he huffs in amusement and starts to follow. "Hey kid, wait up." He orders, not wanting her to get too far ahead of him.
"You got longer legs than me, old man." She throws the taunt behind her with a smirk, not bothering to turn around and look at Joel. "Catch up."
******
It takes nearly three days to get to Lake City. Joel had to keep the girl in a warehouse for an extra six hours when a group of clickers had come by, huddled down and silent as they wandered through. His finger on the trigger and his body in front of her to protect her if necessary. By the time the tall, cobbled together walls come into view, he can barely see twenty feet in front of his own face. It would have been better to have found a place to bunk down for the night, but the supplies were gone and the girl's stomach had been growling for hours.
The watch lights on the catwalk at the top of the walls outside Lake City aren't exactly anything fancy. There's no FEDRA presence here and therefore no Fireflies. No one waving their gun around or murmuring codes around alley corners. The community of Lake City takes care of itself - self-sufficient and self-supporting in every way they can manage from crops and farming to security and back again. There are two people on the catwalk tonight, carrying two of the only guns in the colony to make sure that no clickers come near the gates. They aren't expecting to see anything, and are chatting between themselves about some gossip or other when one of them stands straight up and points the barrel of his rifle down at the two figures approaching the gate. They don't have the movement patterns of any clickers he's seen, but no one takes chances anymore. "STOP!"
"We're alive!" Joel calls out, lifting one hand up and holding the rifle securely with the other as the two of them slowly approach the light. Squinting at the spotlight that is aimed towards them and he moves his hand to shield his eyes from most of the harsh light.
"I can see that." The voice calls out from the top of the wall. "Put down your gun and stay where you are!" The other figure on top of the wall moves out of sight, presumably to come down and inspect the new arrivals.
"I ain't dropping my gun." Joel calls back, not willing to unarm himself. "Not a chance."
"Hold it out. Finger off the trigger. Stay where you are." The voice from the wall instructs. Down below, the much smaller city door swings open, revealing a smaller figure clad in mismatched armor with a gun directed at the new arrivals. "Stand down." The smaller figure orders from behind their helmet.
Joel holds the rifle out, finger lifted into the air but his eyes are watchful, making sure that no one makes a sudden move. He doesn't trust anyone.
It's not until the figure gets closer that they stop, standing stark still in the open field in front of the gates. They don't speak and Ellie keeps herself from fidgeting. She just keeps her eyes moving between Joel and the person in armor until they nod and turn back to the wall. "Let them in!" The figure calls, without testing or checking or finding out anything.
Your eyes widen when you recognize Joel, grateful for the visor that keeps him from seeing your face and potentially recognizing you as well. Although maybe he wouldn't even remember you, you don't know. It was one night well over a year ago, when you were coming down through what used to be New England and ran into him on the road. The idea of sharing supplies and safety in numbers for one night had ended up with the two of you tearing each other’s clothes off and spending all your frustrations in passion. A night that has ended up being far more consequential for you than it ever could be for him.
Joel frowns, standing straight and immediately moving towards Ellie. The protective stance easy for anyone to see as he eyes them. It's unusual that anyone would let people into their colony without questions or testing. Even without the FEDRA influence. "Thank you." He nods towards the figure who is seemingly giving the orders. "We're just passin' through. Need supplies."
“When was the last time she ate?” Deflecting more than slightly, you nod toward the girl, wondering if she’s his. If you aren’t the first woman that had a night with him and ended up living with the consequences.
"Yesterday." Joel answers, making Ellie cut her eyes up at him.
"She can answer for herself." She blows out and looks back at the figure dressed in tactical gear. "Yesterday." She repeats without a hint of irony.
"Then we'll get you something to eat." You nod back to the gate and start walking, knowing that no one left in the world would be dumb enough not to follow. There's shelter, food, and safety on offer for them inside the colony walls. It's literally what they came here for.
Joel looks at Ellie, nodding towards the figure that is retreating. "Well?" He huffs, "better follow." He readjusts his rifle and starts out after the gear covered leader, frowning slightly as he watches their gait. Something seems familiar about it, although he doubts he will run into you here. You had told him that you were planning on going west.
"This place is weird," Ellie mutters, though she follows at the promise of food. "No test and no interrogation? Weird." Inside the gates, the third member of night watch usually doesn't do much. They're there for support, and to keep the rotation going so the people on top of the wall are always alert. Tonight, though, he looks completely appalled that you're opening the gates for new arrivals. "They need food," you tell him, keeping your helmet and visor in place so no one can see how poorly you're dealing with him appearing out of nowhere. "And someplace to sleep. They'll be gone again in no time."
"Keep your eyes open." Joel watches the person's back warily and cuts his eyes around. "Stick by my side. I don't know what's going on, but I don't trust 'em." If this place is half as lax with security as they seem, it's a wonder that it's still standing. Although it seems a lot cleaner than the FEDRA Boston QZ. Hard to see in the dark, but he imagines it's as picturesque as you had described it.
"Shiiit." On the other side of the gate, Ellie stays at Joel's elbow as they follow the guard through to another room. An empty table and a few chairs standby but not much else, and they stand apart from the furniture when you turn to nod to them. "Someone will bring you food and show you where you can sleep. And they'll lock the gates behind you when you leave tomorrow." You have no expectation that he'll stay here, and even though you had dreamt plenty of times of this man coming to find you - and all the tenderness that that might bring with it - you aren't going to say a word. Not when you have your own secret.
"That's it?" Joel shifts slightly, eyes narrowing as he glances around the room suspiciously. "You're just gonna...let us stay?" His tone is disbelieving and it should be, nothing is free in this world since the Outbreak day. "What's really goin' on here?"
Your head drops a little, and you hate him for being so cautious that he can’t just accept the proverbial gift horse he’s being given. “You want to be turned away? Kicked out for asking questions? Fine.” You point to the door. “Get out.”
Joel doesn't move, just stands there watching. Rocking his jaw for a second before he purses his lips. "Lift your visor." He demands, his gut telling him that he knows why he was just let in. "Show me your face."
You could say no. It would be easy. Two letters. One syllable. But you hesitate. “Put down the gun,” you bargain instead. At the very least you don’t want him blowing you away the second he’s confronted with his past.
Instead of putting it down, he takes his finger off the guard, simply holding it by the pistol grip and he lowers it towards the ground in a relaxed position. "As good as it's gonna get." He tells you simply.
It draws another sigh from your lips, but since the Joel you knew was as thorough a son of a bitch in every way as you had ever met, you know he won’t let it go. If you try to retreat he’ll just follow you and pull the helmet right off your head. “I’m not looking for trouble,” you tell him honestly, but pull up the visor on your helmet with two fingers anyway.
Joel's slight scowl immediately softens into a mixture of confusion and satisfaction at being right. Your name comes off his lips in a soft whisper as he takes half a step back in surprise. "You're— you were supposed to be going west." He mumbles, looking you up and down as if what you were wearing would tell him the story of the last year.
Astonished but quietly glad that he actually remembers you, you shrug your shoulders as nonchalantly as humanly possible and take your helmet clean off. No use hiding now. “Circumstances change.” Motioning to the girl beside him, you try not to look to curious or affected by it at all. If he had a wife that he was stepping out in, you don’t want to make waves. “For you, too.”
"Who, her? Joel points at Ellie and shakes his head. "No, she's cargo." He huffs, not wanting you to believe that this girl is his. "Transporting her." He doesn't want to admit it, but you look good, softer - even with the harsh tactical gear.
“Well…I’m sure you’re not aching to rehash old times.” Although now that he’s seen your face, you have to admit that you are. “I’ll go get your food.”
"Wait." Joel steps forward almost instinctively, not wanting you to leave right away. He's wondered about you since that night, no matter how he's tried to just forget about it. Wondering if you had gone west like you planned and he wonders what had kept you here.
"Well, that's interesting." Ellie huffs, making him turn around and glare at her.
"Unless you need to go." Joel adds, feeling foolish.
“I’ll see if Zach can take over on the catwalk for me.” As much as you’re trying to guard yourself, you do want to talk to him again. You’ve literally dreamt of seeing him. Of a night or day just like this when he would come walking up to the colony gates looking for you. Except he wasn’t actually looking for you. He’s just hungry and transporting some teenager. “Sit with you for a little?”
Joel nods, slightly relieved that you aren't just walking away. "Yeah." He rasps out. "That'll be good." You turn around and walk away, leaving him with a smug Ellie, smirking at him like she knows something he doesn't. "What?" He demands harshly, sending her a glare that would make other men piss themselves but she just smirks harder.
“Who’s your pretty lady friend?” Ellie snickers, enjoying the hell out of Joel’s discomfort. He doesn’t show his cards often, but she loves it when he does.
"None of your fuckin' business." He grumbles, relaxing a bit now that he knows you're here. He sets the rifle down and shuffles the back off his back, relishing the relief from the weight. "I don't ask you about your life."
“It means something,” she argues, taking his relaxation as a signal that it’s safe to plop down in one of the folding chairs at the table that takes up most of the room. “You’ve fucking slept with your finger on the trigger. Now she’s here and you’re all trusting? It’s worth asking questions about.”
"It means I've met her before." Joel counters, shucking his jacket and rolling it up to tie to his pack. He wishes he had known you were here. He would have tried - well, there was nothing he could have done if he had known. It wasn't like he was going to pick you flowers and bring them to you like a beau coming to court you. You had one unforgettable night and for all he knows, you've got someone in your life.
“Yeah,” Ellie laughs. “From old times.”
"Aren't you like 13?" He rolls his eyes and pulls out a chair to sit down, groaning slightly at how good it feels on his back. "A year is old times to you, kiddo." It's shocking sometimes how much she can remind him of Sarah. The sass is a little sharper, but the smart mouth of the teenager has made him snort several times when she wasn't paying attention.
“So you knew her a year ago?” Ellie has been quick to pick up on his dropped facts, realizing he does it when something scratches at a particular thought or memory.
Joel narrows his eyes at her in warning but she just raises her brow at him. "Last time I was outside the walls." He admits, reaching up and rubbing his jaw with his hand. "She told me about this place."
“So she’s why we’re here?” Interesting that Joel actually listened to someone long enough to even absorb what they were saying. He’s not exactly chatty.
"No." Joel shakes his head, looking around the room. "We're here for the four-star accommodations." He jokes, knowing the girl doesn't have a clue what he is talking about.
“And for dinner.” Appearing in the doorway with three bowls of soup, some bread, and glasses of clean water, you carefully balance the tray until you can get close enough to the table to set it down. Luckily you’ve been in and out of this room enough times that you know exactly how many steps it takes to get from the door to the table. Six.
Joel leans forward and takes one of the glasses of water but he doesn't touch the soup or the bread. He trusts you, but that's not why he isn't eating. Instead he moves a bowl and a large portion of the food in front of the kid and nods to her. "Eat."
Ellie doesn’t have to be told twice, applying herself to the meal that’s available to her enthusiastically in the hopes that Joel will forget she’s in the room and talk freely. Gossip is the best she can do for entertainment half the time.
“You too.” The second bowl of soup and the last of the bread is set down for Joel, and you take the third bowl off the tray for yourself before handing out spoons.
"After the kid eats her share." Joel takes a sip of his water, knowing that he won't eat a bite until she is full. He hadn't eaten yesterday so she could have more. He could do without.
“Joel.” You would roll your eyes but you know what it is to be hungry. “There’s more in the kitchen. There’s plenty. Please, eat.”
He watches you for a moment before he nods, pulling the bowl towards him and immediately starts eating with the same tenacity as the kid.
You have to wonder how long they've been out in the wilds. It's a long way from the Boston QZ and they had said yesterday was their last meal, but you aren't sure it wasn't longer ago than that. Instead of asking questions you just have your own bowl, letting the silence be filled by nothing more than the sound of eating for now.
Joel is a fast eater. Has always been one. Oftentimes swallowing down meals to beat a timed clock to get to work on time, or to have a few minutes to rest before the lunch break was over on a job site. So he's the first one that is pushing the bowl away, not completely satisfied but the hollow ache is gone for now.
"There's more," you remind him, not trying to push but wanting - for your own reasons - for him to be taken care of.
"Maybe in a few minutes." Joel nods his head towards the girl. "Don't want her to throw it all up. Waste of food."
The girl grumbles and makes a face, but doesn't say anything, and you nod for now. "So...you're headed through? On your way from Boston to wherever?" For some reason you just can't bring yourself to ask if he would stay, which is what you really want to know. Even for a single day.
Joel looks at the door and then at Ellie for a moment before he looks back at you. "Got to get the kid to the Fireflies." He tells you quietly. "Just left Pittsburg and had a little trouble there." He admits, the run in on the road making them abandon the car when it crashed into the bookstore.
"Shit." Your shoulders fall a little, finding out that he's been in danger, but you don't reach for his hand like you want to. "Do you need to lay low for a little bit? How much trouble is a little trouble?"
"It wouldn't hurt." Joel acknowledges, knowing that he had pushed the kid hard for the past week, wanting to put as much distance between them and the city. "Be even better if you had a car we could have."
"I can ask around." A few people have pieces they've been cleaning up to sell to travelers exactly like him, but you had sold yours before the baby was born to get formula powder, diapers, and the other necessities that came with raising a child. "There's...there's room at my place but..." When you exhale you shudder slightly, suddenly terrified at having to actually tell him what happened. Never having thought this day would actually come, you hadn't exactly prepared a speech. "There's something you should know first."
Joel tenses immediately, knowing that news is never good. This time he is expecting to hear that you have some man in your life. That you don't need him bringing up the past. "You don't have to worry about it." He tells you immediately. "Won't say anything about it." He doesn't want you to think that will say anything if you hadn't been free to have him touch you like he assumed.
"What?" It takes you a second, but your mind catches up to his defensiveness relatively quickly. "No, no...that's not...that's not it at all. It's actually...kind of the opposite of that." Glancing at the girl he's got with him, you swallow a solid ball of nerves and try not to grimace. "Not sure what you're okay with me saying..."
"Well if it's something to do with where we're stayin' she's gonna find out." He frowns, trying to figure out what the hell has you so flustered. "Might as well tell 'er now."
"That's fair." But it still makes you blow out a slow, anxious breath and look down at your hands in your lap instead of even trying to look him in the eye. "It's just...if either of you has an issue with being around a baby...I'll find you somewhere else to sleep."
"A baby?" Joel's eyes widen and he frowns. "You found a baby out here?"
"Not quite." Found isn't really the word you would use. "I..." Your fingernails bite into your palms, nerves making you close in on yourself. With no idea how Joel will react, you just dive in headfirst. "She's seven months old. A-and her name is Caroline."
It doesn't take long for Joel to put the pieces together. You look like you're about to shit a brick and twisting your hands together nervously. Seven months old plus the eight—nine months carrying her. Puts her conception right at the time where he had been outside the walls and met up with you for one night. Joel's chair scrapes the floor as he pushes it back abruptly and turns to stalk out of the room, needing fresh air before he passes out.
"Oh fuck," Ellie murmurs, eyes going wide as she looks between you. Whatever gossip she thought she was going to get, this is way better. "It's not like I could just call you." Immediately ready to defend yourself, you're also ready to collapse inwardly from the anger and hurt on his face. "Show up to a FERPA QZ unauthorized and they hang you, so it's not like I could go to Boston, either." Calling the baby Caroline had been your nod to the city where her father supposedly lived, and she's had Sweet Caroline sung to her as a lullaby every night of her very short life.
Your words stop him from leaving, his back turned to you and he tries to breathe but all he can see Sarah's lifeless eyes, unable to protect her. "I-I need— to go-out-outside." Joel chokes, out, stumbling for the door.
"Joel!" Turning to follow him right away, you pause only for a second to point a finger at the girl. "Stay here," you tell her firmly before going after the man who has no idea how to navigate the colony he's about to be ambling around blindly.
Joel hits the door, stumbling into the colder night air, stumbling off to the side and bends over as he tries to suck in lungfuls of air and put his head between his knees at the same time. Blind panic taking over as all he can hear is the rapid, panicked breaths of his dying daughter's last breaths, not realizing it's actually his own breathing.
"Joel." Shooting after him, you find him hyperventilating against a tree in the courtyard beyond the gate. This isn't the first time you've ever seen somebody have a panic attack - it's a regular occurrence to a certain extent - but since it's the first time you've ever had to tell a man that you gave birth to his child, you're a little shaken. "Joel, you gotta breathe, okay?" You kneel down beside him and gently put your hands on his shoulders, trying to figure out if touching him will be soothing or just spook him more. "Deep breaths. Long, steady exhales."
"I c-can't – you— you— ba-bab-baby—" Joel closes his eyes and stops breathing at one point before he starts to drop down to his knees in the dirt. Inhaling roughly and sounding like a man starved of oxygen finally getting a breath. Trying not to pass out from the rush of oxygen to his brain and he clenches his fists on his thighs.
"I don't want anything from you." What the hell could you even ask for? Child support? That's fucking laughable in the world you live in now. Dropping to your knees in the dirt next to him, one hand is one his back but you're trying to search his face for some kind of reaction beyond panic. "Caroline and I are as good as anybody can be with the way the world is, okay? You just concentrate on deep, looong breaths."
"I don't— I can't—" Joel chokes out a sob and his hand wraps around his watch. The last thing he has from his daughter. "Sarah." He manages, trying to steady his breathing.
"Sarah doesn't need to know." Finding out he does have someone waiting for him is a disappointing twist to your gut, but you can't be focusing on yourself right now.
He shakes his head, shoulders slumping down and he takes a moment before he manages to take an even steady breath. "Not—" He stops himself and reaches for your hand. "She's okay?" He asks. "You're okay?"
"Yeah." You nod and squeeze his hand, wondering what the hell is going through his mind. "Yeah, Joel. We're okay. One of my friends is watching her while I'm on night shift, but we're good. She's...she's my angel."
Joel closes his eyes and absorbs the news that once again - twenty years later - he's a father. He nods, squeezing your hand back before he opens his eyes, more in control of himself than he had been minutes before. "Okay." He rasps out.
"You don't owe us anything, and I'm not asking for anything." He hasn't taken his hand back and you're shamefully glad about it, enjoying the warmth of him again after so long. "You just...you deserve to know she's yours."
He doesn't think that you would lie about something like that. You weren't that type of person. "I— Ellie—" He twists his head around to find the girl outside and staring at him with wide eyes.
"You guys are safe here." Whoever this girl is she's more than just cargo, but you're not going to ask questions. You always got the feeling that Joel was into far more dangerous shit than you could ever stomach, and while that was part of the sex appeal it did also mean you weren't going to stick your nose in his business.
"You shoulda stayed inside." Joel manages to sound like himself when he addresses Ellie but the girl just shrugs.
"But I didn't." She counters back with a smirk. "I wanted to see you freak out over having a baby. Old fart."
"Accidents happen in the world." Shit happens, you know that, and while Caroline was unplanned you wouldn't trade her for the world. "We all process shit differently, Ellie."
"He doesn't." She mutters, some of her joy fading as Joel stumbles to his feet and turns to her.
"Take your time." Your hand on Joel's arm is solid and would be comforting if it weren't for the situation at hand. "I'll take Ellie back inside. Give you...ya know...time to absorb."
"No." Joel shakes his head, the same calm that he normally shows settling back over him. "I'm good." He looks towards Ellie and grimaces. "Can the kid get a bath?" He asks, knowing it's been a while. "Some clean clothes?"
"Yeah, of course." Anything he needs is his, you know yourself well enough to know that you'll give him anything you can without sacrificing what Caroline needs. "A bath, clean clothes, food, place to sleep, whatever. I meant it, you can stay with me as long as you need to."
The invitation to stay shouldn't be appealing, but it is. Right now, Joel just wants to see this daughter of his and get some sleep. He's exhausted and now that his stomach isn't growling, he wants to rest. "Okay."
"Go grab your packs from the room," you urge them both, glad to see Joel looking a little more like himself again. "I'll go check in with Zach and then I'll show you where you're staying."
Joel is quiet as the two of them collect their things, ignoring the obvious looks from Ellie as she tries to catch his eye so she can grill him. He can't do that right now. Meeting you back out front and Joel holds the rifle loosely in his hand. "Lead the way."
******
The small house you've been living in is one of the lakefront cottages that some rich family once upon a time must have used for vacations. It's a little thing with just enough room for you and Caroline and your friend who drops in a few times a week to look after the baby so you can relax or work your night shift for the security team. A lot of your time is spent with the other mothers in the colony anyway, giving a whole lot of proof to the phrase 'it takes a village'. "This is it." A half mile from the gates, you point out the little house that once had white paint and blue shutters, and now looks exactly like the windswept relic that it is. "Home sweet home."
It's the closest that he's seen to normal since the outbreak. His face relaxing even more, and he gives a small half smile as he looks at it. "You sure you want us in your space?"
"You have more right to it than anyone else." The shrug you offer him is a little lax, but it's the best you can do. "And Ellie here needs a good night's sleep."
"I'd fucking kill for a pillow." Ellie moans, her eyes fluttering in at the idea of it. "Hey." Joel bumps her shoulder and frowns at her.
"No, it's alright." You wave him off, not wanting him to worry about propriety when you pull the front door open. "There's a spare bedroom with a whole bed with blankets and pillows and everything for when my friend stays over." Nothing is exactly high quality, but at least it's there. The glancing look you give Joel, though, is cautious. "I can sleep on the couch so you can have a bed. It's okay."
“I’m not takin’ your bed.” Joel huffs. “I’ve slept in worse places than a couch.” He’s not going to kick you out of your bed, not when you’ve got a baby to take care of. “Keep your bed, honey.”
What you really want is to offer to share it, but you're not sure if that would be weird to say in front of the teen. "Kitchen and living room down here, bedrooms and bathroom upstairs." You lead the way into the house with your voice lowered and point down the left side of the hallway. "That's the guest room and the bathroom, Ellie. Knock yourself out. There's a towel in the cupboard after you're done and I'll find something of mine you can wear for pajamas. We'll wash your clothes at the lake tomorrow."
“I get a bed to myself?” Ellie’s eyes are wide and she’s not too interested in a bath but she knows she will feel better. “For real?”
"It's not big, but it's all yours." You nod and watch her disappear down the hall at top speed. "She's sweet. Mouth of a sailor, but sweet."
“She’s a pain in my ass.” Joel corrects you, even as he smirks listening to her squeal of delight and the heavy stomping of her feet since she knows she’s safe.
"Do you..." Motioning toward your bedroom door lamely, you can hear your friend on the other side murmuring softly. "Do you want to meet your daughter?"
Joel takes a deep breath and after a moment, he nods. Just one short tilt of his head. Exhaling slowly so he doesn’t freak out again.
When you open the door two sets of eyes find you immediately. Your friend Emma is confused, obviously, but Caroline's little face lights up and she starts babbling happily the second you appear. "Home early tonight," you explain, offering both girls a smile and reaching for the little bundle in Emma's arms. "How's mama's little angel tonight? Did she wake up wanting snuggles again?"
A baby. It’s been nearly thirty-five goddamn years since Joel has interacted with a baby. Unable to do anything but watch as a little human, a miniature version of you - thank God - coos and babbles at her mommy. Hands grabbing and an occasional squeal coming out of her tiny, yet forceful, mouth.
"She got a little fussy a half hour ago," Emma tells you. Her eyes never leave Joel, though, regardless of the fact that she's talking to you. "One a.m. like clockwork." Bundling Caroline up in your arms is easy. It's like the most natural thing in the world despite how scared you had been to bring a baby into this insanity of this world around you. "Well, I got news for you, baby girl," you coo at her and bounce her softly in for your arms. "You have somebody extra special to meet." Stepping just barely to the side, you nod to Joel and smile. "Emma, this is Joel." The introduction is simple, but that's because your friend knows exactly who Joel is to you. Why he's so important. "Caroline, baby," you press a kiss to her forehead. "You wanna meet your daddy?"
Joel can't even spare a glance for the girl once he sees the kid. Fear, joy, bone deep sorrow and relief that she looks healthy all bloom in his chest at the same time. Eyes focused on her, absorbing every minute movement as you interact with his daughter. He moves forward, barely an inch, without even realizing it. Leaning in so he can see her better. See the child that he had created with you even though he had pulled out and thought that he had been fast enough. He knows that's not foolproof, and the evidence is right in front of him.
“Do you want to hold her?” Not knowing anything about Joel’s life before the Outbreak, you have no idea if this is the first time he’s held a baby or the millionth. He might hate them for all you know. Some people do, after all.
“No.” Joel rocks back and shakes his head immediately. “I’m— I’m dirty. I shouldn’t. I’ve been outside and who knows what I’ve picked up.” The idea of infecting this innocent baby makes his heart pound. “I— no.”
“Okay.” The panic on his face is unexpected, and surprisingly disappointing, but you nod and continue to bounce Caroline gently. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…you don’t have to be her father. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s not—” Joel cuts himself off and sighs. “I’ve been traveling for weeks. And had to— the clickers….” He mumbles, looking down at his filthy hands. “I need to clean up.”
“I’m gonna go.” Emma murmurs, grabbing her sweater from the old rocking chair and eyeing the two of you awkwardly. “Come by tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” You nod, reaching to squeeze her shoulder with one hand in silent thanks for everything she does to help you. “Thanks, Em.”
Joel listens as she goes down the stairs and out the door. Alone with you after over a year and there’s this baby in your arms. Taking him back to his early twenties, reminding him of when Sarah was that size. He clears his throat. “I— can I clean up?” He asks, knowing you might not have clothes for him to wear but it would be good to scrub the filth from his body.
“Y-yeah, of course.” You have your own bathroom, attached to your bedroom, and you know for a damn fact that if you hadn’t repaired this place yourself when you got to Lake City you’d be sharing it with at least one or two other families. But you put your foot down and you leaned on the pregnancy sympathy and you got it for you. Or really, for Caroline. “Through that door. I’m not sure if I have clothes you can wear, but I’ll look.”
“Thank you.” With one last look at the baby, Joel strides into the bathroom and closes the door. Amazed that there is a private space for you, that he’s got a baby he helped create. The mirror above the sink is old, the silver coating peeling but he looks into it and wonders when the hell he got so many grays in his hair.
Caroline frowns heavily when Joel disappears from her limited line of sight, and you coo at her quietly while he cleans himself up. “It’s okay, sweet Caroline,” you murmur, cradling her close. “Everything’s okay. He’ll be right back, baby girl. Don’t be sad.”
In the bathroom, Joel strips down, eager to be clean for the first time in who knows how long. The water isn’t warm but it’s fresh. Making him groan under the spray and watch as swirls of dirt and filth rush down the drain.
The sound of the shower running only lasts a few minutes, but you knock on the door when he’s done and call his name quietly. “Joel? I’ve got some things that might fit you. I’ll leave them in the bed for you while I get Caroline a snack, ok?”
“Thank you.” Joel calls out, stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. It’s the cleanest he’s felt in a long time and the lure of clean clothes is hard to resist.
******
You’re downstairs with a happily babbling little girl thoroughly enjoying her applesauce when Joel appears in the doorway, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. He looks like an entirely new man - fresh and clean like he just washed up after work and it’s a completely normal day in a completely normal world. If not for the peeling paint and candlelight, you could almost pretend the Outbreak had never happened. That this is just life with your baby and the man who gave her to you.
"Hey, uh..." Joel frowns slightly, feeling awkward and not wanting to overstep in any way when you have been so kind to him. "I left my clothes in the bathroom. Didn't— they need to be washed." He explains, lifting a hand to run it through his squeaky-clean hair.
“I’ll take them to the lake tomorrow when I do Ellie’s.” You offer, assuming they’ve been traveling hard and will need to rest. Joel isn’t a gentle kind of guy.
"I can wash our clothes." Joel tells you. "You don't need to add more to your plate for us. You already have enough." His eyes turn back towards the baby and he is still startled by the large dark eyes watching him. Reminding him again of Sarah as a baby.
“Then we’ll go together.” That’s fine with you, it’s an excuse to spend more time with him. “This one keeps things plenty messy.” You grin and blow Caroline a kiss. “Don’t you, sweetie?”
Joel nods and licks his lips slightly as he watches the girl react to it. Waving her hands and grinning at her mother. She's getting sleepy, her eyes starting to drift closed before she wakes herself up and waves her arms around with a squeal. It makes Joel smile, just a tiny one, but he does.
“Looks like it’s bedtime.” There aren’t baby monitors or fancy cell phones to use as video equipment anymore, but you have Caroline’s bassinet set up in the corner of your bedroom and that’s all you need, putting her in her basket-turned-carrier anytime you leave the house together. “If you’re tired, we can talk tomorrow?” There hadn’t been much talking with Joel a year ago. It was fast and needy and amazing, but it certainly wasn’t romantic dinners or dates strolling through the park philosophizing about life. Wanting to know him now is just because of Caroline, you tell yourself, even though you know that’s a lie. You hadn’t ever stopped thinking about this man. “If you want, I mean.”
He wants to talk to you but he's also knows that you need to sleep and so does the baby. "Yeah." He nods, shuffling slightly. "We can talk in the morning. Go put the baby to bed and get some rest." He suggests, not hearing Ellie upstairs and he knows she's probably passed out.
“Sure.” You nod, hoisting Caroline up in your arms and picking up the hat of applesauce to put it back in the barely functioning refrigerator. “Just, um…” A smile cracks your tired face when you look at him, you just can’t help it. “It’s good to see you, Joel.”
"It's good to see you too, honey." He remembers calling you that during that one night. It wasn't like he didn't remember every single second of that night after he had left you. He isn't in love with you, that would be foolish, but you had stayed in his mind and now he's seeing you again.
“There’s blankets and extra pillows on the couch.” You want so badly to have just the casual intimacy that would allow you to kiss his cheek, but that night was a long time ago and things are different now. Or at least you tell yourself that they are, because it makes you behave yourself. “Good night.” You turn for the stairs, gently patting Caroline’s back as you go, wanting her to settle in and sleep through as much of the night as possible. You don’t know if you’ll sleep, with Joel so near, but she should be able to have wonderful dreams.
******
Joel, when he's not popped any pills, is a light sleeper. Not sure when it is, but the sun is still down, jerking awake and listening for a moment for what had pulled him out of restless dreams of Sarah when she was a baby. Then he hears it again. A small cry. Not loud enough to really upset the household but the first unhappy sounds of a baby. Grunting, Joel rolls off the couch and stands. Starting to slowly make his way up the stairs. Expecting to hear your voice as he goes, but he still just hears the kid. Until he pushes the cracked door open and sees the small light, the baby moving in her bed in a corner and Joel looks over to see you sprawled out, still asleep. Another small grunt makes his head snap back towards the cradle and he moves towards it slowly.
She looks up at him with curiosity - not scared of him or disliking the look of him, apparently - just upset that in this exact moment there is no one holding her. Whatever the reason, whether it was a bad dream or an upset stomach or general discomfort, little Caroline reaches up her arms to ask to be held as another small cry escapes her trembling lips.
He doesn't hesitate more than a second, watching her as he reaches down and picks up the small girl. Instantly flashing back to when he routinely carried around another baby. He cradles his daughter in his arms and cuddles her close. "Hey baby girl." He croons softly, not wanting to wake you up but happy that she isn't crying now that he's holding her.
It’s sometime after that, that the nightmare starts. You’re oblivious to the world while you sleep heavily in your bed, and the nightmares come out of nowhere. Memories of the Outbreak mix with Caroline’s birth, with terrifying thoughts of losing her or seeing her turned as a child or even a full grown woman. Fear of infection grows in you exactly like the fungus the whole world has grown to fear, and you wake up in a panic that has you covered in sweat. Only to see Joel sitting in the rocking chair under the window with Caroline against his chest like nothing in the world has ever gone wrong in the first place.
"You woulda liked her." His hand is firm on her back, the warmth from her little body against his skin keeps him grounded. "Or she woulda loved you. She woulda fussed and cooed over you like you were the most precious thing." He thinks Caroline likes the rumble of his voice, the vibration from his chest. "She always wanted to be a big sister."
“Wha—what?” You can hear Joel talking but can’t quite make it out. Digging your way out of the mire of nightmares is like slogging through mud. “Is everything okay?”
Joel startles slightly, not enough to disturb Caroline, but he turns his head towards you. "I didn't wake you, did I?" He asks, frowning slightly at the thought. "Didn't mean to."
"No." Wiping one hand down your face, you shift to sit up in bed and get a better look at Caroline in his arms. "No, I, um...nightmare." You shrug one shoulder lamely.
"I was tryin' to let you sleep." Joel looks back down at Caroline and then back at you. "She got a little fussy but she was good as soon as I picked her up."
"I don't normally sleep so deeply." Damn nightmares kept you from hearing Caroline, which you hate, and you scrub both palms down your face in dismay. "I'm sorry she woke you up."
"Don't worry about that." Joel can't help but lean his head over, running his nose over her soft head and down her cheek. "I was just talkin' to her. Tellin' her about things."
"What kind of things?" Instantly you wish he was sitting on the couch or in bed with you so you could cuddle up together. A domestic thought that makes you wish you were a family.
Joel rubs her back gently when she squeals and then settles back down against his shoulder, chuckling softly. “I was tellin’ her about…Sarah.”
"Who is Sarah?" He had said the name earlier, but you weren't about to interrogate him in the middle of a panic attack.
He closes his eyes and nuzzles the baby again, remembering how soft and sweet they could smell when they are clean and sleepy. “She…she was my daughter.”
You don't miss the was in the sentence, and you suck in a cautious breath. "I'm sorry." Now that you have Caroline, you can't imagine the pain of losing her. No wonder he panicked when you told him he had another.
“It was a long time ago.” Joel mutters softly, his eyes opening and finding yours, seeing the sorrow in them. “She woulda been 32, laughing her ass off at her old man finally givin’ her the sister she asked for for Christmas every year.”
Before the Outbreak. You swallow, nodding as you absorb this new information. “If she was anything like you, she’d rib you mercilessly.” What little you do know of him, Joel teases as a sign of affection.
“Endlessly.” Joel knows what it’s like being a single parent, he hasn’t forgotten. “Her mother…left us when Sarah was three months old.” He decides he owes you this, you are connected with him in a way that fundamentally changes things. “I raised her, she had a...a way that just made me marvel at how smart she was. Quick witted.” His foot pushes off the floor and rocks the chair gently. “Until….”
“You don’t have to tell me if I’m you don’t want to.” If it will hurt you. The last thing you want is to hurt him in any way. Not when…when you feel about him like you do, and when he’s given you something as incredible as Caroline.
The baby squirms, capturing his attention for a moment and he rubs her back soothingly. “It’s okay. She— the day it happened – ‘Outbreak Day’ – it was my birthday.”
“Shit.” Shifting forward in your bed, you instinctively reach out to touch his knee. “I’m so sorry.”
“You know how it was.” Joel grunts. “Chaos. A plans crashed and the truck we were in flipped.” He can see it, plain as day. “Her ankle was hurt so I carried her and the Army— they—” He closes his eyes and squeezes them tight. “They shot us.”
“Assumed infected.” You sigh, looking down at your hand on his knee before realizing it’s probably an overstep and recoiling. “The Army took at least one person from all of us. People who could have survived. Who were fine.”
“They killed a twelve-year-old girl.” Joel hisses. “My baby girl.”
“And they killed my seventeen-year-old sister.” He’s not the only one who lost someone, but it’s obvious that his loss is still as fresh as the day Sarah was shot. “I-I’m sorry, Joel. I am.”
“I’m sorry about your loss.” He rumbles out softly. “We’ve all lost people.”
“We have.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But…we also gained someone. Tiny and fussy and she’s got the best laugh in the whole world. I’m just…I’m glad you got to meet her.”
“I’m sorry.” Joel shakes his head, even as he cuddles her closer. “I didn’t mean to – I shoulda pulled out sooner, I guess.” He knows that he could have gotten you pregnant from precum but he still feels guilty.
“I appreciate that, but…now that’s she’s here? I wouldn’t trade her for the world.” The times of being angry with him for what happened are far behind you at this point. You knew the risk you were taking having unprotected sex - you had just wanted Joel too desperately to care.
“I never expected to see you again.” He admits quietly. “Thought you would be out west somewhere. Thought about it some.”
“You thought about me?” You probably sound more surprised than you should, considering how often you think about him, but you had assumed he would have forgotten about you fairly quickly. He had nothing like your reason to remember.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Joel frowns slightly and tilts his head at you. “Thought we had a good night. Conversation…what happened after.” He smirks slightly.
“I thought we had a fantastic night.” And you hadn’t wanted to let yourself be overly sentimental in dreaming that he might still think about you sometimes. “I just didn’t know what you were going back to, so I kind of…didn’t want to let myself get sentimental, ya know?”
Joel snorts and shakes his head. “Some things you just don’t do.” He murmurs. “End of the world or not.” He and Tess hadn’t been exclusive, hell – she hadn’t even really been in his bed for a month before he had met you. Not that it matters now.
"Doesn't mean you couldn't have met somebody else since." There had been a million different ways that you had talked yourself out of getting maudlin over his memory or overly attached to fantasies of him, and you shrug a little while you watch him rock your now sleeping baby. "It was easier not to let myself dream about you."
“Naw… nothing—” He clears his throat. “Nothing that actually matters now.”
"I'm not expecting you to drop everything because of her." That's not something you would have asked of him even in the time before, and you're certainly not going to ask it of him now. The world has changed, even if people are fundamentally the same. "But we won't say no to visits now and then if you're still traveling."
He’s quiet for a minute, stewing as he contemplates what to do. “I’ve got to go.” He admits after a long moment. “Get the girl to the Fireflies.”
"Yeah, you said." It hurts more than you want to admit, because you want him to drop everything and stay with you. To be with you and Caroline. It's such a juvenile fantasy in some ways, but the way you've felt about Joel for the last almost year and a half is undeniable. "But like I said...if you ever came back this way...we would be glad to see you."
He can hear it in your voice, twisting his head so that he can look at you. “She’s important.” He tells you quietly, hoping that he can trust you. “Special.” He adds meaningfully.
“She seems like a good kid.” A little foul-mouthed maybe, but you had been too, at her age. And that was without the world collapsed around you. “I just want you to know you’re welcome here, that’s all. Caroline is…she’s your blood. And if you want to know her, you should be able to.”
He should be grateful that you are telling him that. That he can live his life and not worry about the baby he’s fathered. But it irritates him. “You aren’t goin’ west anymore? You could.”
“I can’t protect her on my own.” It’s something that you struggled with. The change to your plans to go west and find what remained of your family had been abandoned when you figured out that your sickness was pregnancy and not any of the thousand other things it could be. “I stayed and worked on the house so she could be safe. I have no business going west anymore.” As much as it hurts you, you really can’t. Caroline instantly became and will always be your first priority. “Not until she’s older, anyway. A lot older. And by then who knows what will have happened.”
“I’ve got to get to Jackson. My brother Tommy, he’s missing’ and that’s where he was last.” Joel shuffles Caroline so that she’s cradled in the curve of his arm.
“Wyoming?” He said west, not south, so it’s an informed guess. And an ironic coincidence, if it’s true. “I…I used to have people out there. I don’t know if they’re still there or still alive, but they were in Jackson last I heard.”
Joel nods, confirming he meant Wyoming. The idea of traveling with a baby isn’t a pleasant one. It makes things hundreds of times more complicated, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to leave the two of you, wondering what would happen to you.
“Could I send a letter with you, maybe?” Just being able to tell your surviving family that you’re okay - safe and with a baby - would be such a relief. “If you don’t run into them or can’t find them, that’s fine. But just in case?”
Joel is quiet for a long minute, mulling over everything. “If we had a car, we could go. All of us.” Joel murmurs quietly, unsure of your willingness to travel with Caroline.
“You want us to go with you?” It honestly wasn’t something you had expected. If anything, you would have been ecstatic to have him come back to you when everything was over.
“Only if you think you can handle it.” Joel tells you quickly. “It’s not going to be stroll. It’ll be dangerous. And the baby will need to be protected.”
“I’ve been out there before,” you remind him. It’s how you met, after all. Or at least it’s where you met. Out in the wilds. “It’s how I know I can’t do it alone. But two of us? That’s…that’s different.”
Joel looks at you, “how much can we get?” He asks, wanting to know about supplies. A car, horses, whatever could be had here.
“A lot of people want this house.” A safe place to live is invaluable, and this one has the benefit of the small garden Emma helped you start. “I’ve got good food stores and medical supplies. Clothes, soap, a knife and an axe.” You had built up this house to be where you raised your daughter, so you had stocked up supplies, too. “We could trade the house for a car and whatever else we need.”
“If you’re wantin’ to stay here, I won’t blame you.” Joel strokes the baby’s face gently and smiles when she reaches up and grabs his finger while she sleeps. “It’s a nice life you have here and it – it’ll be hard out there.”
“This is as good a life as we can hope for anymore.” That’s true, and it makes a part of you ache that you actually aren’t very happy here. You have everything you need, Caroline is safe, and there’s less violence than in a lot of other places - but you feel isolated regardless. Even the friends you’ve made feel like placeholders compared to your family. “But I really don’t know.” Is it worth giving up security for happiness? How will you know which will make Caroline happier?
“If you want to go, I’ll get you there.” Joel promises you, serious about that. He will do anything to protect you and the baby. Ellie too. “I promise.”
“I miss my family.” It comes out small, more ashamed than you’d like, as you watch Joel cradle your daughter in his arm. “I think I’d give anything to have my family back. Anything but Caroline.”
“Nothing wrong with missing family, baby.” Joel hums quietly, thinking about Tommy….and Sarah. “Sometime the only reason to go on if for people we care about.”
“Do you keep going for Tommy?” It’s an intensely personal question, but the connection you share with him now just as intensely personal as you could have with another person.
“I did.” Joel admits, his brother the most important person in the world to him until recently. Or tonight.
“Did?” You ask, your eyebrows knitting together, wondering why he’s talking like his brother is dead when he just said he was going to find him.
“Did.” Joel murmurs softly, leaning down and pressing his lips to Caroline’s forehead. “Now I’ll keep going for her.” He tells you, looking up when he pulls away from his daughter.
______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger​
My Masterlist!
4K notes · View notes
theemporium · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends! .
Max Verstappen wasn’t really good when it came to words. He never had been. 
When Max was told to express his emotions—any of them—it was like a part of his brain switched off and everything became more difficult. It was hard for his brain to wrap around his thoughts, process them and vocalise them. It was difficult for him to say the words that flowed so easily for other people.
When his dad was yelling at him, the fear locked him down before he could even utter a word. When he was happy, the adrenaline made it easy to act instead of thinking. When he was scared or excited or angry, it never mattered. Max Verstappen just couldn’t seem to voice any of the feelings rushing through him. 
And that was the case of love—the most overwhelming and suffocating emotion of them all—Max could barely keep his head on right. 
As cheesy and cliche as it sounded, Max didn’t believe in love at first sight until he met you. He didn’t realise it was love, not really, but he knew that the tightening feeling in his chest and surprisingly pleasant twist in his stomach only urged him to close the distance between you and introduce himself. And he was right. It was love. It was so much more than love, even if it took him a few months to realise it. 
There was never a doubt in your mind that Max loved you, but he just didn’t show it the same as others did. 
You first experienced Max’s love around two months into the relationship. 
Timing for a relationship—romantic or not—was never an easy thing in the world of Formula One. Ironically enough, Max thought the universe was on his side when he met you during the summer break. It was four weeks of bliss. Four weeks of pushing every racing thought away from his brain—something that once seemed impossible—and just focusing on you. 
Even as the season returned, the few weekends away didn’t seem like such a big deal when the two of you were giddy and happy and buzzing to explore this new, bubbling connection. 
But then a triple header came around and Max, for the first time in his life, was annoyed by his job. 
He didn’t like being away from you. He didn’t like the fact he couldn’t just drag you along with him, from country to country like the greedy man he wanted to be. He didn’t like that he was so wrapped up with training and racing and resting that the communication between you two was already getting difficult and you hadn’t even left the honeymoon phase.
It was odd to be so happy for the triple header to end, to cross that line on Sunday and know he had at least two weeks before he had to leave you again. It felt odd that he had found something that he adored as much as racing outside of his job. 
Except, despite feeling every single word he thought, he never said it to you.
Instead, he had wandered into your apartment after stopping by his own and simply grinned at you when you opened the door, a brown paper bag in hand as he said, “I’ve got something for you.”
It was a magnet. In fact, it was three magnets, each from the country he visited. 
And maybe to others, it wasn’t much. And maybe to others, it was a little tacky. But to you, it was everything and more. It told you that even when he was away, even when he was working, even when he had a million things on his mind, Max still thought of you. 
It was a reoccurring tradition that continued throughout your relationship. 
At the most random times on the most random days, Max would hand you a brown paper bag that held some stupidly adorable and sentimental gift that made your heart explode. He bought you other gifts, big and extravagant and expensive ones that made your head spin a little, but the ones that came in a brown paper bag were your favourite.
They were thoughtful and heartwarming and they decorated your apartment like little reminders of the man you loved. 
So, three years into your relationship with Max, it was no surprise when you found him in the kitchen one morning, two plates of french toast and a brown paper bag lying by the counter. 
“Hm, forgot to give me it last night?” You teased as you slid into a stool, grinning at him as he passed you a mug—coffee made just how you liked it—before he slid into the stool next to you.
“I was distracted,” Max retorted with a matching grin on his face as he leaned down to peck your lips. “Can’t blame me.”
“I can forgive you this once, I guess,” you said, sighing a little dramatically as you did just because hearing Max laugh was one of your favourite sounds. “Especially if it is one of those cute figurines you sent me pictures of.” 
“I think you’ll like it all the same,” Max said, and maybe if you were a little more awake you would have noticed the hint of nervousness in his voice as he reached over for the bag and slid it towards you. 
“Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it,” you assured the boy, because you always did. Because whatever it was, it meant he was thinking of you—of your reaction—when he bought it and that was more than enough. 
You didn’t comment on his sudden silence as you took the bag, reaching inside to feel a small box between your fingers. You looked up at him with an unsuspecting smile, not even fully realising what sat in your palm when you opened the box until your eyes flickered down and you froze. 
Because it wasn’t the figurine. It wasn’t another pair of earrings he saw at a local market. It wasn’t a funny crystal that he swore was meant to bring good fortune. It wasn’t a magnet. 
No, because the gift inside of the brown paper bag—the gift that was currently sitting in the palm of your hand—was a ring box. 
A ring box with the most perfect fucking ring staring back at you. 
“Max?” His name barely a whisper because that was all you could manage, that was all you were able to get out as you turned to look at him. Your vision was starting to blur with tears but so were his. And fuck, his blurry, smiling face was the prettiest sight you had ever fucking seen. 
“Marry me?” He asked, because he was Max. He was your Max. He didn’t do big speeches or love confessions. He didn’t do over the top celebrations or huge parties when it came to the things that mattered, the intimate moments that didn’t require an audience. 
He didn’t need anything more than a brown paper bag, a question and you. 
“I am gonna marry the shit out of you,” you managed to mutter out before you launched yourself at him, practically climbing onto his lap as he laughed and hugged you close and didn’t let go until your coffee was cold and the tears were gone and there was a pretty fucking ring on your finger. 
Max Verstappen wasn’t good with words, but he had other ways of showing he loved you and there was no doubt in your head that he did.
.
1K notes · View notes
acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Eleven — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader receives a much-needed pep talk in Velaris and gets thinking. Azriel receives a lecture in Windhaven by a frustrated Rhysand. Reader is surprised by an unexpected visitor to the City of Starlight.
Word count:
Warnings: A little bit of smut, 18+, minors dni.
Tumblr media
Velaris feels like an entire world away from Windhaven.
You’ve been here only once before, when, as mischievous fourteen-year-olds, Rhysand had brought you. The High Lord had been in another court on business, which had seemed like the perfect time for Rhys to show you his other home. Only, his father had returned early, and had thundered — hard enough to shake the mountains — about strangers entering the shielded city without formal invitation. Not you, nor Cassian, nor Azriel, had been back since.
And that lingering encounter was why, when Roza brought you here three days earlier, you’d been nervous about coming face-to-face with the High Lord yet again.
But the handsome, roguish male had merely given you a long, slow perusal, and then smiled a charming smile — about the only thing Rhys seems to have inherited from him — and welcomed you to his home for as long as you do so please.
It’s tranquil, there’s no doubt about that. Light and airy and so beautiful that you can forget, for a time, that there’s a world outside the City of Starlight. You’ve spent the last three days at Roza’s side, exploring the city and helping her run light errands, and attending to her at the end of the day when the pregnancy tires her out.
The High Lord — Finadar, or Fin, as you’ve learned most people call him — does no such thing. He does not visit his pregnant mate after long, tiring days. Does not summon her.
Despite the growing new arrival in her belly, there’s a distinct lack of love between the two of them that surprises you, perhaps more than anything else.
But tonight, with Roza joining him for a public appearance, you’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time in three days. And you’re desperate to do anything to fight them off.
You wander the long, spacious halls of the High Lord’s opulent home, warm, despite the brutal mountain range that stands guard around it. This is a level of luxury you were never built for, and don’t quite know what to do with. You read from Roza’s broad selection of literature, and gorge on sweets in the kitchen, and slide along the polished floors on your socks, because why the fuck not.
It’s better than thinking. Anything is better than thinking.
But as the night wears on and the silence gets too loud, it’s hard to keep deeper thoughts at bay. Your heart aches relentlessly over the broken shards of your loving friendship group that you don’t know how to glue back together. Your mind swoons longingly over old memories, old smiles. You’re a hollow vessel of complications, and regrets, and excruciating love—
“I heard you were here.” A trilling voice echoes from the far end of the hall you’re traversing.
You turn, and you think you might choke out a strangled noise of relief at the sight of shimmering, golden curls and warm, brown eyes, huge like a doe’s.
Mor looks far better than the last time you saw her, that’s for sure. She’s always radiant, no matter what she has going on, but the sun-kissed glimmer has returned to her skin, and the gaunt fragility from her hardships has been snuffed out by delicious, enviable curves.
You’re in front of her in what feels like a few great strides, and she’s cupping your face in her hands and kissing both of your cheeks.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathe, realising, in that moment, just how much you have. She doesn’t spend as much time in Windhaven as she used to, and gods, the absence of a sincere female friend is a weighty one.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Concern fills her eyes as she studies you.
“Rhys, Az and Cass aren’t here. It’s just me—”
“I know.” She links her arm through yours. “And let’s be glad of it. I’ve had enough of males to last me a damn eternity.” She’s barely taken a few steps forward before she’s stopping and studying you again. “Roza tells me you’re having a hard time.”
Just like that, you feel yourself begin to crumble. There’s something about the concern of others that utterly obliterates the walls you try to craft around yourself.
And at the first glimpse of tears filling your eyes, Mor is tugging you along again.
“Come.” She says. “I know where the High Lord keeps his stash of booze.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“You don’t ever come to Windhaven anymore. Why is that?”
There’s the slightest tensing in the set of Mor’s shoulders as she returns the stopper to a decanter containing dark amber liquid. She turns, handing you a glass.
“I figured you knew.” She says. “My father is being strict about me not spending time there.”
On some level, you think you did know. It’s not hard to figure it out.
For a time, Mor was a pretty frequent member of your friendship group, visiting as often as she could — until a few years ago, when a fight broke out between Cassian and Rhys, and then Mor just stopped coming around. The matter was swept under the rug and not mentioned again. But with her father being so strict—
“Ah.” You murmur, the pieces clicking into place. “Cass, huh?”
Mor snorts softly. “Yes. Cass.” She shakes her head fondly. “Before you ask, no, I don’t have feelings for him. Not like that. It was just…a choice I made for myself. And I’ve never regretted it, even if my father is determined to make my life hell because of it. But I didn’t come here to talk about me.” Her eyes rake over you. “Tell me everything.”
So, you do. The words come spilling out of you in a flurry of shame and heartache. You tell her every damn detail and spare none. And when you’re finally done, you take a breath and wonder — not for the first time — how the fuck you’ve managed to create this situation for yourself.
Mor frowns at you. “I—” She seems genuinely speechless. “Cauldron, I thought my situation was complicated.”
You shake your head. “I’ve made such a mess of things, Mor.”
“Why haven’t you told Azriel how you feel?”
“I wanted to. Gods, I planned to. But I supposed walking in on him and Kaeda made me realise that there’s no point.”
“First of all, that’s bullshit.” She takes a seat opposite you. “Love is one of very few things that there is always a point to. Your self-loathing my try to convince you otherwise, but it’s always better to be honest and face whatever outcome than suffer in silence and wonder what would have been.”
You open your mouth, but she’s holding up a hand.
“Secondly, I don’t like the sound of this Kaeda one bit. I know almost nothing about Fenlaros, but what I do know is that she must have some sort of backing — not just that of her Camp Lord father — that gives her the ability to flounce in and out of a rival camp at her leisure without a single consequence. And that tells me she’s up to something. And that makes me nervous that it’s Azriel, of all people, that she’s attached herself to. Not that Az isn’t a total catch — of course, he is. But he’s also a very, very rare gift who always has sights set on him. I’d wager that that plays into Kaeda’s interest somewhere.”
You fall still in your seat, staring back at her.
You feel damn stupid for not seeing what she’s laid out before you with such clarity.
“You…don’t believe Kaeda’s interest in Az is genuine?” You ask. “I wondered why she was hanging around Windhaven, but I didn’t think…”
“I think she has ulterior motives.” Mor shrugs. “And if Az is in a blinding haze of lust — or even love — it’s not something he’s going to see for himself. He’ll need proof.”
“How could I possibly give him proof of something I’m not even certain about myself?”
“Perhaps you should play Kaeda at her own game. Do some sniffing around her and see what you find out. You’d only be looking out for Az, after all.”
Would you, though? You can’t deny that your feelings, your jealousy, would play a part. You should want, for Azriel’s sake, Kaeda to be genuine, whether your heart would get broken or not. But what you truly want is to show Az that—
That you’re better for him than she ever would be.
You want nothing more from or for him, than to make him happy.
You drag your lower lip between your teeth in thought. “What if it blew up in my face, though? I could just…end up making Az even more mad at me than he already is.”
“Which brings me to my third point. Why are you allowing Az to act like you’ve done anything wrong?”
“I slept with Cassian…”
“Welcome to the club. Tell me, Y/N. are you tied down to anyone?”
“Well, no—”
“Did you and Az agree to only have sexual relations with each other?”
“No—”
“Have you ever sworn off exploring such things with your other friends?”
“No, Mor.”
“Then Azriel has no right to be freezing you out the way he is. Is it messy? Yes. Have you created some tricky drama for yourself? Also yes. But he’s a damn hypocrite if he’s chastising you in one breath and jumping into bed with Kaeda in another.”
“That’s the thing, though.” Your gaze lowers to the table. “He says he hasn’t done anything with Kaeda, and I don’t think he would lie about that. I think…had I slept with anyone outside of our circle, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared. But it being Cassian is just…a bit too close to home for him. Especially given that Az and I were doing things, too.”
The gorgeous blonde rolls her eyes. “So, it’s an ego thing. Give me a break. If he didn’t want you to sleep with anybody else, he should have communicated that. You both should have communicated better.” A soft sigh leaves her. “Listen…Az will sulk for a little while, because that’s just what males do. He clearly has things he needs to work through, and when he has, you should talk. But in the meantime, perhaps you should try to find some more out about Kaeda and her intentions — for no other reason than that Azriel is your closest friend and you’re looking out for him. Perhaps being in Velaris is a blessing in disguise — I’m sure the High Lord could tell you a thing or two about the Fenlaros lot, if you ask nicely.”
So wise, so brilliant, is Mor. A female with such a good head on her shoulders, despite an environment that tries to wreck her.
She just…rationalises things, in a way that you’re not able to. And you hadn’t even considered talking to the High Lord.
You take a slow, pensive draw from your glass as you think on it. And then you’re deciding, “Perhaps I will speak with the High Lord. There’s nothing wrong with showing an interest in a rival camp, after all.”
“No.” Mor flashes a feral grin. “There is not.”
Perhaps it’s selfish, something felt at Azriel’s expense — but setting yourself a little task like this is precisely what you need.
You’ve wondered for a while what the hell Kaeda is doing in Windhaven. You’re determined to find out, one way or another.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Rhysand is balls deep and utterly lost in the male beneath him.
The noises that fill the room are sinful.
Midnight-kissed moans and panting as breathy and ethereal as a winter-chilled breeze.
This has been a long time coming, and Rhys is just so glad, in that moment, that he finally gets to be inside Zakai, that he thrusts deep and captures him in a full kiss. Zakai growls and grabs his ass, encouraging those thrusts.
Honestly? Rhys fucking needs this pleasure. Never did he think he’d actually be glad to get away to his room at the dormitories, but he needs a godsdamned break. Cassian’s sulking at the cottage has become unbearable since Roza swept Y/N off to Velaris.
If Cass and Az don’t sort their shit out soon, Rhys might just launch them off the peak of the nearest mountain.
Of course, they’d probably fight each other suspended in thin air, instead.
But he banishes those thoughts and gives himself entirely to Zakai, reaching down to fist at the pretty male’s cock. Neither of them will last long. This sex has been too highly anticipated, and it feels too good, and—
And the door is practically kicked in behind them. Azriel strides in as if it’s his fucking room.
“Get out, Az.” Rhys snarls, not faltering.
Az does not, in fact, get out. “Is it true Roza has taken Y/N to Ve—”
“For fuck’s sake.” He pulls out of Zakai with complete reluctance, grabbing clothes to cover them both. Zakai exhales a long sigh and tips his head back.
“Well?” Az demands. “Is it true?”
Rhys yanks some undershorts on. “Three days ago. You’d have found out sooner if you’d just quit your sulking and talk to us.”
“Why has she gone there?”
Zakai clears his throat, awkwardly shucking his clothes on. “Perhaps I should go…”
“No.” Rhys says.
But Az counters it with a dismissive, “Yes.”
The poor male stares between the two of them, and while he may have just been lying beneath the future High Lord, he doesn’t feel like getting in the way of a temperamental shadowsinger.
Rhys releases a yielding breath and grits his teeth. “Fine. I’ll catch up with you later, Zak.”
That’s all it takes for his pretty lover to leave, sex now a distant memory. Azriel shuts the door behind him.
“So?” He rounds on Rhys. “Why is Y/N in Velaris?”
Rhys rolls his eyes at his tone. It’s not exactly any use for Az to be frantic now. Bit too late for that, he thinks.
“Because she needed a break from this place. From you and Cass and Kaeda.”
“I told Y/N that Kaeda and I have not done anything.”
“And maybe you haven’t, Azriel. That’s your business entirely.” He throws himself onto the bed. “But have you stopped for five fucking seconds, amidst your brooding and self-pitying, to consider how it might have made Y/N feel to be the practice run?”
Azriel goes preternaturally still. Doesn’t know what to say.
And that’s fine, Rhys reckons, because he’s nowhere near fucking finished.
“You explored that intimacy with her under the pretence that you were merely refining those skills for another female’s benefit.” He continues. “Whether it was initially Y/N’s idea or not, you should have recognised right away that she deserves better than that. And then you had the absolute fucking audacity to get mad at her for sleeping with Cassian, at the same time she would naturally assume you were sleeping with Kaeda, when you actually have no right to be angry. So what if she slept with Cass? So what, Azriel, that she fell into the arms of somebody who actually made her feel chosen, and not like she was just a stepping stone to a greater pleasure?”
Silence.
Stunned, heavy silence.
This room is far too small for such strong, impassioned words. They hang threateningly in the air, and Azriel feels like he’s watching them fly towards him in slow motion like poison arrows closing in on their target.
And then the shadowsinger croaks, finally, “It’s not—like that. I never wanted it to be like that.”
Rhys shrugs. “I’m not sure you even know what you intended, Az. The whole thing is one big mess. I mean…why haven’t you had sex with Kaeda, if that’s what you were practicing for? Do you even like her?”
Az says nothing.
The lack of an answer is precisely what Rhys is expecting. Even makes his lips kick up into a smile.
He thinks he’s pretty damn wise, does Rhysand.
“I’ll wager,” he goes on, eyeing Az knowingly, “that the practice wasn’t about Kaeda at all. Perhaps it was, the very first time Y/N offered.” He rests his hands behind his head. “But then something happened between the two of you — perhaps a kiss, maybe even some touching, and you were struck down by a realisation that the rest of us saw coming years ago. That what exists between you and Y/N goes beyond friendship. What you have is something special. And getting a little taster of that under the ruse of practice sent you on a downward spiral. So many emotions. So much angst. Suddenly, you were acting irrationally, getting into fights. Not over Kaeda, no, but over Y/N. Seeing her with other males makes you feel sick to your stomach. And that is why you’re so angry with Cassian. Because he had sex with Y/N, and you want her, not Kaeda. You love her.”
Well.
Azriel may as well be standing there stark naked, for all Rhys has stripped him bare.
He feels like his skin has been peeled from his bones and a patchwork of ugly truths lies in its place. He wouldn’t be overly surprised to glance down and see writing covering every inch of his body in bold, alarming ink that reads: I AM IN LOVE WITH Y/N. I AM JEALOUS AND ARROGANT AND SELFISH. I AM SCARED.
He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. It doesn’t budge. “I never meant to make her feel like that.” He damn near wheezes, the words punching their way out of his lungs.
Rhys softens a little. “We know that, Az. But as long as you try to run from your feelings, you’ll be kicking dirt up at the people behind you.”
“I don’t…don’t know what to do — about anything.”
“You just need to stop trying to fool yourself. You need to make use of your space from Y/N and figure out what, exactly, it is you want, and what, exactly, you’re going to do about it. You need to accept that mistakes have been made all round, but not one of them is unable to be fixed. And you should start by mending things with Cassian.”
On instinct, Az scowls. He may know Rhys is right — and damn him for it, too — but he still can’t help being angry at Cass. The thought of his hands on Y/N—
“Wipe that look off your face, Azriel.” Rhys says drily. “You both know you miss each other, and you’re just as miserable as one another because of it. I’m not saying you should fix it today or even tomorrow — take your time to brood, if you like — but something has to give eventually. And if you won’t fix things for your sakes, do it for mine. Perhaps then I’ll be able to fuck Zakai and actually finish.”
This — these glimmers of wisdom and authority and reason — are like a little window into what Rhysand will one day be like as High Lord of the Night Court.
Azriel is glad of his friendship, his counsel. Even if he’s not quite ready to act on the advice yet.
“It’ll all be alright, Az.” Rhys says, studying him. The shadowsinger looks…lost. “But you should take the time to work things out before Y/N returns to Windhaven. She doesn’t need any more drama, and neither do you.”
Right again, of course.
Az can only manage to clear his throat and nod, before rasping out a quiet, “I will. Thank you.”
Rhys dips his chin. “I do love you, you know. I wouldn’t put sex aside for a conversation with just anyone.”
His answering smile is unconvincing. “I love you, too.”
“And you love Cass. So don’t wait too long to talk to him.”
Azriel inclines his chin. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“I’ll forgive you this time.”
The shadowsinger shoots him one last look that says far more than he can articulate in that moment. And then he’s slipping out of the room.
And as he walks away, he can’t stop his thoughts from venturing to Fenlaros.
To how lost he would be without Rhys — and Cass, too — if he really did leave them behind.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Roza is so godsdamned beautiful.
You can’t help feeling a little awestruck as you stand behind her, gently combing a brush through her night-black hair.
She stares into the mirror of her dressing table, her face a sheet of serene beauty. Through her nightgown, the swell of her bump shows proudly.
She seems pensive tonight, quieter than usual. Every few seconds, your gaze creeps to her reflection. Curiosity gets the better of you.
“Can I ask you something?” You part the strands of her hair, beginning to tie them into a braid.
Roza’s eyes lift to yours. “Of course, my love.”
It takes you a long moment to work out how, exactly, to diplomatically word what you’re thinking. You imagine it might be a touchy subject.
“…You and the High Lord….” You chew the inside of your cheek. “You’re not…not quite what I expected — together, I mean.”
You’ve never seen a mating bond up close, but you’ve read about them enough to know that they should be intense, passionate, a love that is so altering that it’s almost gut-wrenching. You expected to catch a glimpse of that with Roza and Finadar, to see a bond that you may never have the honour of experiencing yourself, for how rare it supposedly is.
What you didn’t expect was the huge distance that exists between them. Not a single person could miss it.
There’s no desperation to see each other, be in one another’s company. They sleep in their own quarters of the house and only seem to come together for public appearances. The whole thing is…bizarre.
Roza smiles wryly at you in the mirror. “You mean, you didn’t expect the High Lord and I to be as separated as we are?”
“I just figured…with a mating bond…”
“A lot of weight is placed on a mating bond, little dove.” She swivels on the stool to face you properly. “I had the same thought as you, when I was younger. Fin and I tried to love one another, but…the fact of the matter is that mating bonds aren’t always right. He and I are so different, and sometimes that can be a beautiful thing. But in our case, it certainly is not.”
Your eyes fall down to her bump. “But the babe…”
“This babe was conceived on a heat-of-the-moment, impulsive whim that shouldn’t have happened. Not that I regret it.” Her hand strokes over her bump. “But sex and love are two very different things. Fin and I do not love each other. I’m only in Velaris because he only trusts his healer to see me through this pregnancy. We are mates in the loosest definition, but we are not committed to each other. And he has no problem reminding me of that, with all the females he invites to his bed as though I’m not in the same damn house as him. He’s an arrogant, salacious lech — but he’s also the father of my children, and my High Lord, too. So I choose not to confront it, because I don’t care enough to. The babe and I will be back in Windhaven soon enough.”
It makes your heart ache, makes you feel sick, to think that Roza is on the receiving end of such treatment. She deserves better. Deserves the world. Someone who will worship her like the goddess she damn well is.
It terrifies you to think that…that you could just as easily find yourself trapped in such a dire situation.
“What worries you?” Her violet eyes are soft, warm, as she reaches up and presses a hand to your cheek.
You place the hairbrush down, leaning against the dressing table. Your hand finds hers with a sad desperation. “Is love doomed, Roza? Is it real? If a mating bond can’t hold up, what hope do I have—”
“You have all the hope, dove. And as you should. You will love, and you will be loved. You just need to have the courage to face it and all that it comes with. Fin and I are a bad match. But there’s no reason to believe you’ll see the same fate. So just…don’t give up. Be brave and love.”
Tears blur your eyes as you stare down at her. You can’t stop yourself from moving your joined hands, both yours and hers, to rest on her bump. “This babe is the luckiest child in the entire world to have you for their mother.” You whisper. “And I will be honoured, Roza, to help you in any way I can when they’re born.”
She lifts your hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of your palm. “And I will be honoured to have you by my side.” She cracks a smile. “Perhaps you can start with making me some ginger tea before bed.”
A soft, breathy laugh leaves you. “Of course.”
Her beautiful smile follows you out of the room and into the dark, empty hallways. You feel strangely at peace tonight, more so than you have for a long while. Most likely thanks to Mor’s pep talk.
But after you’re done in the kitchen, a steaming cup of ginger tea clutched in your hands, a pair of booming male voices reach you from the antechamber. It piques your interest at once.
One voice is certainly that of the High Lord, but the other sounds somewhat familiar, too — like it’s one you’ve heard before, but not enough to place who it belongs to. It’s a dangerous, gruff baritone of a voice that seems almost impossibly deep.
You should mind your business, walk away…but it seems strange for the High Lord to receive a guest so late at night. Seems…clandestine, in nature.
And so you stay light on your feet, inching towards the door and peering through to the giant, opulent antechamber.
And that’s when you see the High Lord leading Tathaln Baralas, Kaeda’s father, in the direction of his study.
Tumblr media
az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes
952 notes · View notes
sprout-fics · 9 months
Note
have you ever dabbled in Omegaverse CoD?? If you’re comfortable I’d love some spicy headcanons about Alpha 141 with their Omega reader 🤭
Oh don't even get me STARTED-
Tumblr media
Omegaverse TF141 Headcanons
(Part One: How it Begins)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Emergency heat, Illegal suppressants
Masterlist
Tumblr media
So first of all, I have a hard time imagining all four men are alphas
Primarily because I believe in the gospel that is Omega Soap
The idea of being underestimated because of his designation, of being rebellious of authority due to it and rising the ranks to prove his commanding officers wrong, of possibly even concealing himself because of the stereotypes involved is GOLD
Soap is also an attention whore, is very tactile and affectionate and outgoing, and I just feel like Omega suits him better than Alpha or Beta
We don't need to argue about Price. This man is an Alpha. No debate. Assured. Commanding. Feral. Protective. Yet gentle and indulgent when he can be.
Gaz I think can be pretty versatile, but for the sake of team dynamics and figuring out how they all blend together, Beta suits him best. He's calmer, keeps his cool under fire, and is in many ways more emotionally attuned than Soap. He's a steadying presence that's needed within the volatility of the other three, and they adore him endlessly for it
Ghost, for the sake of these headcanons, is an Alpha. However I think there's a whole realm of exploration in regards to him being a hidden omega. Details on that at a later time.
You, however, are an Omega
You, like Soap, concealed your designation in the military to avoid questions. You take a rigorous amount of suppressants, allow yourself to be perceived as a beta. Under the radar. Quiet. Reserved. Trying to not draw attention.
That changes when you're in the field with the 141 and things go very very badly.
It's an extended mission. You'd packed a month's worth of heat suppressants, can live off the lower quality ones given in supply drops along the way. You're there as an asset, a specialist, and there's a distance between you and the team that you don't mind. As long as you don't attract their attention and reveal yourself things will be fine
Except they aren't fine. In fact, they go to shit
Your camp is ambushed. You lose your kit in the scuffle, try to scramble for it under the hail of gunfire but Ghost grabs you by the scruff and snarls to leave it
You have no choice. You're hauled away, watching your kit vanish into the darkness, your heat suppressants alongside it
It takes a few days for the effects to settle in, and when they do it's hard
You haven't had a heat in years, and the withdrawal of the supplements you've been swallowing gives you a withdrawal whiplash that sends you into a delirious, feverish haze
You try and push them away, try and say you're fine, but you've been made
Soap is the first to figure it out. He knows that scent like he knows himself. He plays arbitrator alongside Gaz, tries to keep you hydrated and fed, keeps Ghost and Price well at bay. They're respectful, of course, sympathetic no doubt, but they're glad for Gaz and Soap running interference
Unfortunately it becomes clear pretty fast that things are quite dire
You've been taking illegal suppressants for far too long in an attempt to conceal your designation. They're illegal for a reason, because once your supply runs out, the heat you go through could be fatal
Price intervenes first
He's gentle, reassuring, firm in your feverish, wrecked state. You look at him with watery eyes, drink in his scent and beg him please-
He gives you what you need. Slow, firm thrusts, dragging wanting little cries from you as he ruts you with precise, rolling presses of his hips into yours
He has Gaz on standby, makes sure that his captain doesn't hurt you, doesn't lose himself. Your head is braced on his lap, your tears of pleasure wiped away by his thumbs as he hushes you "I know. I know doll. You're okay. Gonna take care of you."
It's not enough. You're consumed by sickening heat, and eventually Ghost is forced to step in too
He fills the ache in way Price is reluctant to, refuses to do as your superior officer. Ghost involves himself in the role, tells himself it's to save you, to keep you alive
But when you moan and whine under him so pretty like that, he has a hard time holding back
After, Soap holds you, shushes into your hair as you whimper and whine, as Ghost and Price debate about abandoning the mission so they can call for med-evac. It's Soap's hands on you that help quell the ache, provide a brief respite from the all consuming blaze inside you
It takes days for your heat to settle, and in those days you're lost in a buttery haze of flesh and wetness and moans as the men try and see to you, try and tell themselves it's only clinical, try to refuse the fact that they're falling for you
You wake up back at base, and in the days that follow you barely leave your room, waiting for you to be called down to someone's office and dismissed from your role, turned out of the military for hiding your designation
Instead you're summoned by Price, and in his office are the others
"No one will ever know." He promises you, low and sincere. "You have our protection as long as you want it."
You know years later that this was the moment you accepted your fate, took a single step towards them that would lead to the claims against your skin, each of them bearing your own mark in turn. Claimed.
In this moment you look up at them, again echo that singular desperate plea for them to stay.
"Please."
2K notes · View notes
wannabespiderman · 3 months
Text
Instructions unclear, sent a bowl of chocolate cereal.
Tumblr media
Bucky Barnes x reader
You get your grumpy old man a smartphone. Chaos ensues.
.
.
.
Bucky suspiciously inspected the black rectangle between his fingers. “That’s not the phone I had in mind.” Of course, he had probably been thinking of a damn rotary phone when you suggested he needed something to keep in touch with people. You knew he had this weird relationship with modern technology, he was very wary of everything electronic and if he didn’t get the hang of it immediately he would just get frustrated. On the other hand, if he was able to figure it out himself he was openly proud of it, telling you how easy it was. You always had to walk the fine line between something enhanced enough that it was actually useful these days and simple enough that he wouldn’t become grumpy and pout about it while talking your ear off at how ‘the simpler times’ were called that for a reason.
A Smartphone was very very risky. Sure, you could’ve found an old flip phone or a Nokia brick but those things just hadn’t survived the test of time and according to your very professional opinion as his partner and self-proclaimed emotional support nuisance, this man desperately  needed to stay in contact with the few people he would call his friends.
Despite your worry you put on your most supportive smile and turned the phone in his hand so he held it right side up. “Try it at least, okay? It’s cool.” You tried to assure him. He didn’t have to do a lot, you already set it up for him and downloaded all the apps you deemed necessary, helpful or fun, you even turned on the accessibility option so he could navigate his phone with one hand since the metal one wouldn’t work on a screen and would probably also leave scratches, so all that was left for him was to explore his new toy. You guided his pointer finger to the side of the phone and let him press the little button which made the screen turn on. Bucky gave you an unsure glance before turning his attention back to the phone in his hand and just kinda…stared at it until the screen turned off again. For a moment you didn’t know what was going on until you realized that with Bucky, specificity was key. You shook your head to shoo away the previous confusion his behavior caused and shuffled closer to him. “Do it again.” You encouraged him. Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly.
Oh no.
You held your breath, waiting for him to potentially hand the phone right back to you and suggesting that writing letters would be enough. After what felt like a minute he finally pressed the button again and you quietly released your breath. “Great! Now you just need to drag your thumb gently over the screen and you’re good to go.” Bucky slowly followed your instructions and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him, his eyes lighting up. Still, he tried to play it cool. “Huh. That was easy.”
Not specific enough.
You looked at your phone and tried to make out what exactly Bucky had sent you. It must’ve been a picture of his face, right? You thought you could see the brown of his hair in this blurry mess but on the other hand it could also be…maybe a bowl of chocolate cereal? Some Chili, maybe? No, there was definitely too little red for it to be Chili.
The man recently learned how to text like a normal person, more or less, but you didn’t know he also kind of figured out how to send pictures. His picture moved upwards when another blurry mess appeared in your chat. You squinted your eyes at the new picture, it was mostly white with some grey stripe in the middle. You gave up, no way you could figure out what the hell that one was.
Bucky…what is that? You typed out. The next message he sent you gave you move questions than answers.
I need a new phone. That was impossible, his smartphone was less than three days old. Sure, it could’ve cracked but you were sure he would’ve told you about that.
What’s wrong with your phone? Maybe I can help? You suggested. You didn’t have to wait for an answer too long.
Yes, please. You quietly chuckled to yourself, half amused by his struggles, half compassionate of them. You decided it would be best to talk to him face to face so you raked your fingers through your hair a few times to hide the fact that you’ve been hanging around in your bed for the last few hours and clicked the video call option on your screen. It rang and rang and…rang…until finally your screen lit up, or dulled down because all you could see was darkness with a touch of a chestnut color. You should’ve known that this would happen.
“Bucky, it’s a video call.” You informed him and watched as he pulled the phone away from his ear and instead looked at his screen, his brows furrowed like he always did when he lost a fight against technology. “Oh…” He grumbled.
“So, what’s wrong with your phone?” Bucky pressed his lips together, his eyes looking anywhere but at his phone.
“Bucky?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Bucky let out a sigh and wiped his face with his right hand but you could see the slight blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.
“Was anyone going to tell me that there are two cameras? Why the hell would anyone need two?” You saw him lean against the headrest and turn his head to the side with an annoyed expression. Your heart melted a little bit, you couldn’t help but find it endearing at how clueless he was when it came to things that were common knowledge to you.
“James, stop pouting.” There was a tone of amusement in your voice even though you tried to feign sternness. Bucky’s head shot back towards where he could see you on the screen in his hand and blinked a few times as if he was trying to comprehend what you just said. You never really called him by his first name and his reaction made you clench your jaw and hold your breath so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” You asked innocently and batted your lashes towards your camera. Bucky narrowed his eyes but couldn’t suppress the little smile that was tugging on the corners of his mouth. You grinned triumphantly, happy that you could at least lighten his mood a little bit. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You finally said and playfully scrunched your nose. “So was that it? Did you have a problem taking pictures because you tried to take them with the outer camera?” Buckys smile slightly faltered but he chuckled nonetheless.
“Yeah, I guess. Sorry to be a bother with all the…you know, modern stuff, I-“ You cut him off immediately. “Don’t you dare apologize for that, you’re still learning and I’m happy to help. Hey, I’m very proud of you for making it work with the phone.” Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly but you could see his eyes soften. “I try.”
You continued talking to him for a while about nothing in particular until you decided that you both needed some rest and hung up. It was merely twenty minutes later, you just settled down and closed your eyes when your phone vibrated. A message from Bucky. You curiously opened the message to see if he had any more problems but instead your lips curled into a big, bright smile.
He sent you a picture, this time you could fully make out what it was, a photo of a shirtless Bucky laying on his couch, his eyes crinkled as he wore a proud grin with the caption I figured it out!
__________
Tag list: @lunaroserites
607 notes · View notes
thatsbelievable · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
chaethewriter · 1 year
Text
You're dead to me [2]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
Tumblr media
In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, daddy issues, idk how one lives with zero gravity, barely proofread
Word count: 2,3k
previous chapter
next chapter
What actually took six years didn't feel like that to you at all. One moment you closed your eyes as you were put into cryosleep and after what felt like one second passed, you got woken up from your deep slumber. The claustrophobic space you are in makes something inside of you itch. Good thing you were into cryosleep, you couldn't have survived sleeping in this tube every night for six years in a row. Once your tube was pulled out of the wall, you immediately feel yourself floating. So this is what space felt like.
"Drink and eat lots, since you will feel very weak!", a loud voice echoes through the room as one by one everyone left their cryosleep. You float through the room with a smile on your face as you hold onto handles, lockers, anything to keep your balance. An excited scream could be heard from behind you, it was your friend Raja. "You are not dead I see," she jokes as she floats towards you, her arms wide open to invite you in a hug, "this is honestly insane, I can't believe that we are actually doing this!" You wrap your arms around you as you share her excitement, "I know right? We worked so hard for this, I can't believe this is happening." You met Raja on your first day being at the resistance base. She shared her passion for nature with pride and you always admired her for this. A cough is heard behind your back and Raja looks over your shoulder to see who it was, "Seb!" she squeals as she carefully gets out of your hug, floating towards their other friend to engulf him in a hug. You watch as Raja and Seb share their excitement with each other. They really didn't age at all while being in cryosleep, such an interestingly concept it was. You float towards them, holding onto Seb's shoulder to keep your balance and not pass out, because damn they were right. You feel so tired and weak. If you weren't in space right now you probably would have fallen to the floor. Your limbs felt like cooked noodles, you really needed to eat. "The trio is back at it again to cause havoc!!" Seb ruffles your head, your hair tangling in between his fingers as he did so. The three of you were the inseparable trio. While you had a group of friends you hung out with, you three always just stuck together like glue. It may have been the fact you bonded over being reckless warriors, thriving on the thrill and action, or the fact all three of you were top students, but that doesn't matter. Raja and Seb are your partners in crime til death do you all part. The two are engaged in a deep conversation, but you didn't bother to listen or chime in. You wanted to explore, and see what you worked your entire teenagehood for. Grabbing onto the handle against the walls, you made your way towards the huge window, were also most of the crew was floating around. You had to see this for yourself, you had to believe it with your own eyes. What if you were still dreaming?
"Excuse me, Pardon me!", still not used to not having any gravity, you keep bumping into other warriors. A 'watch where you're going!' was screamed your way, but you paid no mind to it as you had more important things to do. Floating past the last person that kept you from seeing outside, your eyes immediately widen at the beauty that lay in front of you. A planet, looking exactly like earth, right in front of you. It was beautiful, the true meaning behind mother nature. You bring your hand towards your cheek to pinch yourself, was this real? Were you truly experiencing this? When you pinched yourself so hard, leaving a red mark on your skin, and you didn't wake up you knew this was real. You were knocked out of your senses pretty quickly, as everyone was told to dress up, eat and get together in the common area. Where that was? No idea, but what you knew is that you were excited as hell. You basically swam through the air towards the lockers, where your supposed gear would be. The sight was probably incredibly silly, you thought, you probably looked like a swimming frog. Yet you didn't care about the stares that were given you. The only thing on your mind was to see Pandora with your own eyes— not out of books, notes you had to read, or drawings. You left without telling Seb or Raja, but you would probably find them, considering you're going to the same destination and those two definitely weren't to miss.
You float past all the lockers with nameplates, looking for your name. You were told that they were in alphabetic order. Last name. You could never escape him, could you? You proceed to float, using the lockers to pull yourself up and speed up towards the lockers that start with 'S'. Upon floating in front of the name that haunted you every day, you sigh and slam the locker open. Clothes sealed in recycled plastic, a pair of shoes, and an oxygen mask. Fortunately, it wasn't those old aquarium-like masks. When you learned about those you thought they were ugly as hell: a head in an aquarium. Those were designed like gas masks. Was that the best way to explain them? They only covered the mouth and nose part to breathe properly, it didn't cover the entire face anymore. You flash a skeptical expression towards the clothes in your arms. They were dark colors, dark colors in a hot amazon-like forest? If it were up to you, you wouldn't have chosen a little more, bare, clothes. For the sweat to at least dry up and not soak in the clothes. "Weird choice of clothes, right?", Raja appeared next to you, out of the blue, making you flinch. You quickly managed to cover it up and compose yourself, "I'm gonna end up looking like a crab while fighting a villain, kind of embarrassing." she laughs at your reply and grabs a hold of your forearm, "come on let's go change. Seb already went to change!" And with that, your friend pulls you with her. Changing your clothes was kind of awkward. The room was a big space where all women changed next to one another. It gave PE class vibes. You felt sticky and disgusting as you changed out of the clothes you wore for six years. Wearing fresh, clean clothes is always better than nothing. The material feels nice against your skin, and very cooling. As you look in the mirror, fixing every detail to look as neat as possible. You roll your sleeves up just a tad bit and tried to loosen the corset-like clothing piece around your upper body. It doesn't look exactly like a corset, but it's one of those clothing pieces that have a corset built into it. The mask is hanging against your hip, ready to be used 24/7 once you stepped foot on Pandora. The pants were a little wide thankfully, enough space to move into. "What is it with the corset though? Who wears a corset while fighting?" "Maybe it's bulletbroof or something?"
After this whole ordeal in the dressing room with some people whining about the clothes being too hot, while others were second guessing if the outfit was nice to fight in, you finally made your way towards this common area. There everyone was awkwardly sitting, what one could call sitting in space. Everyone was given a granola bar to snack on and a sealed bag with a sweet drink in it. You leaned against Seb, as you were too tired to use your strength to hold onto anything. Eating the bar and sipping from the overly-sweetened drink, you listened to the peptalk your superiors were giving you all. It was something about protecting Pandora, RDA and the forest Na'vi, but you really were too tired to listen. It was most likely the talk they did every time before you went into cryosleep. If you missed anything you could just ask Raja or Seb about it.
What almost felt like a decade to you, actually took just a few hours before you finally landed on Pandora. During the landing all, maybe twenty of you in total, were seated as you braced for impact. It wasn't too bad, it was like a plane landing. Before the doors opened, the duffel bags you took with you were placed on your laps. For your instance, the bag with the wrapped katana you got from your lieutenant was handed to you. You put your mask against your face, pressing it down and securing it as you breathe in the oxygen from the earth. Red lights flash through the area you're in with the others as the secured door lowers to the Pandorean ground, revealing the beauty of mother nature. You rise from your seat as your seat belt was already unclasped. Without waiting any longer, you rushed to the outside world in a heartbeat. Watching your surroundings, it seems like you landed on the resistance base. Unlike the RDA base, which you saw during your learning process, this one was more integrated with mother nature rather than destroying it to make space. It was so organic, so natural. A team was already waiting for your arrival, all standing in a row as you lock gazes with a Na'vi. Unlike the things you were taught about Na'vi clothing, this one was wearing human clothes. Could this be what one would call an avatar? The same situation your dad was also in? You start thinking he was your dad, but it didn't look like him at all. You knew avatars were supposed to look like their 'owners'. Even though it was supposed to be your dad's brother's avatar, they were twins. One would ask 'you don't know what your dad's avatar body looks like?', but honestly as you said many times you tried to pull away from the hauntings Jake Sully got you. The insecurities, and issues you got from his betrayal, his departure. It truly hit you like a truck. Questions would pop up like:
Were you enough?
Was there something wrong with you?
Why didn't he come back to you?
You couldn't take talking about your dad's new life. Selfish one may call it, then you were selfish in their eyes. You didn't care. Wanting your dad, is that selfish? Missing your dad, is that selfish? Angry because your dad wanted a new life without you, is that selfish? You yearned for him, yet despised talking about him. That's why you don't know what he looks like, what he is up to. You just know his history: put into the avatar body from his brother to follow military orders. From only caring about getting a paycheck to protecting the natives. He was crowned with the name Toruk Makto as you were taught. Mated to Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'Ite, daughter of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. When you first heard about this, you felt sick to your stomach. Reality hitting you even harder at age thirteen. It was already bad enough to know your dad left you, but also getting to know that he settled down while you spent your time waiting for him? You remember running out of the classroom when a superior taught you this information. This was also how you got in contact with Raja and Seb. They comforted you while everyone else thought of you as weird, weak. They were the first people, besides the superiors that came in contact with you, that came to know about your dad being Jake Sully, about the struggles you got after he left. Yet, they didn't laugh at what you thought was exaggerating. They listened carefully to your words as the tears rolled down your cheeks.
'We were attached to the hip, what went wrong?'
'Did I make him unhappy?'
'Was I too much for him?'
'Was he looking for something more rather than being a single dad?'
You spilled your insecurities to them and they never uttered a word about it to someone else. You will be forever grateful for them. You were so lost in thoughts, getting slightly emotional at all these thoughts about your dad, until a hand rested on your shoulder, "and last but not least, you must take her with you. She's our best warrior, Norm. She will need to stay on the battlefield, closest to the war." So Norm was his name. A pretty goofy one if you had to be honest. The avatar named Norm stood at least 10 feet tall as he looked down at you, literally. You just reached around his crotch area, which is kinda embarrassing because imagining running into his front. Hopefully, he likes to travel in his human body more. "Then that's settled, Oel Ngati Kameie." His hand rested against his forehead, slowly bringing it down to his chest. You flashed him a kind smile in return, ready for whatever adventure you will come across, "Oel Ngati Kameie."
But only if you knew.
.
.
"They have arrived, they will help us."
"They're sky demons! All the same!"
"I used to be one as well, yet I had a change of heart. Please accept the help they will offer us, for our people, for our family, our fortress." his hands grip hers, intertwining their fingers as he spoke to her in private, away from the children. He opened his mouth again, pressing his forehead against hers, "please, Ma Neytiri."
A/N: first of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback. I honestly didn't expect it I'm gonna be fr😭 it gave me enough motivation to write part 2, so here it is, earlier than expected. I hope you enjoyed <3
also i hope no one noticed me accidentally posting the draft cause that was silly
Taglist (I couldn't find everyone):
@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @bunnyrose01 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @coterami @lwozy @erenjaegerwifee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @m3ll0n1xx @eternallyvenus @shyskybbb @imakms @keira7664 @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @wolfiealina @guska0 @yeosxxx @dakotali @destinylb @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @alohastitch0626
4K notes · View notes
bangficsx · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
PEACE OF HEART
pair : Yoongi x reader (f.) word count : 6.7k+ genre : arrange marriage (a healthy type), they're just exploring married life...., smut, fluff
warnings : depression, anxiety, fingering, orgasms, protected intercourse, dirty thoughts, (tell me if there's anything else)
As the plane finally takes off after a delay of more than an hour, Yoongi sighs in relief. He looks at you, who sits beside him, his beautiful wife. Everytime he looks at you he can't stop appreciating how beautiful you are.
You smile at him a bit then take your book out from your bag. Yoongi watches you trying hard to ignore his presence and focus on the ink on paper.
He wants to talk to you and thinks of different ways for how to initiate a conversation with you without disturbing. At last he decides on one and executes it. Coughs loudly and grabs your attention. You keep your book down and pass him the water bottle. He thanks you and you rub his back gently.
"You alright?" You ask and he nods.
"I downloaded that movie you were talking about" he says looking at you.
"Oh.. past lives?" You ask and he nods.
"Should I put it on?" He asks.
"Can I read for like just five minutes more? I'm at a very crucial part of the story..." you ask picking your book up again, unable to resist the urge to know what happens next.
"Sure" Yoongi says trying to read what you were reading. He really did want to read the same books as you and the ones you love and get to know you better.
You and Yoongi got married three days ago.
You both had known each other for three years now. You both were introduced to each other by your parents, talked often through texts. And soon realised you both weren't seeing anyone so you gave it a shot and went out on a date.
Your sister accidentally revealed the secret to your parents and they kept bugging you for two years to get married. After much deliberation and discussion, you both realised that you did like each other, your visions and goals aligned and hence, the possibility of a successful marriage seemed quite appealing.
You both weren't very dating oriented people, didn't like to fuck around or have relationships which would have no future. Instead you both had an unconventional idea of it all, that you'd meet someone like-minded, take things from there. Even marriage wasn't something you had dreamt a lot about. Although it did feel nice to walk down the aisle, and when you look in his eyes you have a feeling you are with the right person.
And when he looks at you, you know that he's falling for you and you... you have already fallen for him for a long time now.
There's a trust that you have on him, a bond of security which you know he won't violate. You both gave the honeymoon a chance to bring you two closer.
You finally opened up your mind after many pep talks by your sister who is married with two kids and trying for another, and firmly decided that you will not try to close yourself around him and try to be secretive.
Your sister got married with a man she'd known for only a year yet she was living a peaceful, mostly happy life with him.
You'd decided if things happen you won't try to unnecessarily resist and let them just flow.
You notice how he's trying to keep his hand in a position where it can lead to you touching his. To make things a little bit easier, you keep it on the center handrest between your two seats. After a minute, his hand rests beside yours. His elbow rubs on yours. He touches your hand with his pinky finger. Slowly his hand inches farther and covers yours completely.
You struggle to fight from blushing too hard, it only gets harder with the butterflies that flutter inside your tummy.
You intertwine your fingers with his. He audibly giggles for a second in excitement but then he tries to suppress it and looks here and there.
"Yoongi" you call him. "Look at me" you ask and he slowly turns his face towards you.
"Are you happy? If anything bothers you... we can talk" he says then brings his other hand towards your face and tucks your hair behind your ear. Finds that the earrings he had gifted you adorn your earlobes.
It was awkward on your wedding night. Your sister brought you two to your room before most people left and he was quite drunk, you were too so you two just slept. Him on the floor with a blanket laid beneath him and you on the bed. You would've argued about the arrangement but were too tired and drunk to do.
"No Yoon this is nice... really nice" you let him know your thoughts, no false pretensions in front of him.
He smiles before he picks your tangled fingers up and kisses your knuckles.
"I agree" he tells you with a smile.
"Wanna put on the film now?" You question and he brings the iPad out from his backpack. You both put on your headphones and play the movie.
The film breaks you, yet heals you in a way. You feel like if you were meant to find Yoongi too, you just feel that way about him that you two were meant to be. You were bound to somehow end up with him. In your eyes he was your perfect guy, your Mr. Right. Maybe he did have his flaws but you knew he was more than just his flaws.
You both mustn't have been in crazy kind of love yet you two knew that you were if not perfect but right for each other. It was in each other that you two finally found someone who understood.
At the end of the movie you received your food package. He ate your pickle for you, you eat his salad for him and that's how you know you two are perfect for each other.
When you wake from your nap, head cozily rested on Yoongi's shoulder you find that you were about to reach your destination in an hour.
You let Yoongi sleep for a little more as he was still in deep slumber. Get the chance to catch up with your reading again.
He likes how when he opens his eyes, the face he looks at is yours. The scent he sniffs beside him is yours.
"We're going to reach soon. You wanna freshen up?" You tell him. He looks around, there was still some time left to go to the restroom and he quickly left.
He comes back in a few minutes and you both watch the landscape outside as the plane starts to go downwards and the islands come in your sight.
"I'm so excited to spend the next five days here" he says, "with you" he quickly adds.
"Me too" you tell him touching his cheek.
The driver takes you both to your hotel after you pick up your luggage. The hotel was a bit far from the sea but it had a beautiful view from the room you both were given. It was quiet and surrounded by nature and small houses as opposed to the city view with skyscrapers that you two were used to.
The apartment that you two had shifted in gave a full view of the city from it's glass pane walls. Your living room especially and the way you had arranged your sofa set gave you the chance to relax while watching the world go on.
You wanted to not think about work, or home right now and allow yourself to completely immerse in the calmness of the island you were currently on.
You watch Yoongi help the housekeeper bring in your luggage and keeps it near the bed. He closes the door behind you then sits on the bed.
"You need anything?" He asks as he wipes off the sweat from his face.
"Nah I'm good. You?" You ask him instead. If he can take care of your needs, you can take care of his too.
"I'm so fucking tired... it wasn't that long a flight... my thirties are hitting me hard I guess..." he chuckles and you do too.
"We need to get a proper meal and then you'll be good. I'm sure" you say, he giggles.
"You wanna take a nap or go out?" He asks. He pulls his jeans down without any second thought. You know that he feels comfortable around you, you're his wife and he has no shame in front of you. Still you look away even though he's not fully naked.
He wears more comfy trousers and a matching t-shirt with it.
"Let's go out. We can always sleep later" you say. You open your shared suitcase and take a dress out from it. You had it all planned out which dress to wear on which day and the whole itinerary was already decided too.
Yoongi waits for you when you change in the bathroom. You put on some lotion on your hands and some lipbalm too... just in case things happen...
You somehow get how Yoongi feels towards you when you look in his eyes. His intentions are pretty straightforward. He does have expectations out of your marriage. He wants companionship and intimacy that should be present in a marriage.
You feel grateful for the full body treatment that your sister gifted you which included a full body wax, polishing and what not. Although you know Yoongi would love you no matter what.
It's not that you don't have the same expectations out of him. You aren't as blunt as him in your approach towards him, you get shy and hesitate a bit.
You love him.
He's your brightest star on a new moon night. He's your sunshine that appears after dark, gloomy, cloudy days which don't seem to go away.
You never knew if you were ever going to find love. If there was someone who would like you, understand you and somebody in whom you would find the qualities you looked for in a man. Yoongi was that guy for you.
He doesn't even knows how he's helping you heal your heart. Seven years ago you were in a situationship which lasted too long and left you so broken you didn't have it in yourself to look for love again.
And then your path crossed with Yoongi's. And now you both walked hand in hand on the same path together.
You walk closely with Yoongi when a guy working with the hotel tells you both to check the pool out. They had just completed cleaning it and with the current weather it would be a fun experience to hang out there.
He takes you towards the pool, hand in hand you like being like this him. With every passing second you just feel yourself getting closer to him.
But when you two reach there you look at yourself and then look around. Most people present were in swimsuits and you two were covered with t-shirts and jeans.
"It's too tempting... everyone seems to be having so much fun" he says with a hand on his waist as he looks around at couples and friends playing around in the water. Another excuse to just get closer to you.
"There are changing rooms over there. Should I just grab a pair of clothes from the room?" You ask him. Have always liked water too much to be able to resist.
"You wait here I'll go..." he quickly turns around.
"Hey no... you said you were tired. Just tell me what you need" you insist and he gives in.
"Blue shorts. Towel." He tells you and you smile at him before leaving with the key card.
Rummaging through the luggage you find his towel but not the shorts. You look under the shirts but the only thing you find is two boxes of condoms and a bottle of lubricant. It makes you gasp and smirk at the same time. He came prepared.
The topic of contraception had once come up between the two of you not about what you would personally use but more so as how it's usually considered a woman's duty than a mutual concern. And how most forms of hormonal birth control have side effects and how you once developed a nasty rash after taking the pill to delay your period for your sister's wedding.
The topic of kids had been discussed well in advance. You both wanted kids but maybe after some time, right now you had to focus on more important things.
You just keep the things where they were placed before and try to find the shorts that you found in between the shirts. You take a bralette and a pair of shorts for yourself. Wonder if Yoongi will like it, you're kinda sure that most of the men and their minds work the same.
You find Yoongi sitting on a bench waiting for you to come. He walks upto you when he sees you.
You both change when you step out his gaze does change but you see how he's trying to be respectful.
He goes inside the pool first then holds your hand and helps you come in although you insist you're fine.
"You know I learnt how to swim when I was like 4 so you needn't worry about me" you assure him and he smiles.
You show him that you do remember what you learnt by swimming around. He joins you and you both go to another corner and come back.
You talk about the weather and the food and some silly memories from your swimming lessons and have a good laugh.
You look around trying to capture everything with your eyes, remember it all. Your eyes see something disgusting and you immediately turn towards him and hold his arm.
"Hey... what happened" he gets flustered at your sudden change of expression.
"That man in the red boxers... he just touched himself looking at me, like he was smiling at me in such a creepy way... god" you sigh trying to get the sight out of your head.
"I'm gonna fucking break all of his teeth" Yoongi tries to walk upto the man and confront him but you stop him.
"We're in a foreign country I don't want you to get in trouble because of me... our honeymoon's just started..." you hold him while he fumes with anger. 
"I don't care.." he says.
"Yoongi... kiss me" you say.
"What?" He's taken aback by your request.
"Nobody will dare look at me then" before you complete speaking his lips are on yours.
Although it happened all of a sudden yet you feel the urge to deepen it. His hold on you grows tighter. You keep a hand on his cheek.
He smiles in between the kiss, you do too. It wasn't exactly your first kiss, you had kissed him once a couple years ago after a really romantic date when he dropped you off near your house.
This felt different. Now you actually have feelings for him, stronger than before. And the way he's kissing you, it tells you he has too.
"We can't get out of the pool without doing this..." you get away from him and splash water at him.
He pretends to be angry which makes you back off but he splashes water at you too, giggling. You try to get away but he's quick to catch you.
Your back hits his chest when he holds you from behind. His bare chest.
"You can't run away anymore" he whispers in your ear. Your stomach growls audibly.
"Let's get out and grab something to eat" you know you can't deny now that he knows you're hungry.
When you two eat, he holds your hand when you keep it on the table. Your legs touch under the table. You crave to touch him more but you are very aware of where you are sitting.
"Yoongi..." you take his name in a gentle tone.
"Hmm?" He hums in response while chewing.
"Do you think it's possible to love someone without knowing everything about them?" You ask, presenting your dilemma to him.
"Maybe. And we can't really know anyone like 100%. There's always some parts unknown to us. We can only know what they tell us and trust them that they're telling us the truth. I don't think it's necessary..." he tells you. You see the glint of hope in his eyes wondering if it's him that you love.
He takes your doubts away with his words. You were skeptical if what you thought was right. Maybe you didn't know everything about him but maybe you knew just enough to be able to love him. You wonder if he loves you too.
When he's not looking at his food mostly his eyes stay focused on you. He's absolutely mesmerised with you.
It was about to be time for the sun to set. You decide to go to the beach and witness it together, the meeting of the sun and the sea over the horizon.
It makes you giddy how he refuses to walk without your hand in his. A simple act yet it makes you feel so close to him.
You walk barefeet with him along the shore. The sea washes your feet again and again. Yoongi keeps his arm draped over your shoulders while you keep yours on his back. People look at you and smile. Old people reminisce the days of their lost youth. Young people envy how you two are so undeniably, deeply in love. People want to be in the place you're in.
As the sun comes down to meet the sea, so do Yoongi's lips to meet yours. You smile as he kisses you. You were at a fairly empty and quiet spot, just the two of you.
He makes you sit down and wraps his arm around your shoulder, you rest your head on his chest as you two watch the most beautiful sunset, more beautiful with your life partner by your side.
You pick his hand, the one resting on his knee. You caress his knuckles. Even his hands are a work of art. And you get to hold them.
You look up at him as he watches the sunset then looks at you and grins. You press your lips near his and whisper "I love you Yoongi"
His eyes sparkle when you tell him those words. The words you'd been contemplating about for so long and finally had the confidence and courage to tell him.
He touches his lips on your forehead and says the same thing. "I love you too baby" he tells you. You feel goosebumps run in your body, your heart rate speeds up, you have the widest smile on your lips. It feels surreal to you yet feels like you've known it for so long.
His hand rests really close to your ass as you two walk back to your room and you oddly find it familiar. It helps that you have trust in him, that's just the way you are, you don't get to a physical level with anyone you can't trust with your life. He is the one. The one you love, you trust, you respect. Your husband.
When you reach the room, you can sense the impatience in him as much as it exists in you. He quickly puts in the card and you are quicker to get inside and lock the door behind you.
You remove your sandals and he follows you removing his shoes. He walks towards the mini fridge under the television. He takes a bottle of whiskey out.
"Want this?" He shoots the question towards you.
"Yep" you purse your lips.
You know he's just hesitant to make the first move. He's just worried if you would think he's desperate or impatient. He wants you to be ready as you both weren't physically intimate in anyway before.
Although you know it doesn't has to necessarily be that way, people have sex with people they might've met not even two hours ago. It just doesn't seems to work that way for you. But now that you know him, you have feelings for him a part of you wants it. To be intimate with him, close with him, have a connection with him which you've never had with anyone else nor do you want to have with anybody other than him.
In this moment, its just him that occupies your mind. You don't worry about your problems, your endless work, your upcoming exam for a promotion at work.
Most of the times you're overwhelmed with unnecessary worries and what ifs. What if your marriage doesn't works out, what if your husband isn't happy with you, what if you lose your job suddenly, what if you become prey of some financial scam, what if your husband loses his job, what if you can't have a kid, what if even if you have one you can't be a good mother or be unable to provide them the best education and opportunities. And what not. The list is endless.
But with Yoongi by your side, you feel a little bit of that pressure being lifted off from your shoulders. You know together you'll both figure it all out somehow.
You sit on the edge of the bed where Yoongi brings you the glass of alcohol and sits beside you. You sit closer to him and run your hands through his hair.
He kisses you and slowly slides his tongue in, you both taste like whiskey. You like the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he smells, his musty cologne, his shiny hair.
You both can't resist things from heating up. His hand slides down your back and rests on your hips before he pushes you closer towards himself. Your thumb runs on his neck. You feel how his breaths get heavy, so do yours. You're panting as you're getting aroused.
Eventually you straddle him. He keeps pulling you closer no matter how much you are. But then he pulls away...
"Hey..." you look at him with a grave look. "If you don't want me to do any thing you can tell me. Don't feel like you're obligated to me because I'm your husband. I know how your mind works sometimes..." he caresses your hair while he speaks.
"Yoongi I told you what I feel... my love is not like platonic. This is kinda natural don't you think..."
"I just want to be your safe place. I want to be where you find peace. You give me that and I wanna give you that too. Look there were many things that led me to my decision of marrying you. When I'm with you... I've never felt this way before... I will love you till the end of this life but I want you to love yourself equally... growing up i saw my mother and aunts losing themselves in devotion to their husband and families. I don't want that for you... it's natural to have some expectations. But I'll never expect you to put me before yourself." You focus on him, your whole attention placed on him. You respect the way he gives importance to communication.
"Give yourself an hour each day. I'll give myself time too. Even if we have just an hour, let's just divide it and give half to ourselves and half to each other." You nod smiling at him.
"Thank you for choosing me Yoongi. I know that you had even better prospects. I wasn't your parent's first choice for you. But I'm glad that I found you and that I chose you..." you put kisses on his face. "I love you" You tell him before kissing him.
You pull apart for a few seconds just to say, "And I want it... like all of it"
"What do you mean?" He asks.
"You know what I mean" you say.
"Okay" he gives your ass a little squeeze pulling you towards himself to let you know how fucking hard he is. You're surprised too by how aroused you'd made him without even doing anything.
"Just a little thing I should let you know.. umm" you hesitate a bit. He looks at you concerned.
"This is my first time" you bite your lower lip. You have no idea what he must think, virginity at your age wasn't exactly usual.
"Okay" he says. "I'll keep that in mind. We can take it slow and easy. Don't worry" you smile at him before you cover his face with kisses. He giggles.
He pulls the strap down from your shoulders as he plants kisses on your neck. You know with the way he's sucking, he's gonna leave marks. You don't mind it. The matching rings on your fingers are enough to indicate who has done that to you.
You feel his hard on pressing against your thigh and grind on it a little as he goes down kissing your cleavage.
You'd been skeptical about how you would feel in this moment but now you know it isn't something you'd trade with anything else. You love the feeling, the way pleasure builds up inside you, the way wetness pools between your thighs.
You can't control and moan when he cups your breast. You try to find something to hold onto. You want to have direct contact with his skin too.
Hence, you unbutton his shirt. He removes it and gives you access to his bare chest. He tugs on your dress wishing for it to not be there. You part from him to remove it, get rid of your bra too.
He can't control himself when he looks at your bare breasts. He gets you to lie on the bed and cups your breast before wrapping his mouth around it. You moan loudly as his tongue flicks your nipple. His thumb circles on the other.
Your clit throbs igniting an urgent desire in you to touch yourself or be touched there.
Yoongi takes his time with your tits. He palms himself for a second before he grabs both your breasts and rubs your nipples with the thumbs. His mouth alternates in between them both. Has you arching your back and moaning so loud and you still have your underwear on.
It's not long before he pulls his jeans down and comes to the bed just in his boxers which leave you in surprise over how big he is. You just want to pull them down and suck him off. It looks fucking painful for him yet he manages.
"You wanna remove what's left together?" He asks, trying to find every possible way he can keep things easy for you. You nod.
He stands up from his place but his eyes stay on your body. You rub yourself a little from above your panties.
"I used to think we would wait for a couple months before doing this... I was so wrong I can't control how much I want you Yoon... I just can't" you say as you pull your panties down exposing your wet, messy pussy to him. You throw them on the floor, he does the same with his boxers.
You see his cock, hard and absolutely ready to fuck you, be buried inside you. You wonder how it would feel to touch it, have it in your mouth, in your pussy maybe even your ass someday... how it would look spilling, shooting sperm all over you. How gorgeous Yoongi might look as he comes, writhes with pleasure lying underneath you.
He gets the same dirty thoughts about your pussy. Wonders about the scent of it, the taste of it, how it would feel around his cock, how pretty it would look filled with his cock, his sperm, as it orgasms, if it can squirt. How tight, and wet and warm it must be. How quickly he might nut once he's inside it. He feels like he's going to come just by looking at it.
You touch your clit to tease him. He feels a rush of blood in his body as he watches you, your finger slowly stroking your clitoris.
Your moans echo in his ears. What he wouldn't give up to keep hearing them.
He joins you on the bed above you. His mouth meet yours again and this time he's much more passionate. His hand reaches between your thighs.
"Is this okay?" He asks and you hum in response.
He keeps rubbing your clit the way you were doing it.
"Yoongi... faster" you request and he obeys instantly.
"You know.. it might be better if I finger you first..." he hates to interrupt how much pleasure you were in. Still he asks first.
"Do it" you say, already close to an orgasm.
He covers his fingers in your juices before the tips of his fingers reach your entrance. He taps around before he slowly begins to insert his finger inside your cunt.
"And don't you dare to try faking it in front of me... okay?" He says faking an intimating voice.
He tries to find your g-spot after he has given you a few pumps. His fingers stroke against walls but he fails to find the exact spot again and again.
"Help me" he says.
"How?" You ask just to tease him.
"Where does it feels good?" He presses on a spot which makes you feel like you wanna pee and that's how you know he found it. You mostly just do clitoral when you're masturbating so it's mysterious to you too.
"Do you masturbate?" He asks out of nowhere.
"Why do you ask?" You enquire before answering.
"It helps one know their bodies better and what they like" he says.
"I did but mostly just external..." you tell him.
"There?" He asks when you moan and you nod as he presses the rough patch.
You grow wetter and wetter and it gets easier for him to finger you. You see his cock all engorged and leaking precum. So you move your hand down and wrap your hand around his shaft. Circle your thumb on the tip. He pants harder as you continue. His finger moves faster. But you wanna be coming around his cock.
"Yoongi... condom please" you say leaving hold of him and he pulls his fingers out too.
He stands up and walks to the suitcase. You watch his bare, sculpted back as he walks naked around the room, not ignoring his hard cock slapping against his stomach. He takes one box out and brings it to you. Also the bottle of lube.
"I've heard it helps women if they're on top the first time" he says waiting for your response before taking his position.
"Let's try then" you say before you sit up. He lies down beside you and you straddle him with a smirk.
You open the box of condoms and take one out while he keeps massaging your breasts.  You rip the wrapper and hand it to him. You want to try putting it on him but you don't know if you would do it the correct way. And you need it to be used properly as that's your only option of protection right now.
You gently caress his balls while he rolls the condom on his dick. You pick up the lubricant and pour some on your palm.
"Uhh... Yoongi" you ask if you can do it. And he gives you an expression of assurance.
You're both grown ups, married, who cares how many times you fuck and in what ways and at what time. You have no reason to delay if you are both ready.
You spread the liquid all over his length, massaging him. Inside you are a bit worried how long and thick he is and if it'll hurt you too much. But you know that it's Yoongi and he would never mind if you fail to do it the first few times... you could always suck him off and finish in other ways.
"Okay then..." you take a deep breath as you shift to sit above him. You rub your pussy on his dick for a bit but then notice him twitching and the look on his face tells you he's having a hard time controlling himself.
He keeps his hands on your waist and stares at your cunt glisten with juices. He cups you and rubs you before you hold him to slide on him. He holds himself while you watch his cock slowly get inside you.
Both your gazes are stuck at one place. Your bodies connecting. You shift a little and take more of him inside you. He keeps his hands on your breasts, a thumb pressed on your clit to have you distracted from any pain.
You wince as you feel your pussy stretching like you've never been stretched before. His cock throbs inside you, trapped within your tight walls. He's using everything in him to not just fuck you hard. No matter how much he wants to, he would never do that while you're certainly in pain.
"Aah fuck..." you cry out as you take him in completely. It feels good yet it hurts. He's big. He's thick.
"Oh god Yoongi..." you try to move but it hurts to do.
"We can stop." he says.
"Yoongi it'll hurt again... I wanna be done with the pain right now... Once I come I dint think it'd really matter" you tell him. You're not backing off just because of the pain. You know it's just the matter of a first couple times and then you'll both have fun.
You lean down to kiss him.
"Make yourself cum right here" he whispers in a sexy tone.
You sit up and circle your finger on your clit. Yoongi spreads your pussy lips for you. The direct touch on your clit makes you flinch but it also brings an intense sensation to you. You increase the pace how your finger moves.
Yoongi circles your nipples before his thumbs come back to where they were. Your orgasm builds inside you, threatening to take control of your body. And you lose it... you come hard.. your whole body trembles, you start to bounce on his cock riding your high. The way your walls clench around him almost make him come. It was already hard for him regardless.
He moans as your movements don't cease. But the overstimulation doesn't helps.
"Let's switch positions" you tell Yoongi and he's quick in the way he rolls you over and takes his position above you. His cock slides you as you two move, there's a funny sound but you two don't even care.
He pumps himself a couple times before his tip meets your hole again. He pushes himself inside your tight cunt. He slips in easily with how you had loosened after the orgasm and all the lube and wetness help him too.
Luckily, the pain had been replaced with unbearable pleasure. Pleasure of such intensity that makes you want to scream. You feel thankful that it went away so quickly.
His fingers tangle with yours. You hold him tightly before he pulls them away. He kisses your neck, your breasts, your chest.
Yoongi builds a rhythm of how his cock again and again disappears into your pussy. He wanted to kiss it, lick it so badly. Make it come all over his tongue. The thoughts go away as all his attention moves towards his cock which twitches, his balls tighten. His tip keeps rubbing on your g-spot but it's irregular. You know he can't feel it with the condom on.
Another curiosity builds up inside you about how he would feel without a condom. You start to think about when your period is due and figure out the date when you could go raw.
You stroke your clit trying to chase the second orgasm that's building up inside you. You know he doesn't minds, even enjoyed watching you touch yourself.
His pace increases and so does yours. You squeeze his ass as he moans and gasps with how close he is. "Cumming... cumming!" He declares as his thrusts stop and his body shakes. You know he is ejaculating as you feel his cock pulsing, throbbing. You wonder how it would feel to have him come inside you, fill you up.
His orgasm is intense indicated with the way he struggles to move afterwards and remove the condom which he kinda hates at this moment. All he wants to do is hug you, hold you.
As soon as he's done, he quickly lies beside you. You run a hand through his hair, he kisses your neck, your shoulder. His hand reaches between your thighs, even in the daze of his own high he hasn't forgotten that you didn't finish. You spread your legs for him. Spread your labia like he'd done for you.
He lazily rubs you, then puts two of his fingers inside, with how aroused you were your g-spot was easier to find and after a few minutes you orgasm again. Throwing your head back, arching your back, squeezing your breast, holding his hand, moaning his name. You come because of him.
Tell him how much you love him and he tells you he loves you more.
Feeling absolutely fucked out, you two don't even look at the clock and close your eyes, just lying in each other's embrace. You keep a hand over his abdomen.
The only person you ever held like this in bed was your mother until you were five and slept in your own bed.
You feel an unmatched safety in his embrace. You know from now onwards you won't be alone when life hits you hard. On days you feel more depressed, which used to be so hard to get through all alone. He's gonna hold you and you're gonna hold him. And you can tell him anything and he can too.
Adjusting into your new life was made easy with Yoongi's love. He never tried to get away from doing half of the chores.
Soon you both figured out a routine that suited you. One for the weekdays when you both worked. One for the weekends when you both stayed home.
You got to know each other's friends. Got to know each other better than ever.
He knew exactly how to cheer you up when you felt depressed. And you knew all the ways to help him cope with stress.
You two were imperfect in your own ways but together you were better.
You grew to love the life you had each day.
Mornings spent listening to the news and drinking coffee with him, running late than showering together.
You had days of the week divided with tasks, who would cook breakfast, pack lunch, do laundry, cook dinner, do dishes, clean.
You spent weekends messing around with him in the kitchen and cooking and cleaning. And when you two ended up in bed you always somehow lost track of time.
If the days were spent quiet and peacefully, then you and your husband would go wild in the night, confined in your room alone but not alone.
And where three months went away you just don't understand. Scrolling on your phone at pictures of you two from the last quarter, your smile doesn't seems to fade.
You stand in front of your sleeping husband. He doesn't knows how his peace is about to be disrupted. You should've known something would come your way with how smooth sailing your life had been for a while. You had deluded yourself into thinking maybe your fate had changed for better.
How foolish of you to think your life could ever go smoothly.
You sit down beside him and run your fingers through his hair. He complains wishing to not wake early on a weekend.
"Yoongi" you call him and he immediately knows from your tone that it's urgent.
"Come here" he tries to pull you above him thinking it must be something silly you're worried about again. And you know how he loves morning sex and waits for the weekends to be able to do that peacefully.
You hold his hand and keep sitting up. He tucks your hair behind your ear.
"I don't know how you're gonna feel about this..." you take a deep breath and hold his hand, he holds it tighter.
You open your closed fist and he averts his gaze away from your face.
"I'm pregnant Yoongi"
550 notes · View notes
apocalypseornaw · 5 days
Text
Fantasies
Tumblr media
Dean Winchester x Reader
You start having dreams about the eldest Winchester which puts a strain on your friendship
You groaned lightly from the tightness in your side, it was decorated vibrant shades of purple from the last hunt. All of you were currently sticking to the bunker and licking your physical or mental wounds until the next case called.
You walked out of your room trying to decide if you wanted to go in search of coffee or just wander through the stacks in the library. Sleep wouldn't find you and your mind wouldn't allow you to simply lay in bed.
You ended up deciding on a bottle of water before going in search of a book to busy your mind until maybe exhaustion would win out. You walked quietly into the library and was surprised to find you weren't the only occupant of the bunker still up.
Dean sat at the table, an open lore book in front of him but you could tell from the look in his eyes his mind was on anything but the book. "Dean?" You called and he startled slightly which honestly shocked you. No one snuck up on Dean.
He smiled when his eyes landed on you "What are you doing up sweetheart? You got pretty banged up" you rolled your eyes despite the smile slipping onto your face. Of course he was worried about your side when Sam had to put his left shoulder back into place. "I'm fine Dean. Are you ok?"
He nodded then stopped "No, I'm not. Can we talk?" You laughed lightly "We're talking now Winchester" he narrowed his eyes at you so you grinned "Sorry" then walked over to sit next to him but instead he grabbed your hand at the last moment and directed you to the table in front of him.
It wasn't unusual for any of you to end up sitting on the table during a rundown of a hunt but that was when it was all three of you and you were fully dressed. Now you were wearing the long tshirt you'd worn to bed and a pair of boys boyshorts that barely covered everything. You sat down in front of Dean and pressed your legs together, pulling the shirt down "What's wrong Dean?"
He leaned forward, tentatively putting one hand on your bare leg "You" "Me?" You asked and he nodded "Jody may have let somethings slip to me" you felt your face warm, why would she do that? You'd told her in confidence. "I know you don't feel the same about me Dean" you barely whispered, keeping your eyes down on your lap.
He leaned forward to catch your face in one of his hands, forcing your eyes to meet his "How do you know I don't? How do you know if you're not the only thing ever on my mind? How I hate you wearing this damn outfit to bed because if I ever catch Sam looking I'm gonna knock his head off. How I'd give anything to bend you over this table and show you just how much I feel the same about you"
By that time he'd moved from his chair to be standing between your legs, one hand holding your face while the other was still on your leg. You could feel your heart in your throat when you saw the hunger in those gorgeous green eyes that was watching your every move. "Show me" you whispered and a grin worked its way onto his face. He caught your lips in a bruising kiss as you felt his hand slid up your leg to your inner thigh. When his fingers brushed over your clothed core you moaned lightly and he smirked against your lips "Damn that's a beautiful sound"
He slipped one finger under the shorts and groaned when he realized you weren't wearing any panties. He plunged two fingers into you and your hips bucked up towards him. His eyes went from your face down to watch as he fucked you with his fingers "So damn pretty,coming apart on my fingers. Can't wait to feel that little pussy stretched around me"
He caught your lips again, slowly exploring your mouth with his own as he worked you closer to that edge. The moment his fingers grazed that spot inside of you, you clenched hard around his fingers and he moaned "Fuck, baby I'm trying to take this slow but you're making it hard"
You pulled back from the kiss just long enough to slip your shirt over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up "Take it slow later Dean but for now please just fuck me like you want me" He closed his eyes just for a second but you could see his jaw clench tightly. When he opened his eyes they were a darker shade of green and fuck his voice sounded deeper than usual when he said "Yes ma'am"
"WAKE UP SLEEPING BEAUTY. WE GOT A CASE" Dean's voice booming through your bedroom door jolted you awake. Your heart was pounding wildly and you were fairly certain your panties were soaked. Fuck. These dreams about Dean had started months ago, they had been sporadic at best but now it was beginning to be a reoccurring thing. How the hell could you keep living in close quarters, hunting side by side when the one thing you wanted from him you knew you couldn't have?
Reality
365 notes · View notes