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#also that lighting was fighting me every step of the way but it turned out fine in the end
astrids2th · 2 days
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Kiss me, kill me, touch me.
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Ilsa Faust x Fem!spy!reader
summary: In the clandestine world of espionage, Ilsa and Y/N find themselves entangled in a dangerous game of love and betrayal. Bound by duty yet drawn to each other, the two spies must navigate a treacherous landscape where trust is scarce, and secrets are deadly. Will their love conquer all, or will loyalty tear the lovers apart?
Warnings: Smut, !minors DNI!, oral, fingering, lots of kissing, violence, guns, also !men DNI!, fluff, a bit of angst and a tiny bit of homophobia.
A/N: Btw sorry for my bad English, it isn't my first language. Enjoy <33.
Love is not a simple thing. That is a fact that is very famously and universally agreed upon. It is a dangerous, complicated, and tender yet cruel thing. Like a flower. A deadly flower, which can look oh so beautiful, sitting in your garden, and yet it spurs poison if you were to touch its tender leaves.
Ilsa was your flower and your poison. A drug which you couldn’t get enough of. And you were hers alike. Poisonous, yes, that was probably the most fitting word to describe the love which you shared. A relationship, that if it were to be revealed and publicized, its beautiful toxins would burn down not only your own livelihoods and occupations as spies, but also that of the people closest to the both of you, though you didn’t have many of such people. This was a deadly field to work one, one filled with mines hidden beneath every step of the way.
Oh, but how good it would feel to burn. To let the world see you both and the love you shared.
on the rare occasion that you got to go to witness the wedding of one of those few close friends mentioned earlier, and you got to see them basking in the joy of a love which was not looked down upon by society, and by everyone for that matter, you caught yourself falling down a bitter hole of jealousy.
“Till death do us part,” you would hear them promise, and you would roll your eyes covertly. No. Ilsa, Ilsa you would love even through death and hell. Through the burning fires and the glares of society. She would be yours, and you hers. Sometimes it even seemed as though you would love each other to death. You would regularly be sent to each other’s doorsteps with a gun in hand provided by your superiors and your agencies, of whom you were both the best which said agencies could offer. The best spies on each of your sides.
If you were to do the counting, then this would be approximately the fifth time this year that Ilsa Faust had attempted to kill you. And it was only still May. So still counting.
You gently tip-toed through your apartment, warm morning sun glowing through your dusty glass windows, windows that should have probably been changed out years ago, but this wasn’t exactly an expensive apartment either, so you had no right to complain. And in any case, the blurriness of the light which did manage to fight its way through the old glass had its charm, you supposed. It was old and antique in a way that it became a style of its own, and as the gentle smell of chamomile began wafting through the air, signalling the readiness of your tea, it all made sense together.
Vapour rose from your tea stained and decorated cup, flowers coating the, at some point, white porcelain cup. Though after several turns in the dishwasher alongside all your other cutlery and tableware, it had an almost yellowish tint to it. But it made the cup no less charming.
And picking up your cup, you warmed your hands on it appreciatively, and went to take a set on your couch.
Or at least that was what you would have done. But your movements were halted when a whipping like sound lashed across the room, accompanied by the delayed bang of a window being crashed, glass crackling and exploding across the room. Sharp shards of glass were hurtled over your carpeted floors, embedding themselves into the soft wool of the rug and threatening to pierce your bare feet if you were to take another step. You almost fell back as the culprit of this chaos darted past your face, before lodging itself into your flowery wallpaper. A bullet. You could see it even from where you had stumbled back to, back pressed against the wall, and your cup still in the palm of your hand.
It was small, metal. British design, clearly, you could deduct that from the rim on the back of the bullet. Which was the only part of the bullet you could actually see because the rest of it had practically planted itself in your thick walls, like a little tree stump just sticking it. Judging by the information that you had collected, it was quite easy for you to deduct just who this assassin was who had so clumsily tried to execute you in the early hours of such an otherwise peaceful morning. And you carefully went to tuck on your slippers, as to not ruin the soles of your feet with any of the glass shards which stuck out of the carpet like thorny shrubbery in some forest.
And you walked to your shattered window, unclasped the hinges, and then pushed it open with a small clack.
“You missed,” your voice called out mockingly to the person laying just a street away, on the rooftop of the opposing building, just a story lower than your own apartment complex. The woman, laying flat down on her stomach with a riffle positioned in front of her, gave a small, easily missed smile, and lifted her head up before slipping off the eyepatch which covered her unused eye. The one she didn’t use for aiming. “I missed on purpose,” Ilsa replied in a voice meant to sound serious, although it had an amused undertone to it that anyone of you would have easily missed.
“Of course you did. All a part of the big master plan, huh?” You teased her candidly and used the palm of your hand to nonchalantly brush off any pieces of glass which were still littering your windowsill from her attack earlier. You knew she missed on purpose; she always did. Even if she was well aware of the consequences that her failure to kill you would give her back at the British headquarters, she would never genuinely aim to kill you. Even if her brain wanted and tried to. Just a little slip of the hand, that was all. A little, entirely purposeful slip of the hand. You leaned forward on the windowsill, arms resting on the wood. “Are you going to give up or try again? Second times the charm, or third, or whatever.” You shrugged and lifted your still unscathed cup to your lips, to sip your tea.
“Depends,” Ilsa replied, dropping her eyepatch to hang loosely around her neck instead on the black string which had earlier been clasped around her hair. “Are you going to stop being a commie asshole?” She then continued, smirking down at you from her perched position on her rooftop, just a foot or so above you. You could see her getting comfortable up there, gloating down at her as always with a playful smile. Her blue eyes shimmered, making you shake your head with a scoff. “I work for a communist organisation, that doesn’t necessarily make me a communist myself. Not entirely,” you replied and put down your tea. Yeah, the KGB didn’t exactly have the best of reputations amongst any other organisations in, well any part of the world. But you didn’t exactly have many options either. You turned around and gestured to your apartment, “and I mean, look at the nice apartment they gave me. If you’d just quit shooting holes in my wallpaper. I’m too lazy to replace it.”
The British agent didn’t reply and instead lifted her riffle and shot off another bullet, letting it swish just past your head and into the wallpaper behind you, nicely placed just besides the other bullet. An exaggerated sigh left your lips as you turned to examine her artwork on your wall. Glass shards and ruined wallpaper. And you then looked back at her. “Meh, I suppose I’ll have to go buy a cheap picture to cover it up or something,” you muttered and sipped your tea once again.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to shoot that up as well,” Ilsa replied casually. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Watch me.” She maintained a steady eye contact with you as she spoke. Her blue eyes would surely mesmerise millions if she wished to do so, and her lips…
“You’re just avoiding having to shoot up me now, aren’t you?” You teased her and looked back at her with mirrored intensity, trying to match her controlled expression. But the light did shine through the cracks, in both your faces. It was almost impossible to hide. Both of you were walking, talking killing machines who had vowed to serve your countries no matter the cost, you had both vowed nothing else but loyalty. Like nuns when they vowed to love nothing but god, well your gods were your agencies. And they were such cruel gods indeed.
“I wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.” She replied, her tone a bit softer, so faint in fact that you wouldn’t have even been able to hear it hadn’t it been for the fresh winds which carried her sensuous voice down to you on its breeze. “Why don’t you come down and kiss it instead then?” was your candid reply, and there was no hesitation behind it. The words fell from your lips as easy as a coffee order, except you were calling for a war and not a medium double espresso shot. Though that was almost what she was, when it was just her, and not duty as well. A shot of espresso, bold and strong, always there to wake you up when you fell out of line.
The woman smiled and shook her head with a chuckle at your bold statement. But the smile on her face was a genuine one. Her gear was quickly packed away and discarded in an almost dismissive manner, she had never intended to use it properly anyway. It was never her intention to kill you. It never was and it never would be.
Slowly, she crawled down the side of the rigid building. It was soviet built. So, there was practically no space in between the two opposing buildings regardless, so Ilsa could easily make the small jump from one building to the other, with her nimble and athletic build easing the troubles of making the move. And as she leapt off the slim ledge, you were there to catch her. Always. With your arm outstretched from your window in an offer for her to grab onto, which she did. The British agent’s strong hands gripped your own, holding herself in a safe spot from falling while you hoisted her up and in through the window with no difficulty. She pushed herself through the last way and stumbled in besides you, your arms there to keep her from falling onto the still glass infested carpet which she herself had been the cause of. Her gaze met yours, her lips painted with a cheeky grin. “Now, you’re not going to try and choke me or anything, are you?” She asked sarcastically and leaned into your hold a bit, still smiling. “Not unless that’s the kind of stuff you’re into. Who am I to judge,” You reply with a teasing shrug, and she gently shoves you with a scoff, earning a laugh from you.
You’re then hastily pushed against a wall, all air leaving your lungs as she pins you against it. You make no move to stop her or put up a fight. You let it happen. Her hand reaches up to caress your soft cheek, an almost relieved sigh escaping her as she feels your skin beneath her cold fingertips. The chilliness of her long-awaited touch easily earns a shiver from you, your own hands coming up to gently feel up her neck.  “I missed you…” You whisper breathily while she  slowly edges her face closer to yours, lips parting as you breaths meets, warm sighs hitting each other’s faces. “Of course you did, darling…” She whispers back, and before you even manage to reply, her lips are crashed onto yours in a bruising kiss, lips locking. It instantly draws a surprised moan from you, tense body easing into it and your eyes closing.
She does the same, and you quickly feel her tongue demanding entrance, teeth nipping at your lips in an attempt to get you to open up, and you do so willingly, parting you lips and letting her tongue slip through. You both deepen the kiss, tongues clashing together, heartbeats in your ears and your faces feeling hot. You suck on her tongue, making her gasp and grip your cheek tighter, free arm snaking its way around your waist to pull you closer. Your own hands go to wrap around her shoulders and hold onto her, one hand pushing into the roots of her tied up hair. In between kisses, you both have to free your lips from each other as to not be suffocated in the passionate kisses, and even in those moments you remain interlocked, arms around each other and foreheads pressed together while you pant for air.
Clumsy hands fumble around each other’s bodies as you both crave more, hers pulling and tugging at your loose T-shirt, the same shirt you had woken up in and slept in, while your first instinct is to pull out her hair tie and release her long, cool brown hair, a moan escaping from you as you succeed and her hair falls, cascading down her back, allowing you to burrow your fingers in it. She whines lightly, as she is too shaky to successfully pull off your shirt. This earns a smile from you, and she instead pushes down your shorts, one hand slipping to your inner thigh. You gasp and then retract a hand to instead place it on her shoulder, before gently beginning to nudge her backwards. Without protest, she inelegantly stumbles backwards in answer to your advances, and she eventually feels the couch behind her. “Lay down.” You demand breathlessly, pushing at her until she falls backwards.
You both have to part as she moves backwards, situating herself on the languid couch, her eyes following you as you move alongside her. Her captivating blue eyes are gazing up at you, your own eyes staring dreamily back at her as you hover above her, her hand once again finding your inner thigh and caressing the sensitive skin there while you slip off her shirt, leaning down to kiss at her chest which is slowly revealed until the shirt is entirely discarded and tossed across the room in a disregarding manner. She gasps and arches her back when she feels your lips on her skin, and you reach up to grab her hips and hold them steady while you tilt your head and begin to nip at her skin, each time discovering a new sound that Ilsa could make. And each time, your tongue darts out to soothe the bite mark before moving on to do it again.
Slowly, all clothes are pulled off and thrown to be forgotten somewhere in your living room, leaving only two women in their undergarments. While you continue to work on her neck, Ilsa has the clarity of mind to reach around your body, nails trailing along your skin making you shiver, before they reach your bra clasp, and she unlocks it before dropping the black lace bra to the floor, a gasp escaping her at the sight of you. Your perky breasts, nipples hard and begging for her attention. Something which Ilsa happily obliges to, her hands moving to your waist where she pulls at you, beckoning to move up a bit, which in turn allows her to wrap her hungry lips around one of your nipples. You gasp, the sound followed by a desperate moan while all your resolve falters at once, causing you flounder and fall slightly above her. But she keeps you steady while her tongue twirls around your hardened nipple, other hand going to message the opposite breast, making sure to be attentive to both of them. Your mouth falls open and you swear you could fall apart entirely just at this.
You lift your knee up roughly, pushing it in between her legs and against her soaked core, causing her to yelp and bite down slightly on your nipple. You mewl in partial pleasure and partial pain, hands moving to fist her hair while she begins to grind down hard on your knee, begging for a release. The sounds of your passion is resounding through the small apartment, and you push back her head harshly, making her let go of your breast with a small pop and a reluctant groan, and you soothe her disappointment by leaning down and connecting your lips in a short and passionate kiss, before pulling apart and beginning to slide down her warm body. You lean in and biggin kissing your way down Ilsa’s stomach while she squirms beneath you, her hands reaching for your locks of hair as well, while your own hands move to trail down her body. “Y/N, please,” She pants and gazes down at your flushed face before letting out a whimper and leaning back her head, gripping at your hair, and earning a pleased sigh from you. “Spread your legs for me,” you then demand in answer, your voice soft and breathless, eyes following her as she does as you say. Your own hands move to aid her, and you grip her soft thighs, massaging the soft flesh while you keep them apart, your eyes now falling upon her beautiful centre. A smile spreads on your face as you lean in to gently fan your warm breath over the sensitive muscle. “Is this all for me?...” You ask in a teasing voice, and before Ilsa even manages a proper answer, your tongue is on her, licking a stripe up her wet lips, making her gasp and throw back her head in a moan while she desperately tries to push your head closer into her cunt. You oblige.
Immediately you get to work and move your head in closer, kissing and nipping at her sensitive folds, earning multiple pleased sounds from the British spy, accompanied by unintelligible shouts and praises as she grips onto you and quiver under your ministrations. And as you continue working her, Ilsa’s legs move to wrap around your neck, thighs pressed against your shoulders, almost suffocating you. But you don’t mind, far from it, you take it as encouragement and you push in your tongue, making her scream your name. And you pick up your pace, one hand moving to press on the sensitive nub just above her slit, and you press down, moving your fingers in circles while you thrust your tongue in and out of her. The sounds you rip from her only egging you on to move faster, deeper, and more passionate. You are almost out of breath, choking on her sweet pussy when you move to push in the finger at her nub as well and she convulses above you in pleasure as you thrust in and out of her at an even more intense pace.
“I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please, I’m so close!” Her pleading only gets her so far and you smile into her center while continuing your movements, ripping into her pleasurably, until she eventually falls apart. Ilsa’s body shakes and quakes beneath you, but you hold on to her roughly and fuck her through the orgasm while her eyes roll back, seeing stars and feeling nothing but your tongue and finger deep inside her. she cums hard on your tongue, and you waste no time licking it off her, you wont let a drop go to waste. The woman’s shouts and moans of ecstasy don’t die down as she is driven off the edge in a violent crash of love and pleasure, her body sweaty and hot beneath your fingers, and it takes a good couple minutes before you finally pull out off her, sucking off your fingers while she heaves for air on the couch, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, head still lolled back in a blissed out manner. It brings an amused smile to your face, seeing the deadly spy in such a position, beneath you and shivering from the pleasure you just brought her. and you bring your free hand to her chin, tilting her head back to look at you, “Y/N…” She breathes out in a longing tone, and you nod at her, “right here with you,” your tone is gentle and caring in a way that was so strange to hear from a spy who usually spends her time killing without a second thought. With her you were someone else entirely, and with a genuine smile, you lean down to plant a loving kiss on her now swollen lips, a kiss that she returns clumsily. A kiss much more caring than the passionate ones you shared before before.
Ilsa sighs, coming down from her high gradually and comfortably as she brings you closer to her, almost as if she were scared you might slip through her fingers and disappear. “I’m gonna have to explain to my boss why you still aren’t dead once I get back, you know…” She murmurs into the sloppy kiss, and you simply hum in reply, “I’m sure we can make something up.” You nonchalantly shrug on your shoulders while shifting your body to lay down on the couch along with her, limbs entangled with each other as your bodies both seek each other’s warmth. A small chuckle leaves her lips, one which could be mistaken for a simple amused laugh, but you could clearly recognize the somber undertones. How you wish it would just be a simple happy laugh, how you wished to see her at peace. But this field of work that you were both in, it was never at peace. That was the harsh truth.
“I swear, you’ll get me killed one of these days, you idiot…” She whispered softly, and you knew that she meant it with all the love in the world. And yet you were afraid that one day she would be right, and the thought made you pull her a bit closer, sighing against her smooth skin. “Idiot spy…” She then added in a murmur and leaned her head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin and closing her eyes. Idiot spies who were digging their own graves. But… You supposed it wouldn’t be so bad after all. As long as you could share that grave. Together.
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bigbrain · 2 years
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Day 4: Toriel
I tried a bit more elaborate doodle for goat mom! Shhh, let the old lady rest, she needs it. Also the part where the Annoying Dog steals her phone is gold
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ghostgirl101 · 1 month
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
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You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
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grimm-writings · 1 month
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pathetic
…ft! dan heng, topaz, argenti, seele x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, pining, reader is oblivious as HELL!!!, seele’s slightly suggestive
…wc! 210 ; 319 ; 258 ; 305 = 1092
…notes! pathetic crushing… i cannot and will not ever stop vouching for pathetic pining in this house !!!!!!!
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Dan Heng is painfully aware of how he looks right now.  If it wasn’t March giving him the biggest shit-eating grin, it was Himeko trying hard to look polite as she hides her giggles, or even Mr Yang pretending he isn’t paying attention.
You.  You really haven’t the slightest clue what you’re doing to him.
Every time you visit him in the Express’s archives, Dan Heng would light up.  He wouldn’t do that for any such person usually.  His excuse is that you bring him snacks.  You would never complain, saying that you’d take this Dan Heng over the one with a poker face and sarcastic bites, even if he is just as cute.
How can you say that so casually?
One particular visit, he couldn’t take your sweet words any longer.  His hand envelops yours before you could turn away from him.  The way you look back at Dan Heng makes his heart swell in ways he couldn’t comprehend.
He couldn’t get the words out.
His grip loosens and he lets you go, albeit with confusion on your face.
The door closes with a quiet goodbye, and Dan Heng throws his head back in frustration, staring at the decorated ceiling above him.
How can he go on like this...?
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Topaz is not the kind of person to sit idly by waiting for something to happen.  She knows what she wants, and what she wants takes the shape of you.
You’re just so adorable!  Really, the way you act so clueless whenever you flirt with her is just so endearing!  How could she not melt?
…Well, it used to be easy.  Flirting, complimenting you, relishing in how you react; she even asked you out to dinner, and took you to the nicest place possible!  …But you’re still so shocked every time.  You still didn’t pick up on any of her advances.
For once, Topaz is at a complete loss.  What is she to do?  Grab you by the shoulders and shake you around telling you that she’s completely enamoured with everything about you, and though that includes your cluelessness, she can’t take much of it anymore?
She could nearly keel over.  Complete overkill.  She needs to be smart about this; clear, but also suave and mature.  Yeah, she can do this!
That’s how you find Numby making their way up to you, and there they drop a card in front of your feet.  They curiously look up at you as you read, although you could sense another pair of eyes watching you closely.
‘You’re cute!  Go out with me!  Love, Topaz!’
Topaz could nearly explode from joy watching your face heat up.  Finally.  Finally!  You get it now, don’t you?!
Her heart steps as you throw the card away and lean down and pet Numby.  “Oh, Numby.  Someone must have put you up to this for a prank, huh?  You should find your way back to Topaz!”
Said companion of the Warp Trotter has already fallen to her knees with her face in her hands.  You’re more work than she bargained for… but she’ll be struck down by an Aeon before she gives up on you!  Just watch her!
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Argenti doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Truly, he’s making all the right moves.  He’s following examples from stories and myths, step by step.  It’s not his fault that they always end up going wrong somehow.  Maybe it’s just harsh luck…
He’s on one knee, taking your hand in his own.  Like you are royalty, he kisses the back of it, and looks up at you.
“Thank you for saving me!”  You beam, and Argenti’s brain freezes.
That’s how it all goes wrong, every single time.
He’s hopeless, how the knight of beauty stands up, turns around, and immediately feels his knees buckle and he’s down on the ground again.  Maybe he’ll stay like this for a few minutes when he finishes crying.
He feels you kneel at his side, and prod against his armour.  “Argenti…?” your sweet, sweet voice calls out to him quietly.
“Worry not.  I am simply fighting the dirt in your honour.  Keeping the worms off of you.”
You pause.  He wouldn’t dislike being buried here like this.  Then he hears your confused laughter.  “Alright then!  Thank you very much, sir knight!”
You pet his hair and stand up again, making your way back to a safe zone.
Yes, Argenti thinks, I will stay here and fend off the insects for you, my dear.  And that is the only reason why I can’t move…
He certainly refuses to believe it’s your patience and kindness.  How silly would it be for a knight of beauty to become so immobilised by it!  How silly indeed…
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Seele encourages you to stand up again.  A simple sparring doesn’t do too much harm every now and again.  She isn’t Luka; she won’t beg you for a match, but practice is good, and practice is better if it’s with a friend.
Haha.  Keep telling yourself that, Seele. 
Is it obvious yet she really wants you to just defeat her already?  She knows you have it in you.  Yeah, you’re more on the air-headed side, but you’re a reliable teammate!  Maybe it’s the fact you refuse to actually hurt her…
You apologise again when you’re back on your feet.  She doesn’t want any apologies, dang you!  Can’t you see she’s just desperate to get you to at least brush your knuckles against hers as her scythe comes in conflict with your blade?!
…So that does it.  In her mental ramblings, you manage to get her on the ground beneath you.  Your thighs cage her under you as you push her down.  Aeons, your smile is so wide.
“I got you!” you exclaim.
Seele can’t help the small laugh that escapes her.  She hopes that her face is only red to you because of your fighting.  You’re so close to her face.  You could just kiss her right now…
“Yep, you really did!” is what comes out, shakier than she would have liked.  How did you get her so weak?  You’re not even making a big deal over straddling her like this…
You shimmy off her eventually, offering your hand out.  “Time for lunch?”
Seele doesn’t move for a few seconds, before letting you pick her up.  If not a kiss, she can at least get some quality time.  The way you smile at her is enough for her.
…How you pushed her down will definitely haunt her dreams for the next week or so, though.
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Text
*Lepi walks to the store in human form. Giggling at the fact that they are now doing normal human things as a human.
........
*Lepi feels watched. They continue
BAM!
*Lepi gasps and narrowly dodges some sort of magic blast.
What... what on earth......
Your going to have to try harder than that
*Someone appears behind Lepi and shoots them with something. There's a yellow light. It burns.
AHG FUCK!
*Lepi turns around and tries to cast a spell on the attacker. It... it doesn't work?
Hahaha! Your magical energies gone. Neat lil trick i learned.
*Lepi falls backwards and quickly tries to reach into thier hair. It doesn't work.
Nope. Not going to work this time. Turns out that little thing you got going in your head is also powered by magic. Albiet not very much magic.
*The figure approaches and grabs Lepi by the face. Lepi tries to get away. But the figure just grabs thier face tighter.
Curious though.... your still human.....
*Lepi's eyes grow wide. How do they know so much about me? They claw at the figures arm. It is not effective.
...... weak.
*They throw Lepi to the ground. Lepi tries to run. The human whispers something and spikes erupt in front of Lepi. Lepi falls to the ground.
Another fun trick! Turns out magic wasn't that hard to learn after all. Now
*The human grabs Lepi and holds them by the throat. Lepi grabs the persons arm in a desperate attempt to keep from choking.
Do you remember me? Look at my face.
*The human pulls Lepi closer to thier face. Lepi tries to look away
No. Look at my face.
*The human forces Lepi to look at them. Orange... eyes....
You don't know me... do you
........
*The human's expression drops to a blank face. The human is seething.
*The human throws Lepi to the ground again and steps on Lepi's leg. Hard. Breaking it
AHG! S-STOP!!
*Lepi curls up and grabs thier leg whimpering
Pathetic. You don't even remember.
*The human begins walking towards Lepi. Lepi begins trying to desperately crawl away. The figure picks Lepi up again and turns them to look at thier face.
LOOK AT MY FACE!! WHO AM I? DO YOU NOT EVEN HAVE THE BASIC DECENCY TO REMEMBER THE PEOPLE YOU DESTROYED THE LIVES OF?? I SPENT SO LONG REMEMBERING YOU. I KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT YOU NOW. I SPENT ALL THIS TIME LOOKING FOR YOU. SO WHO AM I?
*The human punches Lepi in the face. Giving them a black eye. They look at the human. A palpable fear rises in them. Destroyed...? They remember the cities they raised to ashes. No...nonononono, this isn't happening, not like this.
*Lepi gets up. Limping.
OH?? AHAHAHAHAhahaha... so are you going to try to fight? In that state? You are so much easier to fight than I thought. You are just a weak little moth, after all.
*The human begins running. Readying another punch. Something snaps in Lepi when they hear the human's words. They dodge and grab the human by the head. Flipping them over onto the ground. The human quickly gets up. The spikes appear right where Lepi is. Lepi throws themself out of the way. The human takes this opportunity to fling Lepi across the ground again. The human slowly walks to the ground towards Lepi. Knowing Lepi isn't in a state to go anywhere fast.
Im.... im not... weak
ahah...AHAHAHAHAHA THAT'S ALL YOU CARE ABOUT? NO. NO, YOU ARE WEAK. WEAK AND PATHETIC. LOOK AT HOW EASY THIS IS!!
*The figure grabs Lepi again and throws them against a tree. Lepi coughs blood
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YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME. MY LIFE. MY FAMILY. MY HOME. EVERYTHINGS GONE!! I SPENT ALL THIS TIME TRYING TO FIND YOU AND YOU BARELY PUT UP A FIGHT!!
*The figure punches Lepi again out of frustration. Lepi looks at the person in the eyes. The person has a crazed smile, and tears streaming down their face. Lepi feels an inescapable sense of dread. Lepi takes the punches.
WHY AREN'T YOU FIGHTING BACK??? WEAK!!! YOU WERE SO MUCH STRONGER BEFORE WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??? ARE ALL WIZARDS THIS WEAK WITHOUT MAGIC??
*The figure continues punching Lepi.
I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL KILL YOU LIKE YOU KILLED THEM!! ILL HURT EVERYONE YOU LOVE!!
AHahahaha.... no....no that's too easy..... i can't kill you yet. I spent this long trying to find you. Im going to enjoy this. Go. Run. Or i'll make your living moments so fucking painful.
*Lepi takes this opportunity. They desperately stumble away. The person laughs wildly and continues calling Lepi a coward.
*Once Lepi is a good distance away, they go into an alleyway in the town. Lepi leans against the wall and sinks to the ground. They grab their head and panick. Gasping for air. Their voice is raspy and squeaky.
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
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thatsdemko · 1 year
Text
a sleepless night in monaco - c.leclerc
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masterlist
requested: n
pairings: Charles leclerc x reader
warnings: just fluff(lmk if I’m missing anything!)
a/n: I’m sure this has been done somewhere along the lines but I didn’t dig deep enough into the ‘f1 imagines’ tag so I apologize! 😅 also feedback is appreciated if you have any🫶 cheers!
tossing and turning, irritation grew that you couldn’t drift into a deep sleep. the cool breeze from outside was blowing the makeshift curtains, that attempted to cover up the night life of monaco into your apartment.
your boyfriend, Charles, was sound asleep beside you. the light snoring escaping his mouth every so often made you smile, but also envious of his slumber. you watched his bare chest rise and fall during each breath, desperately wanting his body against yours, but there was no way of doing so without waking him up.
you let out a soft sigh removing the covers from your body deciding to take yourself somewhere else in order to not wake up Charles. you grabbed your phone off your nightstand, and headed into the living room making sure each step was carefully thought out to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend. but of course, he felt the mattress lighten causing him to stir awake reaching for you, to find you weren’t there.
he got himself out of bed now to go find you. he couldn’t think of a reason why you weren’t in bed with him. there was no argument or night shifts this week, so he couldn’t put a finger to why you were in the living room cozied up under the blankets channel surfing.
“come back to bed.” you heard the groggy soft scratched voice of your boyfriend, coming to the living room to try and take you back to bed with him.
“I can’t sleep, Charles. you have training early in the morning, go back to sleep.” you tried to push him away, but he kept pulling your arm to join him.
“baby, I can’t sleep without you.” he groaned pressing kisses to your hands in hopes of giving you some persuasion to join him. he wasn’t thinking straight after having been awoken from his deep sleep, but he knew with you out here, he couldn’t sleep.
“you’ve been sleeping without me for two nights, Charles. I haven’t been able to sleep.” it was true, you weren’t sure what was getting to you but it was now a third night with no sleep.
“how about I make you some tea? that might help.” before you could answer, he was moving into the kitchen to grab a kettle and adding water. you watched his back muscles flex reaching the top shelf where the tea bag’s sat.
“chamomile or peppermint?”
“you pick.” you yawned snuggling into the couch cushions while a rerun of an early 90s show flickered onto the screen of the television.
he walks away from the kitchen allowing the water in the kettle to boil, and it’s not long before he returns with two sweatshirts. one for him and one for you. he quickly tosses you one hearing the kettle scream, he grabs a mug and a tea bag beginning to make your tea just the walk you like it.
approaching you with the hot liquid contents he hands you the mug carefully, “this has sugar in it?” you ask taking a sip of the bitter chamomile tea.
“no sugar, it’ll keep you awake.” he replies settling down next to you on the couch, tugging some blanket into his lap. you don’t know what you did to deserve him to sacrifice his sleep for you, but you knew you would have to repay him.
“thank you, I owe you.”
he shrugs it off like it was nothing, because truth be told, he would do anything for you. you could be dying and he would retire from his race, that he was winning, just for you. that being said, making you a cup of tea and staying awake until you fell asleep, was not a big deal.
“it’s not a big deal.” he pressed his lips to your cheek watching you yawn and attempt to set the mug down on the coaster, he grabs it for you completing the action.
“now I’m sleepy, should we go back to bed?” you pulling the blanket off his lap draping it around your shoulders, your eyes fighting with sleep now.
“well now I’m awake.” he jokes grabbing the remote to turn off the television and your cup of tea for bed.
“come on, let’s sleep.”
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hxxsxxngx · 1 month
Text
JAKE 심재윤 - LOVE FROM AFAR
MINORS DNI
Word Count : 3.9k
Genre : SMUT, ANGST
Content : bar fight, jealousy, toxic ex, mention on infidelity, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, praising, creampie, implied consumption of alcohol, sloppy make out….. let me know if i missed anything!
Preview : Once Jake finds out that his girl of interest is single, who knows what measures he is willing to take it to protect her?
Authors Note : Thank you to whoever requested this, I definitely had fun writing it!
SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want
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You were having a great night catching up with your buddies Felix and Bangchan at the local pub. It had been too long since you all got together like the old days. As they joked and reminisced about the past, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having such caring friends in your life.
Suddenly, Felix's friend Jake arrived, pulling up a chair to join your booth. You vaguely remembered meeting the scruffy-yet-handsome guy with a warm smile once or twice before at other hangouts. He seemed nice enough, if not a little quieter and awkward around you specifically.
As the four of you continued swapping stories and laughing over fresh rounds, something about Jake's furtive glances and blushing kept catching your eye. You couldn't deny the slightly giddy feeling it gave you to rendered this usually composed guy so flustered. He was pretty cute when he got all shy like that.
Maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe you just felt emboldened by the positive energy. Whatever the reason, you decided to be a little flirty as you leaned in closer to Jake.
"So do you boys always get this rowdy, or am I just bringing out the wild side?" you teased with a wink.
Jake's eyes went wide as his cheeks flushed an even darker crimson. He seemed to be struggling to formulate a response as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Um...w-well, I uh, we don't want to...you know, shock you or anything--"
He was saved by the interruption of your phone ringing. Flashing an apologetic smile, you excused yourself from the booth to take the call. It was your boyfriend wanting to know if you were free later to come over and watch a movie.
"Yeah babe, I'll be there in a couple hours!" you replied affectionately before rejoining the group.
If you had turned back around just a few seconds sooner, you might have caught the way Jake's expression fell when he overheard you refer to your boyfriend. He shrunk back into himself, the brief moment of bravery evaporating.
Over the ensuing months, you noticed Jake never acted quite the same way again when you were around. He was polite and friendly, but also seemed to keep a distance, like he was afraid to let himself get too close. You figured he just wasn't someone who enjoyed casual flirting even in jest. Either way, it didn't really matter since you were happily taken anyway.
Until one day...you weren't anymore. Just like that, a two-year relationship came crashing down after you discovered your boyfriend's unfaithfulness. You were blindsided and devastated.
As you nursed your broken heart, Felix and Bangchan were there every step of the way, rallying around you with movie nights, distraction activities, and a steadfast supportive presence. True friends when you needed them most.
One evening a couple months later, you arrived at a dimly lit bar where the three of you normally met up. You were finally feeling like your old self again after weeks of sadness and anger. Ready to just be around your friends and enjoy a fun night out.
The moment you walked through the door, you heard a familiar voice call out from a booth off to the side.
"Hey! Over here!"
It was Jake, looking as handsome as you remembered even under the low lighting. He had stood up from the booth and was waving you over with a warm smile.
You couldn't help but feel a small flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. Despite the slight awkwardness that encounter at the pub, you always thought Jake seemed like a good guy deep down. And if he was here hanging out with Felix and Bangchan...maybe you could finally get to know him better without that weird tension.
As you reached the booth, exchanging greetings and hello hugs, you noticed Jake's arms linger around you perhaps a beat longer than necessary. And this time when he looked into your eyes, there wasn't a hint of shyness or restraint behind them.
"It's really great to see you out and about again," he murmured once you were all seated. "You're, uh...you're looking as beautiful as ever."
You felt your face warm at the sincere compliment, an unfamiliar bout of flustered energy starting to buzz within you. What was this all of a sudden?
"Uh thanks, Jake...you're not looking too bad yourself," you managed to reply, unable to stop yourself from chewing your lower lip nervously.
Felix and Bangchan traded looks like they were watching a private tennis match, wondering just how heated this newly charged atmosphere might get.
Before things could get too tense though, Felix cleared his throat and changed the subject, regaling you all with a story about a hilarious screw-up at his job earlier that week. You forced yourself to shift your gaze off Jake's intense stare and laugh along with the others.
By the end of the night, you almost felt...disappointed? Like there was some
elephant in the room you wished would address itself directly instead of all this subtext. You brushed it off as emotional vulnerability from your recent breakup making you read into things.
The weeks after, however, proved those suspicions false. Because every interaction, every hangout, every moment with the four of you together continued carrying the same electrifying undercurrent of tension, especially between you and Jake.
The way his warm eyes would linger on you when you laughed, the random innocent touches and grazed caresses that made your skin tingle, the undisguised admiration and want in his gaze when you caught him staring...it was all quickly becoming impossible to ignore or chalk up to simple friendliness.
You couldn't lie, you felt it too - that persistent, gnawing pull toward Jake growing stronger with each encounter. There was just something magnetic about his presence, his humor, his gentle teasing and care for your emotional wellbeing.
But you were still terrified of being vulnerable and opening yourself up again so soon after being burned. Especially to someone like Jake, who clearly had some very intense feelings starting to develop, if they weren't already there to begin with.
That fear reached a fever pitch one evening when the four of you were gathered at Felix's place before heading out. You had just finished getting ready in the bathroom when Jake poked his head in to ask if you needed any help with your hair or makeup.
"Sure, I could use another set of hands back here if you don't mind," you replied absentmindedly, turning away from the mirror to grab a comb.
The next thing you felt were Jake's strong hands gently gathering your hair as he positioned himself directly behind you. His broad chest was nearly pressed against your back, the warmth radiating off him in tantalizing waves.
"Here, let me..." he murmured in that deep, gravelly tone so close to your ear. You caught the intense look in his eyes through the mirror as his fingers deftly began running and separating through your locks.
Every brush of his knuckles against the nape of your neck made your heart skip a beat. The soft, even breaths puffing against your skin raised delicious goosebumps along your arms. And the smoldering, hooded gaze he was burning into you through the mirror reflection was quickly dampening your panties with arousal.
You were both entirely under each other's spells, the thick sexual tension swirling through the small bathroom like an intoxicating fog. All Jake would have to do is turn your chin and slant his lips over yours and you would have melted into a helpless puddle against him.
The trance was finally broken by a muffled shout from the other room of Felix yelling "You two good back there?"
As if getting doused with a bucket of cold water, you and Jake sprung apart, awkwardness and uncertainty crashing back in. You muttered a quick thanks before rushing out of the bathroom, flustered and needing to put some distance between the two of you before you did something reckless.
After tiptoeing around each other for a couple more weeks, you finally broke down one night and asked Felix what the deal was with Jake. Why he was giving you such intense, loaded vibes lately despite having barely interacted before.
Felix let out a long sigh before breaking the truth - Jake had been harboring a massive secret crush on you for years, long before you started dating your now-ex even. But he never acted on it or admitted those feelings because you were already in a committed relationship by the time you met him.
Now that you were newly single, however, all those long-simmering emotions and attractions were bubbling out from Jake at full force. He was struggling with wanting to pursue you, but also not wanting to make you uncomfortable or disrespect any boundaries while you were fresh out of your heartbreak.
You were stunned speechless, your mind swirling as you processed this information. All those small nuanced moments between you and Jake over the past couple of months finally clicked into place. How had you not seen it sooner?
More importantly...what did you want to do about it now? The thought of exploring those sparks between you and Jake made your heart race. But you were also still so freshly vulnerable from being crushed by betrayal and heartache. Could you really take that leap again so soon?
~~~~~
In the weeks that followed after Felix filled you in about Jake's long-standing romantic feelings, you couldn't stop mulling it over. Every time you saw Jake's warm smile or got pulled into his magnetic presence, your mind raced with the possibilities.
There was no denying the potent chemistry and tension that had been building between you two. Even before you knew about Jake's crush, you felt that persistent pull towards him, that fire simmering with every loaded gaze or innocent touch.
Now that you had context for what was truly driving that intensity from his end...it felt like the coals had been stoked into an inferno. You couldn't get Jake off your mind, couldn't stop imagining what it would feel like to finally act on those sparks.
The more you allowed yourself to lean into the fantasy, the more you realized you were falling for him too. Despite the all-too-fresh sting of betrayal, Jake's caring presence and unguarded desire for you were quickly healing those wounds.
Of course, you had reservations about opening yourself up again so soon. But Jake was clearly different - his intentions pure, his affections transparent. Maybe taking that terrifying leap would be worth it after all.
One night, after spending an evening together that had your skin tingling from lingering caresses and eye contact, you finally summoned the courage to go for it. As he walked you to your car, you spun around, grasped the front of his shirt, and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Jake instantly melted into you with a rumbling groan, his strong hands grasping at your waist to pull you flush against him. You lost yourselves in that fervent clash of lips and roaming touches, all those months of unresolved tension pouring out.
When you finally parted, cheeks flushed and chests heaving, the depths of Jake's gaze sparked with pure reverence and awestruck lust. No words were needed as you gazed at each other's swollen lips and tousled hair - you both knew everything had irreversibly changed in the most overwhelming way.
From that moment on, you and Jake were inseparable. You went from months of "what ifs" to not being able to keep your hands off each other. The slightest brush or heated look was enough to have you desperate to jump his bones at any opportunity.
For Jake, it was like a dream come true after pining from afar for so long. Finally being able to worship every perfect inch of you, to tangle his body with yours, to drink in your breathy moans and whimpers...he never wanted this haze to end.
You were both entirely drunk on each other, drowning in the depths of your smoldering passion. Any lingering fears or heartache you had were washed away by the passionate intensity Jake craved you with, how eternal his devotion felt.
Of course, such a whirlwind romance wasn't without ruffling some feathers. About two months into your torrid new relationship, you crossed paths with your ex at a local bar while out with friends.
"Well, well..." the snide voice called out as soon as they spotted you. "If it isn't my favorite dumped loser found someone newer, dumber, and even more desperate to settle for less."
You instinctively shrank back, feeling that old sense of shame and hurt bubble up despite Jake's arm protectively wrapped around you. But this time, you didn't have to face that menace alone.
Jake immediately stepped forward, jaw clenched as he attempted to keep his fury in check. "Why don't you do yourself a favor and get the hell out of here before I make you," he warned in a low, dangerous tone.
Your ex only scoffed, clearly finding amusement in watching Jake's anger boiling over. With a drunken saunter, they closed the gap between you, keeping their gaze locked on yours.
"Don't forget, I know you better than this sad rebound ever will," they taunted with a cruel smirk. "I know all the filthy little things that got you--"
Whatever nasty comment they hoped to sling next was cut off by Jake's hand violently shoving them backwards. Your ex's dumbfounded shock soon dissolved into equal rage as they came charging back at Jake, grabbing him by the collar as the two began exchanging shoves.
"Hey, hey! Break it up!" your other friends tried jumping in to separate the heated tussle, but not before your ex landed a hard punch square on Jake's cheekbone.
That was the final straw. Like some primal switch being flipped, Jake totally snapped. With a feral growl, he tackled your ex to the ground, taking a few more solid hits as the two rolled around in furious punches and choke holds.
"Jake! Oh my god, stop!" you cried out in horror, watching helplessly.
It wasn't until a handful of bouncers finally broke through to pull them apart that the violence ceased. Jake was dragged out back by a couple of the burly guards, clothes disheveled and sporting a split lip while the other patrons sneered at your ex being dragged out as well.
Your heart was still racing from the adrenaline and shock as you rushed out the back exit after Jake. He was leaning against the wall, chest heaving and knuckles bleeding from the brawl.
"Jake! Are you okay?" you rushed over, cradling his face to inspect the damage. He hissed at the contact against his wounded skin before melting into your touch with a heavy exhale.
Those stormy irises locked onto yours, slightly glazed but burning with pure longing and possession. "I'm so sorry, baby...I just..." he rasped, voice dripping with unrestrained desire. "I just couldn't stand the thought of that piece of shit being anywhere near you, talking to you that way..."
One of his hands slid up to tangle desperately in your hair while the other snaked around your lower back, pulling your hips flush against his hardening length. "You're mine now," he growled before capturing your mouth in a torrid, demanding kiss.
You opened for him with a heady whimper, the thrill of claiming this smoldering, dominant side of Jake setting your blood on fire. His tongue invaded greedily as he walked you backwards, pinning you against the wall with his body weighing deliciously against you.
~~~~~
Any care for location or being seen was abandoned as Jake's arousal ground shamelessly against your core, his big hands gripping and roaming with reckless possession. You gave back as good as you got - raking nails down his back, nipping at his full lips with moans muffled between heated clashes of tongue and teeth.
Just as the frenzied make-out was reaching a fever pitch, a loud clatter from behind the dumpster nearby caused you both to jump apart, chests heaving. Jake's eyes bored into yours, still glazed with lust but now mixed with frustration at the interruption.
"Get in the car," he rasped in a low rumble, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the parking lot. "We're going somewhere more private."
You eagerly followed, legs still wobbly from the dizzying heat coursing through you. The ride to Jake's apartment felt like an agonizing eternity with how badly you were both aching to crash together again. He kept one hand firmly planted on your thigh, thumb tracing maddening circles that had you squirming.
The second you crossed the threshold into his place, Jake pinned you against the door, claiming your lips in another heated, desperate clash. You melted into him as his talented fingers quickly divested you of your dress, palms roaming every newly exposed inch of skin.
You fumbled with his belt and jeans as he attacked the sensitive spots along your neck and collarbone with a trail of opened-mouth kisses. Each graze of his teeth and insistent suckle from those full lips had you whimpering in delirious need.
Somehow you managed to get Jake's pants undone, allowing his thick hardness to spring free as he kicked them off along with his shoes. You drank in a shuddering breath at the glorious sight of his arousal, already leaking with need for you.
Jake's heated gaze followed yours, a prideful smirk tugging at his swollen lips. "You like what you see, baby?" he rumbled, giving himself a slow, teasing stroke.
You bit your lip with a tiny nod, unable to tear your eyes away. That only made his cocky grin widen further as he leaned in close, beard tantalizingly scratching your jaw.
"I'm going to make you feel so good, make you remember that you belong only to me" he murmured, the deep timbre of his gravelly desire sending shivers straight to your core. "Let me worship every perfect inch of you, nice and slow..."
As if to emphasize his point, Jake trailed a series of torturously unhurried open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest again before dropping to his knees. His smoldering gaze remained locked on yours as his fingers hooked into your soaked underwear and slowly dragged them down your trembling legs.
You were bare before him now, glistening arousal fully exposed to his ravenous stare. Jake's hands roamed back up the smooth skin of your thighs, close to your throbbing center yet making no move to provide relief just yet.
"Such a gorgeous sight..." he husked in reverence. "All mine."
Unable to take any more teasing, you carded your fingers through his thick locks as his lips ghosted nearer to your pussy. "Please, Jake..." you mewled desperately.
That was all the encouragement he needed before diving in. You cried out at the first swipe of Jake's talented tongue, back arching against the door as waves of electric pleasure flooded through you...
He was relentless, sucking harder and deeper, plundering your wet folds until his tongue was completely coated with your slick essence. You gasped loudly with an intense wave of pleasure, leaving you breathless and panting.
The rhythmic motion driving you insane until you suddenly broke down into violent, uncontrolled moans of ecstasy. It was over too soon though as Jake pulled away, sitting back on his heels with a self satisfied smile and dark eyes glittering.
He carefully took the wet, limp package in his large hand and gently stroked your slick slit. "You're gonna be so fucking ready for me tonight, sweetheart," he assured huskily. "Trust me. There's nothing you could possibly do that would turn me off."
And then he lowered himself over you, spreading the moisture around, filling you with such potent satisfaction that you almost screamed in bliss. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist as Jake sank slowly and surely down until he could bury himself inside you easily. As he started slowly moving, you gripped his shoulders tightly with your thighs, your entire body tensing and relaxing under his weight. His hands tightened around your arms and shoulders to make sure you weren't trying to crawl away. He held still, letting your body adjust itself to his thickness until the feeling started to fade. As your legs relaxed, they found a more comfortable place to rest, and your stomach felt better about being full. After you got used to being filled up, he reached down to gently cup your tit in one large hand as he pressed himself even deeper, burying himself within you with one hard thrust. His long fingers caressed your soft skin, drawing groans from your lips with every flick of his finger.
With the most powerful thrusts, Jake filled you completely in one go, filling you entirely and filling every single space. For a moment it seemed like there wouldn't be enough room anymore in your womb; you'd never been so far gone before with anyone else, but Jake made that possible by holding you so close and filling you so much you couldn't get enough of each other.
You held tight to his muscular back, digging your heels into the mattress as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm, your walls clenching down on his rigid shaft with a fierce, hungry grip. He let out a feral growl of satisfaction as you writhed beneath him, grinding yourself against him faster and quicker, begging for release. Your whole body shook with pent up passion, the need to come crashing down on you like a tsunami.
With a sharp jerk, he suddenly stiffened underneath you, causing you to cry out. His breathing became labored as your pussy clenched around his girth with unrelenting intensity. You didn't think you'd ever seen his face contort in agony quite like that before. You both took a deep breath at the same time and released it in unison as he let you cum around his dick. His cock twitched inside of you, but you didn't want to break eye contact; he was still so intent on looking at you. Your hands reached up to run through his hair again, and he bent down to kiss you gently as you both enjoyed each other's company. Then it was over in an instant as he came with a deep grunt breaking the kiss, body shaking with the force of his release, painting his white masterpiece on your walls as he slumped forward, resting his forehead heavily against your naked belly with hot tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.
“I will not let him bother you ever again”
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i like me better when i’m with you - luke castellan
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summary when a new kid comes to camp, luke gets a bit more stressed than usual, and he goes to his safe space—you.
fic type fluff
pairing luke castellan x fem!Apollo!reader
word count 1.2k
warnings stressed!luke, very much fluff
masterlist
dividers from this post of @cafekitsune ! credits to them and do go check out their posts <3
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When people thought of the best swordsman in camp, their first thought was Luke Castellan. The calm Hermes cabin counselor, the one who took every unclaimed camper under his wing. It also meant he was thought of as the only one to beat Clarisse in a fight, the one who had better technique than the others by light years.
But for you, Luke was the sweet boy who brought you flowers every other day, the boy who called you ‘sunshine’ to play around, the boy who held you so gently and kissed you so sweet. To you, Luke was just a soft sweetheart who loved you to the ends of the earth.
But ‘only for you’ as a statement held fast and true with him.
He never acted the same way around other campers the way he acted with you. Not only did they never receive even the slightest easy praise as you did, but they never got that blind trust, that unwavering faith he had in you. Maybe the trust bit was a bit exclusive to Annabeth, but even then that was because they were close. Family.
So it did come to you as a shock when Percy came to camp and that side came out in Luke.
After poor Percy’s unfortunately encounter with Clarisse, you had spotted Luke with him and decided to come over. As the counselor of the Apollo cabin, you additionally decided to help your boyfriend and his new little stray.
“Hey Luke,” you smiled, approaching them both as they talked under the shade of the trees. You leaned your arm against his shoulder, smiling at Percy in a friendly way.
Luke took a second to just look at you. He took in the way the dampened sun kissed your hair, making it shine ever so slightly, the way the shadows fell cleanly on your face to highlight the contours of your face, the way you were so at ease around him and the new camper.
He was so used to seeing you that he only had to take a second to appreciate your features and presence.
“Oh, Percy, meet Y/n, Apollo cabin counselor,” Luke said with a slight smile as he looked at the boy.
You put a hand out to Percy. He did really look like a sweet boy with his soft-looking face, blue-green eyes, and curly gold hair.
“Hey Percy, welcome to camp half-blood,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n, Luke’s girlfriend,”
You could practically hear Luke roll his eyes beside you, his hand resting sneakily against the small of your back as it always did.
“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” said Percy with a small smile.
“Aw, he’s so sweet for a kid on his first day,” you said, looking at Luke, who laughed a bit and looked down, running a hand through his dark curly hair. “What’re you two up to?”
“Nothing much, sunshine, just trying to find out who’s this guy’s godly parent,” Luke shrugged, looking back at you.
“Nice,” you laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I won’t hold you guys up for too long, though. Don’t worry,”
However, once you left, as usual Luke felt your absence instantly. It wasn’t the literal absence, obviously, which everyone felt, but he always felt like a part of him was missing when he wasn’t around you. As if part of his happiness wasn’t there because in truth, it wasn’t.
It also meant his safe space was not around instantly. It meant that his confidant was too many steps away to be immediate, to be accessible.
So he waited, as always.
He waited for the sun to go down, for the time for responsibilities to go down with it. He waited for the moon to rise, for the sky to turn from cornflower to depthless midnight blue.
The camp was quiet, deathly so, with the distant call of owls from the woods and the rustle of leaves when the scarce wind blew. The night was a mask which cloaked his sounds, his footsteps, his presence, as he walked down the mossy stone pathway into the trees, towards the mirroring lake.
There you sat, the daughter of the sun, looking ever-radiant in the moon’s soft glow. Your body was a silhouette against the silver of the ethereal light, your calculating eyes cast towards the lake, where there seemed another world to mirror this.
Lost in your own thoughts, thoughts which were kept at bay during the sun’s time, you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps, the shift of the pebbles on the lakeside, come up behind you and rest his hands on your shoulders.
“Luke, you scared the hell out of me!” You exclaimed, laughing softly, looking up at him with shining eyes.
He shrugged and sat beside you, leaning back on his palms as his long legs stretched out before him, feet a good way away from the water.
“It wasn’t intentional,” he smiled, looking at you.
Your brows quirked up, amused. “Oh, is that right?”
“Yup,”
“Don’t pop the ‘p’ like that you sound ridiculous,”
“I can never sound ridiculous, I’m too good looking for that,”
“Can’t say I agree,”
He looked at you with mock offence and grabbed you around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he ruffled your hair, ignoring your hushed protests and struggles.
You finally squirmed out of his grip, laughing softly.
“You’re such an ass!” You laughed, shoving him by the shoulder.
He winked at you, smiling in that same mischievous way that reminded you that despite his responsibilities, he wasn’t quite the adult he portrayed himself as. He was just 19, not even at legal drinking age, for gods’ sake.
But he had to admit that your laugh was the sweetest, most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life. It felt like the spring’s first sun—warm, gentle, and comforting. Perhaps even familiar, he would say.
“Now tell me what’s wrong, love,” you said, your e/c falling to rest on his own, holding what looked like concern.
Was he being concerning? At least he must be, for you to look at him as if his puppy just got run over…
‘Safe space, Luke,’ he reminded himself. ‘She knows you too well, she gets you,’
He sighed and nodded, “Well, for starters, Percy’s still unclaimed and will not let the whole ‘where is my dad’ thing go,”
“Baby, he’s 12, of course he’s in shock, he can’t just let things go,” you said.
Of course, Y/n L/n, the voice of straightforward reason.
“I know but…” he sharply let out a breath, trying to find the words which were on the tip of his tongue but were stuck in his throat. “He’s just…he’s not accepting things the way they are. He’s so damn persistent, constantly questioning the way things work.”
You moved closer to him, moving such that you could sit behind him and pull him close to you, letting his back rest against you while your legs stayed on either side. He felt your hands start to play with his curls, fingertips running over his scalp gently.
His whole body tingled, his skin warmed from your touch. Not only was it because you kept your own skin a little warm on cold nights like this but because of how soft you were with him, because of how gentle your touch was. Because he felt a blush creep along his cheeks at the familiarity of the gesture, at how affectionate you were.
“But look, it means that I’m answering questions that no other camper’s asked me before, and I don’t know how I feel about that…unpredictability,” he explained, staring out at the lake. “Plus with day after’s capture the flag and with my training schedule being booked up back to back, I cannot handle those questions because they need time to be thought over and I don’t have that kind of time,”
Your hands in his hair paused as an amused tone came with your words, “…is Luke Castellan admitting to me, Y/n L/n, that he’s stressed? You stressed, baby, is that it?”
He laughed at the way you talked, like he was a child, with that sweet tone, higher pitch, and general air of playfulness.
“No, I’m not,” he protested, looking up at you, a small smile dancing on his lips as he laughed softly.
Gods, his laugh was everything. You enjoyed the rise and fall of it, his deep voice vibrating through your body with how close he was. It wasn’t explosive, nor was it polite. It was just him being a kid, him being himself, unrestrained by the image of a calm and reserved counselor that he had on most of the time.
“That’s a lie,” you smirked, giggling softly, tilting his head back so he could look at you properly.
He smiled a bit, as your finger traced up the line of his scar, and he stuck his tongue out at you jokingly.
“Fine, tell me more. Get it all of your chest,” you winked, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly.
So he talked all his worries away, till the moon rose high and the water stopped rippling. He talked till his throat ran dry and his eyes started to droop as sleep’s staying caress enveloped you both.
“We should get back,” you yawned, feeling him sit up and out of your arms.
He nodded, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Yeah, we should…”
He, as a gentleman, stood up first and helped you up, smiling at you as you dusted yourself off and followed him back through the quiet woods and to the cabins. You looped your hand through the crook of his elbow, resting your head against his shoulder affectionately every now and then, smiling up at him.
The trees weren’t as quiet as the night, nor was the grass, as the crickets chirped softly amidst the foliage, and the leaves rustled with the slightest bit of wind that danced through them.
“Can I bother you for a little kiss before we go back to our cabins?” You asked, standing in front of him at the split in the road which led to the Apollo cabin and Hermes cabin.
Luke thought about it for a moment just to tease you, earning a whack on the arm from your end and a laugh.
“Obviously,” he chuckled, pulling you closer by your wrist, his other arm coming up to encircle your waist, as your head tilted up for your lips to meet his in a soft kiss.
His hand left your wrist to cup your cheek while your arms rested around his neck, holding him such that he stayed down a bit to your level. Your lips moved in sync, the action already a habit with the number of times you both had kissed in the past two years of you both dating.
Despite that, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the way his lips felt against yours, the way he held you so tenderly.
Once air became a problem you both had to pull away, and a light blush dusted your cheeks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” you smiled, winking at him.
“No doubt, sunshine,” he smiled back, ruffling your hair gently, earning a sound of protest from your end as well.
“You know I hate that nickname,”
“Too bad, sunshine,”
All you could do was roll your eyes and press a soft kiss to his cheek before turning back and heading back to the Apollo cabin on soft cat feet, making little noise as you fell into your covers, giggling softly at the ghost feeling of his lips back on yours.
Stuff was better when he was with you.
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Hi! I t’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3 the ending is a bit eh but otherwise I hope you liked it <3
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tremendum · 4 months
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Setting the Mood ; Mr. Miller vii
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[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 10k summary:  ❝Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.❞ warnings: power outage, one mention of cobwebs lol, smut - oral (f!receiving), nipple play, teasing, overstimulation, anal fingering (brief sorry), face sitting, pussy slapping!!!, tit slapping (once), begging, choking (light), fingering, rough sex, praise, dacryphilia, degradation, threats of using sex toys, Joel is less mean than normal, pussy drunk Joel!, squirting, brief mentions of guns/canon typical trauma and violence. also fairly fluffy. emotionally constipated joel and reader <3 notes: thank u all for ur patience & here's the next part! and Joel is a MUNCHHH in this one lol. special thanks to the anon who recently sent me such kind words about this series, as well as the other anon who gave me the inspiration & all the suggestions for this fic!!! this one's for u guys <3 [this is part seven of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]
[important - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★  
"'s gettin' dark out there." Joel broods, eyebrow furrowed as he stares out the window into the dreary wink of evening, a dark gray clouding the sky as sheets of rain slam onto the pavement and pelt onto the gardens lining the block. "stormy." 
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you can't help but quirk your brow as you take in his worried form, the way he peels back the curtains like a wartime wife awaiting a letter or a figure appearing in the driveway. you have to fight back a laugh, instead putting on a straight face as you lean towards him, capturing his gaze. 
"she's handled worse." is all you say, giving him a shrug - one that's met with a glare. "I know." he retorts, voice soured; a clench of a jaw before he turns back out, brooding, sighing, gritting his teeth. okay then. 
you shift yourself, plopping heavily onto the couch - you're still not used to being in this house, even in its simple glory. Joel's boots, muddy by the door, Ellie's drawings littering the walls like little trophies Joel silently boasts about - none of them have frames, though you decide in a better world, they probably would. empty mugs of half-drank coffee on the counter next to the sink, a discarded hand knife on the dining table. 
it's almost a complete mirror of your current house - with a tickling thrill, you'd realized this faintly the first time Joel'd thrown you onto the ground in his foyer months ago. he's since grown gentler with the way he handles you, at least, when he wants to. 
even now - his tolerance, vastly expansive compared to months ago when a breath in his direction would cause a snarl within a second. now, he even initiates conversations - not often, but enough for you to feel like, at some point, things did change with him. Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms. 
you don't particularly mind, either - Ellie and Dina have been helping you with the winter garden greenhouses a lot, and even Joel has stopped by on his way back from patrols to check in, lingering with glares or stares depending on his mood. he even came over to help you try and fix your porch steps leading to the backyard - free of charge, though you sent him home with some of the biscuits you'd made earlier that day. 
you still get on each other's nerves - snide remarks, passes at the other's intelligence or capability. Joel criticizes you nearly every chance he gets, but you've come to decide it's a defense mechanism and not entirely in his full control. you, similarly, tease him every moment you can for his dramatics, but suddenly clam up and scamper away at any semblance of feelings or emotion. he always lets you come back though, without any mention of it. 
"are you seriously worried about her?" you ask, sighing gently. you see the uptick in his brow when he looks at you, but you quickly follow up - "because we can go find her." you add, softer.
his jaw loosens slightly and he sighs heavy. "no, 's fine. I know she's at Dina's. just bein' dramatic." 
you shoot him a look with your brows raised - no shit, Joel - but the withering look he gives you shuts your trap before you can go and run your mouth.
so you let him relax in his own way - pacing in near silence for several minutes before he stops, makes an internal decision to pour you and him each a finger of some amber whisky, and then drains it all in one go. you opt to sip yours.
the wind is what has you in a disturbed state - it howls louder in the basin of this valley than it ever has before in your life; screaming down the streets, blowing through the rush of firs that line the outskirts of downtown. and now, it uses its immense force to slam weeping drops of precipitation into the gardens hard enough to form bits of cold hail - a threat which, had it not been twenty years into the end of humanity, would likely still put gardeners to their beds with a curse to Demeter. 
but now, circumstances are a bit more dire. losing crops, especially at this time of year, could be fatal. 
"y'done with that?" his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up to see him standing above where you perch on the couch, gesturing to the towel in your lap. you blink, nodding, "-oh. yes, I am, thanks." 
you use one last handful to scrunch up your wet hair, handing him the towel expectantly - but he stays rooted just in front of you, eyes staring unblinkingly at you. a sense of warmth floods through you, starting in your face and spreading over your chest and abdomen. his eyes are softer than they usually are; you lift a brow, his dark gaze unmoving. "something on my face, Miller?" you ask, lifting a brow. it's snappy - you don't necessarily intend it to be, but you can never tell with him. 
he blinks, grabbing the towel from your hands which he'd provided for you when you'd arrived, sending you a grave look. "don't you start with me." he snaps back, turning to walk off towards the laundry room. the room, you think with foolish butterflies, where your jacket hangs up with its orange, janky stitching over the right side to dry. in some ways, a mark of Joel Miller. you smile down to yourself, staring at the spot he'd just stood. 
you swallow your thoughts. you were here for a reason - not to get distracted, but to make a cake for Ellie. Joel had asked you a few days ago to help him bake a cake - for no apparent reason, you don't think her birthday is anytime soon - you'd agreed because, aside from the fact that there's little you wouldn't do for the girl, you haven't baked one in a long time and the lavender you'd grown last summer and dried is begging to be used in a cake batter.
"we need to get started soon!" you call out, shifting slightly to try and find his concealed body somewhere in the house. a faint call of his gruff voice responds to you, but you can barely hear through the onslaught of rain outside; suddenly, and with a careless flicker, the lights all shut off. 
the whirring of heating stops, too, until everything is dark and silent.
you stare with shock, blinking in the dark - the house is silhouetted by the darkening sky, plagued already by thunderclouds. fuck. 
"Joel?" you call out, rising on your feet to find him - you remember him mentioning in one of the first rounds of patrol with him - before anything, back when he really was just Tommy's brother - that he'd been some sort of handyman pre-apocalypse and so how the fuck has he just tripped the fusebox- 
you feel him before you see him, unfortunately. 
Joel, for all the time you've spent intimately knowing what his body feels like, shocks you every time by his sheer strength, the size of his shoulders and the broadness of his chest - especially when you slam into him in the dark. 
"fuck," you both chorus at the same time, you stumbling back and him likely rubbing his shoulder. you groan as you hit a thumbtack stuck in the wall with your head, rubbing the spot sorely in the dark. 
"the power's out." he states, irritation laced through his words. you roll your eyes, knowing it's unlikely he'll even see them in this light anyways.
"hadn't noticed."
your voice is flat and the silence that follows turns your face hot, taking a breath as you rock on your heels. "well I didn't do it." he states obviously, causing your brow to lift slightly until you look out to see through the muggy windows against the downpour that the whole block is out of power. damn weather. 
"found a flashlight." he clicks it on, the light faint and dying as he brushes a few cobwebs from his hand - you realize the flashlight must have been from before the outbreak, with the original owners. but then the light is illuminating in your face; your eyes squint and you bat it away from you with a hiss, glaring at the man in front of you. 
"what are you, a vampire?" he's holding in a laugh, you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, "you tried to blind me, that was a perfectly acceptable reaction. besides, I'm sure the batteries in that thing are a second away from corroding. don't put that near me." 
he sighs, setting it beside him on some half-wall and you cross your arms. "suppose a guy like you probably doesn't have many candles, do you?" you ask, rocking on the balls of your feet - you really don't wish to spend the evening alone in your freezing house - nor in one that is completely dark. 
"do I seem like I'd have any candles?" he asks, equally as exasperated as you. you let out a frustrated groan, leaning against a wall and jumping when you poke your hip into a table you hadn't expected to be there. you ruminate for less than a second before perking up, gasping in a sharp way that has his hand finding your elbow in alarm.
you ignore the flip of your heart at the gesture, tilting your head instead. "I have some. at mine." you say, shifting on your feet. it looks borderline dangerous to go outside right now - as you look out, it must occur to Joel that he's still holding your elbow because he jerks as if to remove it, but instead slides his hand up to hold your shoulder. it makes your heart skip a beat and you scarcely move a muscle. 
Joel huffs a long-suffered sigh, before nodding. "let me get my boots." 
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getting to your house was less of a disaster than it should have been; Joel had the foresight to stuff a change of clothing into a bag after a brief argument about him not owning any umbrellas ('you don't have a fucking umbrella?' 'well pardon me for not havin' a Wal-Mart to stock up at during a fucking apocalypse.') and had held the lid of a trash bin above your heads as you ran, avoiding as much pelting hail as possible, to your front porch. you knew he was irritated - with the weather, with the fact that Ellie wasn't home, maybe even that you didn't get to make the cake - enough so that he wouldn't even make eye contact with you as you fumbled, fingers frozen and wet, for your key.
to your embarrassment, it's too stuck in the keyhole and your door wouldn't budge. it'd grown sticky and misshapen after the heat and sudden cold of winter, the frame wholly unfit to keep a functioning front door on its hinges.  
"for god's sakes, give me them." he snapped, pushing into the frame and snatching the keychain from you, tinkering until he was able to slam into the doorframe with a grunt and burst it open.
"we needa fix that." he observes, ridding himself of his boots as you slink into the dark house after him, your face hot at his automatic assumption that he would help you fix your doorframe. he hadn't been particularly happy about fixing the steps for you, but he'd done it without being asked.  
once you're rid of your wet coat and boots, you grab Joel's arm in the cold, dark space of your entry way and start to lead the two of you rather quickly up to your bathroom.  "where the hell do you keep these things?" he grumbles until you've fumbles your way into the master bath, feeling around in the dark under the cabinets and avoiding stray screws sticking out near the drainpipes; it occurs to you that perhaps you should saw them off. maybe you could bribe Joel into doing it for you when he comes round to fix the doorframe. 
seconds later you spin, holding up thick candles triumphantly, smirking as you shove three of them into his surprised arms. the lighting in your house is interrupted by the flash of lightning, flickering brightness over the dark porcelain tiles. "good thing we like to share, right Miller?" you smirk, grabbing the rest of the candles, eyeing the Epsom salt in a mason jar in the fading light, mentally noting to use that next time you take a bath.
he grunts at your words and you grin, shrugging. "what's mine is yours, right?" you ask sweetly.
 he gives you a look as you make your way to the main bedroom to grope around for a lighter or matches - you can feel his irritation starting to wane away, slowly trickling like the beginning of a stream. "when did I ever say somethin' like that?" 
you shrug with one shoulder, sending him a dark grin, "well you sure must've thought it that night when you invited yourself in to my bathroom." 
it's quiet aside from the storm - your stomach broils in anticipation, heat and some kind of arousal tickling at your guts. there's nothing you love more than irritating him.
you tilt your head, desperately wanting to add more, but not in the particular mood to start a real fight. 
Joel, at your words, doesn't get mad - instead he just stares on at you, much too silent, brooding.
his eyes swirl seductively, as if reliving that night in his head. you sure are - his stare, the way his eyes had trailed over your body, the soap slipping over your pert tits and just begging him to join you. in your mind, you leave out the blood and the wound from your stomach, the yelling from Joel and... well, everything that happened after that. 
his eyes trail over your body, getting stuck on the curves of your hips and breasts, before meeting you again. when he opens his mouth, the words are not what you'd expected. 
"this is too many candles for one woman to have in her bathroom." he grunts, shooting you a stern look that seems nearly sinister in the dark moonlight. the rain pours relentlessly on the roof and onto the windows, streaks in the reflection sliding down his broad chest. 
bending over to reach the matchbook on your dresser, you toss him a little grin, "never said they were just for me. believe it or not, I tend to enjoy setting the mood." 
his brows raise, setting the candles on the surfaces around him - two on the nightstand, one on the bench at the foot of the bed. you light each of them gently.
"set the mood." his voice is flat, twinging slightly with a hard jealousy that nearly has you floating. 
"that's right." you nod, lighting the candles with a gentle smirk. he hums, crossing his arms as you cross to his side, lighting the candles and avoiding his eyes, suddenly very aware of the central piece of furniture in the room - your bed - and the lack of any chairs or couches. 
"did you bring a lotta men into this room t'set the mood?" he asks suddenly, sending a wave of arousal through you. you hide your smirk as you turn back to him, illuminated by the flicker of candlelight. the implication of his words - did you - like he knows that you're only sleeping with him now. that he likes it that way. 
you nod, "only the nice ones." your voice is nearly a purr; his eyes are dark pools, widening in the abyss of desire that threatens to swallow you both whole. his hands find purchase on your hips as you tilt your head. 
"Ian?" he counters - both of you know the answer - but you don't mind leaning in to that curling, angry monster of jealousy that hides itself as indifference.
"maybe." you retort, leaning closer to him, tilting your head to keep eye contact. "it's always so much better when it seems romantic. they're not as selfish. less rough-" you see his eyes flicker when your hand coming to trail over his broad chest. "let me cum as much as I want." 
of course, this was a fib. there were scarce numbers of people you let into your bed as is - even fewer who ever made you cum at all. Joel surely knows this - but his hands tighten around you all the same. "s'that right?" he asks, head tilting down to stare deep into you. you swallow, nodding with a grin. "it was much more civilized. and they weren't afraid to ask me to drinks or to come have dinner." 
his smirk drops and, for a moment, a pang of guilt hits you; you hadn't meant to bring that up, in fact the prospect of going on a date with Joel scares you more than most things in the world - but he moves on quite quick. 
"how many times?" he says instead, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. your confusion must show on your visage; Joel tilts his head, staring at you sternly, expectantly. "how many times did he make you cum?" 
you blink, trying your best to continue your little white lie, but instead, your voice shakes out, "th-three." you admit. the smirk that curls under his stubble sends a flicker of dread through your gut - he's seeing straight through you.
you've cum three times with only one man - he's standing right in front of you, and he certainly knows it.
but he likes to play the game. so he nods, "okay, baby. three. I can beat three." he says simply, thumbs starting to rub slow circles into the skin exposed above your waistband. your cheeks heat, "wh-what?" you ask dumbly, watching the twitch of a grin that flickers across his skin in the dewy glow of the candlelight. 
he shrugs, "been dreamin' about tasting that pretty little cunt all week." 
your eyes widen - a hot coil of arousal swirls in your core as you stare up at him, wishing you'd swigged that whisky that lies over at Joel's in the dark like he had, if only for the courage. 
because mutely, you've realized this is the first time anything has been initiated between you without an argument - and by Joel, nonetheless. he seems almost bashful when you look back at him.
"why'd you wait this long, then?" you ask, trying to sound coy but instead sounding very aroused, out of breath. 
he lifts a coy brow. "waitin' for you to set the mood, I guess." 
you stare at him for a moment.
his eyes flicker in some foreign kind of shyness, and then it occurs to you; you nearly burst out in laughter. "-was that a joke?" 
your heart skips a beat when Joel lets out a small smile.
it's warm, syrupy - full of light. you nearly forget why you're laughing. "maybe. don't matter." 
he seems so soft, so shy - as if embarrassed that he's admitting how bad he's wanted you all week. like you haven't been the same way.
but you can't seem to let it go - "a joke, from crabby old Mr. Miller?" 
but you knew it'd come, using his name like that.
his hand is strong when he grabs your jaw, gentle but stern, and fighting his own smile - the smile lines around his eyes glowing and beautiful. you wish you got to see them more. 
"doll, I thought we've talked about bein' respectful." he lifts a brow and you nod, swallowing your laughs quickly as his hand squeezes on your cheeks. "now, we've made it look real nice in here, haven't we?" 
you take a moment before realizing he's waiting for an answer - you stand taller, nodding, "yes, sir." you agree, fighting the growing heat within you. 
he nods, "'s right. so I'll treat you real nice, just like the boys you talk about." he sneers, weakening your knees. he moves you both slowly toward the mattress, tilting his head, "do you want that?" 
does he even have to ask?
"yes, please, I want it." you agree, the desire to have him between your thighs growing unbearable. "we need'ya to come three times. you're going to count for me, aren't you?" 
you wish more than anything you could defy such saccharine, sweet condescension from the man in front of you - but you've always been weak for him and his cruel mouth. you nod, staring up at his dark eyes, letting him push you onto the mattress gently. you faintly wish you'd taken the time to make your bead neatly this morning - but the thought is pulled from you as you note Joel's sudden hesitation. you tilt your head, about to ask if he's okay, when he abruptly speaks. 
"you're so fuckin' pretty, darlin'." he says suddenly, looking at you with that exact stare from earlier on his couch; your heart flips as you stare up at him, swallowing. his hands come to your shoulders, moving until he's standing flush against the edge of the mattress, your thighs spread open for him to caress your neck gently. your heart pounds at the stark honesty of his words. 
"beautiful." he whispers, feather-light touches over your neck, your chest shuddering and breaths short, staring in silence. "d'you know that?" 
he's being uncharacteristically soft, and an inkling in your mind wonders if it's all a show - never would Joel Miller willingly be kind in such a manner. so giving, so... loving. 
that panic that often finds you in the more tender moments flares up. you swallow thickly, "are you gonna get to it, or just stand there and stare at me?" you snap, the panic rising at his words. 
his slow movements upon you stop, his eyes meeting yours sharply. something changes in him, a shift that is foreign and also familiar; as if snapping out of some trance and back into his original state.
"I'll do whatever the hell I want to." he snaps, "and you're gonna take it because I'm choosing to be nice to you." his voice is unforgiving - the cold tone with which you're used to. where you're safe, unafraid of what lies beneath tender caresses or words. "you hear me?" 
you swallow down heat, a pool leaking into your panties - you're unsure if it's the way he was softly caressing you or the roughness of his words - probably both. "yes, Joel." 
he lifts a brow, correcting you. "sir." 
you swallow, nodding. "yes, sir." he leans over, kissing the crown of your head gently. "that's good. now I don't want to hear another fucking word out of you unless you're counting for me." he stares down out you, skin glowing under the scruff of his facial hair light up by the glow of the candles. he nods at your silence, a small smirk. "always liked you better when you're fucked so stupid you can't get a word out, anyways." 
you don't dare speak, but you shoot him a withering glare, one that has him chuckling. "y'always act like such a brat, but you always end up doing what I tell you, don't you?" 
you stare at him, your heartbeat in your throat, sat below him with your neck craned up. he raises his brows, hand coming to caress your jaw, "yeah, you do." he nods, "pussy can't get enough, huh?" 
he's speaking in rhetorical, but you still want to slap him across the cheek.
you press your thighs closer but any kind of relief is prevented by his own legs as he stands between them. he leans forward, then, one hand pushing your jaw back until you're forced to look up to the ceiling; his other, snaking around your hips to thumb at the hem of your top. 
his breath is hot as it hits your earlobe. "s'okay, I can't get enough of this pussy, either." he whispers, teeth nipping at your soft skin.
you sharply exhale as his hands tug on your top, releasing the looser buttons until it's held by only two of them, near your collarbones. he hums lowly, fingers rising to undo them himself. your skin is a wasteland of goosebumps, anxiously waiting for his touch. 
he groans when you let the top slide off of you, your bare chest glowing alight by the candles. his eyes swallow you whole, amiring every part of you; your face burns warm, even as his hand trails one light finger down, over the swell of your left breast and brushing against your perked nipple. 
"knew you weren't wearin' a bra." he grunts, his teeth scraping over your throat, "saw it the moment y'walked through my door. sat all pretty on my couch, teasin' me in this top." he growls, hands sliding over your shoulders to grope at your breasts. 
you let out a sudden sigh - you hadn't noticed the baited breath that'd been held in your lungs the moment Joel'd pushed you onto the bed - you feel about to burst with need, your eyes pleading up at him. "sounds like you were just lookin' for it." you snap, eyes narrowing as you grow unwilling to play such games with Joel. 
he wastes no precious moment; the smack is delivered light and playful to your right breast, stinging in pleasure as you gasp in a breath. his hand soothes over it even as he sneers in your face, leaning into your space, "did I tell you you could speak?" 
you glare defiantly, "I thought we'd established by now that you always let me get what I want. you might even want it more than I do." 
his hand finds its old home against your throat; holding you towards him, not restricting your airway but claiming you anyways. you feel another gush of arousal at the move, his eyes glaring into you. "oh, you'll get what you want, sweetheart." he says, voice holding no kindness, but an ominous amount of sincerity. "gonna be real nice to ya. all you're gonna do is sit here and look pretty. can you count to three?" he asks, voice rude. you glare back at him, "obviously." 
he smirks, "we'll see." 
and then he starts. 
you aren't sure what you expected, but Joel wasn't lying when he said he was going to treat you nice. caresses over your skin, growing clammier by the minute- his clothes, still on and still wet from the downpour, sticking to his broad shoulders and expanse of his chest. his lips pepper over your neck, your jawline, teasing the corners of your mouth and releasing a cacophony of butterflies before dipping back down to your chest. 
his hands are so large, gentle and intentional as they slide over the warmth of your skin. "pretty girl." he mutters, leaning so that one knee corners you, pushing you backwards until you're laying back on the mattress. you shutter a gasp as his thumbs and forefingers find your nipples, thumbing over them and sending currents of pleasure through you. 
your whimpers and soft gasps are swallowed up by the sound of the storm against the roof, the cold house warming up by the second. he watches with lidded eyelids as his fingers twist your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from you, pleasure blossoming through your body. you squirm, but he soon grows impatient, standing back and grabbing onto your ankles, tugging you towards the edge of the bed. 
"keepin' all these slutty candles around, huh? how long you've been wanting to use these with me?" he asks gently, his fingers fumbling with your waistband. you help him, shoving them down your legs along with your panties, tossing them to his left. 
"the candles aren't the ones that are slutty." you gasp as he pulls you closer to his hips, lifting you slightly of the mattress. his hard cock, separated from your yearning cunt by his denim, presses deliciously into you. he actually laughs at this; a shake of his head and a flutter of his eyelashes. "y'got that right." 
he doesn't tease you like you'd expected - no, instead one finger circles your slit, gathering the sopping slick that leaks from you before gently sliding into your desperate heat. 
you mewl loudly, eyes scrunching shut in pleasure. his finger is thick, warm; curling slightly as he slowly thrusts it into you. he hums lowly, one hand lowering you to the mattress then sliding up your skin to palm at your tits - they're stained with a few lovebites, brazen and still lined with excess of Joel's spit. it makes you shiver in pleasure. "that's it, baby." he growls lowly, "tight, real tight for me." sweat lines your brow as a low coil grows in your abdomen. 
you nearly speak out of sheer habit several times, jolting when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, hand flying to his hair and holding tight; he groans at that, deep and sweet. your eyes fall to his bulge and your hands move to palm him eagerly; he hisses in pleasure but the fingers not inside you catch your hands.
"not right now, sweetheart. not gon' be selfish, right? 's all about you." 
when he adds a second finger, you're already squirming, regretting your doubt that he'd tease you. he's excruciatingly slow, gentle - his hand slides up to hold you by the throat, pushing you against your mattress as he starts to curl his fingers, thrusting harder. 
you moan deeply as he finds your spot; your clit aches, neglected and throbbing, and your hand almost moves to relieve yourself before you second guess yourself and remain with your hands on his bicep.
you sigh, eyes rolling back as he fucks his fingers into you, wishing more than anything that his mouth was on you. or his cock in you.
his hand is a steady warmth against your throat and you know he can likely feel all the failed words and moans as they die out in your throat. he grins, fucking you steady with two fingers, "is there somethin' you wanna say, baby?" he asks, feigning genuine concern. 
you groan out in frustration, that hot simmer growing as pleasure streaks through you. you glare at him, surely an amusing sight with the tears of frustration in your eyes. he tuts, pouting lightly. "c'mon, you can say it." 
you swallow thickly at his permission, his hand peeling away from your throat momentarily to caress your jawline with his thumb. "use- use your mouth. please," you gasp, desperate as you move your hips against his fingers. he hums, "what, y'can't cum like this?" he asks, his fingers starting to pick up their pace. you grip his forearm and neck, gasping as your back arches from the mattress. 
his fingers drag over your slick channels, the noise of your pleasure echoing as you nod, face crumpling in ecstasy. "fuck," you whimper, tugging on the nape of his neck. 
he smiles, a dark thing in the dim light. "bet you can. let's see it, sweetheart." 
you groan as the pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit; explosions of light appear behind your eyelids as he adds a third finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your sensitive bud. 
his hand leaves your throat to press against your stomach; "y'feel that, darlin'?"
the pressure nearly pushes you over the edge, your thighs shaking as you grab for the bedsheets, hands leaving Joel in the shock of your nearing orgasm.
the noises echo in your ears as his pace picks up impressively; your knees shake as they start to close, your muscles seizing in pleasure. your whine is higher than normal as you squeeze around his fingers, white hot pleasure spreading. 
you cum with your head tossed back, legs closing tightly as one of his hands tries to pry them open, fingers fucking you through your high.
you pulse, riding your high with stuttered breaths, fingers twisted into the sheets as he pumps his own into you languidly. 
you remember wryly what Joel had asked of you, and you croak through a dry throat, "o-one."
you feel a huff of breath against your cheek before he hums. "that's good, baby." he murmurs, watching your cunt twitch, your arousal leaking out of you around his fingers.
you moan lowly as his fingers leave you, rising to his own lips to taste you; his eyes stay on yours as he palms himself lightly. you eagerly swallow, shifting your hips towards where he stands. yes, you need him in you-
he shakes his head at you as throws your legs away from him - you watch in shock as he starts to move. he pulls himself onto the mattress, laying upon your pillows, looking at you expectantly. "c'mere, baby." he mutters.
you blink at him, seeing his expression and slowly crawling to straddle him. your clit bumps against the denim of his crotch as you slowly rolls your hips over his, his straining cock delicious against you. 
his hands find your hips and force your movements to halt with a strong grip. you stare at him, feeling embarrassed and confused, unsure what he wants. 
he shoots you a look when you try to press yourself against him again, his fingers digging into your hips- "if y'think I'm fucking you tonight, you've clearly misunderstood."
your face must drain of blood as you stare at him, heartbeat pounding in your chest as you squirm. he moves down slightly, nodding upwards towards the top of your bedframe. "c'mere. and hold onto the edge if you can't handle it." 
with a shaky breath and butterflies in your chest, you let him guide you upwards, until you're hovering over his face. 
you let out a breath of desire, already throbbing in need; he stares up at you, "thought you needed my mouth on you?" he sneers. "play with your tits, baby, and ride my face." your fingers rise to your breasts, teasing your nipples gently as you whimper. 
"now." he growls, hands pulling your hips down onto his face.
you gasp in shock, forehead and hands hitting the wall behind the bedframe as you jolt to stare at him. his tongue drives a fat lick through your soaked cunt, tasting your spend as your hips buck. your clit brushes against his nose- fuck, his nose; strong and slanted, beautiful as you press against it once again. pleasure shoots through you, curling your toes as you press against him. 
all you can feel is Joel - your hands return to your breasts, if anything so that you have something to hold on to as ecstasy courses through you. his tongue circles your entrance lightly before sliding into you. you groan out, head falling back as you grind against his face; his groan reverberates in your cunt as a jolt of satisfaction causes your legs to weaken. "feels so good," you whimper, breathlessly; you don't even care that Joel told you not to speak, all you can think of is his tongue on you. the heat of your second crest starts to bubble over already; you let out a long moan. 
you feel one of his thick fingers slide over the globe of you ass, gathering your slick before prodding gently at the tight ring of muscle below your cunt.
you gasp in shock, desire flooding you as need spurs you on, "fuck- please, sir, yes." you gasp, hoping the honorific will inspire him to give you what you really want.
he does. his finger breaches your hole slowly as you keen forward, gripping onto the headboard. he moans into your pussy as gushes of pleasure gather from the sensation and you whimper lowly, the feeling of his nose against your clit mixing deliciously as he slides his finger deeper into your ass.
if there's a better thing than having Joel's mouth on your cunt, it's that he can't speak like this; you start to move your hips, riding over his nose and fucking back onto his digit as he groans lowly.
"fuck- fuck." you groan, legs quivering, threatening to give out. he hums, leaning to chase your pussy as you move up, starting to move his finger inside your tight channel, his eyes staring up at you; you lock eyes as you thumb a nipple and your eyes roll back at the wide-blown pupils that meet you. 
his hands, large and strong, pull you back against him, cementing you as he laps at your pussy, fucking his finger into you quicker and bringing you so close to your orgasm that you fall back slightly; your hand stabilizes yourself on his clothed chest; rolling your hips, the new angle sets your cunt into a wild frenzy of clenching, feeling incredibly close and chest stuttering as you near your high. 
his finger leaves you suddenly as he pulls you towards him again - you barely have time to whimper at the loss of feeling before his tongue is flicking over your clit again, sending streaks of hot pleasure through you.
he's delving into you once again, his nose rubbing against you, your hips sliding over his face and finally pushing you over the edge. 
your yelp of pleasure tails into a moan as you roll your hips, cumming on his face as you ride it out once again, legs shaking impossibly. you're muttering swears mixed in with his name as you ride out your second orgasm, shaking in desire.
"two," you whimper, sweat breaking on your forehead as one of his hands slides over your thigh, raking blunt nails over your skin. but he continues, your cunt sensitive as you jolt away from him as you catch your breath; you slide off of his chest to the mattress, your whole body tremoring with pleasure.
his face is flushed, chin glistening with your juices as he sits up, muttering, "don't you move." 
you stop your movements, staring with hot cheeks and a swollen cunt as he turns, hands finding one of your pillows. 
he leans forward to prop your head upon it; you gape at him in confusion, still pleased at the relief of strain in your neck but knowing you'll cum one more time before he's satisfied.
your body already yearns for it - you realize with a hot flash of arousal his intentions as he slinks backwards then, sliding to his knees. 
your legs, despite yourself, spread for him. he smirks, "look at you, sweetheart, so willing for me."
you bite your lip, "just make me cum again," you say breathlessly, finding your strength again. 
he raises his brows, "you sure you can handle it?" he asks, his palm sliding to cup your puffy cunt, the stimulation making you gasp. and then he slaps you, landing a harsh pressure on your clit that has you yelping, knees closing.
his other hand parts your legs, smacking you repeatedly until you yelp out, "yes!" 
he stops his ministrations, instead rubbing your mess of juices all around you, causing you to sigh a gentle moan. he presses a kiss to your inner knee as he hums. 
"I want eyes on me, sweetheart. can you do that?" 
your eyes flick down to him as he settles between your quivering legs with a grin. a gentle kiss above your mound that has your eyes fluttering. "yes," you say breathlessly. 
he rewards you with his lips against your cunt once again; it's immediately sending you over in stimulation, your legs tightening around his head before you gasp at the feeling, his tongue flattening over your swollen clit and plunging again into your entrance. 
it's not long - your body is buzzing with electric desire, throbbing and jolting every time Joel's hands spread your legs open wider; your ankles curl and press into his back as his tongue alternates between flicking your clit and stroking as far into you as he can.
he's groaning into you, using his fingers to spread you further open for him; eating you out like it's his favorite meal. you're not sure if you'll stay conscious after your next high - you feel it creeping towards you and you whimper to Joel, starting to feel too sensitive. 
"Joel- it's-" you whimper, pulling back and starting to crawl away on your hands, your legs tremoring with pleasure, moving up the mattress. he growls, hands grabbing you and pulling you back to him.
"not done with you yet." he murmurs, lips attaching back to your cunt. you buck your hips at the pleasure of overstimulation, hips moving away. 
his hand grabs your ass, pulling you once again towards him, "stop fuckin' squirming. thought you wanted to get to three." 
"I do," you whimper, gasping as his tongue traces around your pussy lips, tasting you and groaning into you. his face glistens with your juices and it's everything you can do to keep staring at him; he glares at you, "then don't complain." 
his tongue licks a stripe up you again, swirling and sucking on your clit, and within moments you're nearing your high.
then suddenly everything - your fingers twist painfully as your body goes rigid, hitting your orgasm with a scream, your legs shutting around him and muscles spasming.
"that's right, sweetheart, ride it out." he mutters into you as you shutter, unable to form words but babbling his name incessantly as you push yourself up the mattress, away from the stimulation again as pain and pleasure swirl around your body.
fuck, you almost- you felt something different about that last one. he pulls himself until he's leaning over you, "think you're forgetting somethin'." he teases, his hands running up until they palm your tits.
you groan, hands shaking as they push against the mattress, the warmth of his body delicious. your eyes are fluttered shut, "two." you realize your miscalculation as it leaves your mouth -"n-no-" your eyes widen at your slip-up and you shake your head, embarrassed; your mind too consumed by Joel to fully function.
you wish he would just fuck you - his cock is unbelievably hard straining against his jeans and you urge to take him in any way you can. you'd let him have anything. 
Joel sneers at you, amused by your flustered state. "d'they teach kids to count in these fuckin' FEDRA schools anymore?" he growls, slapping your pussy once more and making you yelp.
if you'd been paying more attention to his words, you'd have snarled that you learned how to count in public school, before the outbreak - and that he's a fucking idiot; you can't, however, as you're slapped on your sensitive clit once again.
fuck - a streak of euphoria through you at the jolt has your back arching. 
"shut up, Joel." you whimper, "can you just- please, can you fuck me?" you ask, brows knitting together. he sighs, pulling back to stare at you with a stern stare. "just a little bit?" you beg, a ravenous force spurring in your blood. you need him.
"god damn it." he snaps, "I'm bein' so good to you, and all you can do is bitch and moan about my cock. got you so fuckin' obsessed, don't I?"
you groan in frustration, half of your body screaming to let yourself rest and half of you searing with desire and frustration. his words fluster you; even more so as he leans forward, hand spreading you apart to roll his clothed hips against your bare ones gently.
you let out a mewl, hips jerking back at the directness of the denim on your clit, the sharp sensitivity hitching in your throat. you ache and clench around nothing, your cunt begging to be filled by him. "please, Joel. I'll do anything." you insist smally, eyes fluttering shut. his lips ghost over your hairline and then peck your cheek in a shocking show of kindness. 
"you can take it?" he murmurs against your lips. hope sparks in your heart and your bare ankles wrap around his his, pressing him against you, "yes, yes." you promise, nodding eagerly. he hums in thought.
"I'll fuck you with my fingers, then." 
you gasp, hips jolting when his fingers spread your sopping lips, his eyes intent on your face as he circles your entrance. the tip of a finger notches against you and you flutter around him; your hands grasp onto his forearm and shoulder, staring up with a gasp. you're aching - you need him, any of him. 
"Jesus, look at'you." he groans, muttering as his head dips to watch your pussy suck his fingers in with ease. he slowly pushes until he's knuckle-deep, groaning, "greedy little thing." 
but his eyes stare and he doesn't move; you take it upon yourself to rock your hips, gasping at the pleasure you find as you take him even deeper.
he looks desperate, with his eyes wide, curls wet, mussed, and peppered on his head. "baby, I've gotta taste you." he grunts, suddenly sliding back down to lay between your legs; you mewl in shock as his mouth attaches to your clit in moments.
his fingers, then, start to thrust. gentle, at first, but you're so stimulated you shake your head, "can't-I can't." you whimper.
he shakes his head, the action notching his nose once again against your clit and sending shots of euphoria through you. you feel numb and on fire, eyes rolling back.
"you can, and you will." he mutters into your pussy, tongue sliding across the sopping plane of you as his fingers pick up their pace; your thighs clench shut around his head and squeeze - you can't help it - and he moans a genuine sound of pleasure at the feeling. 
"you were so ready to when it was my cock. maybe I should use some of your toys you love tellin' strangers at bars about so much." he grunts, "make this little pussy cream even more."
your face burns as your eyes snap to him; a shiver of interest is soon overcome with the knowledge that you couldn't handle that; you glare at his words, anyways. that was one time, to him. when you were drunk. sure, not the best first impression, but- look where it got you. 
you shake your head as you writhe below him, his lips returning to your sensitive mound to suck harshly as his fingers start to pump harder into you. he decides for himself with a hum, pulling away slightly, "no, you taste too fuckin' good. gonna stay here all night." 
you believe him. 
he tears you apart, tongue lapping you up, twisting his fingers, curling them as he slides them into you; the noise of your cunt wetly taking Joel's fingers and mouth make your eyes roll back.
he's everywhere - your fingers twist once again into the bedsheets, your toes curling as all of your muscles tense. 
his fingers leave you suddenly, the feeling leaving you to suck a gasp into your lungs as he trails his hand over the valley of your breasts and into your mouth; you suck your juices off of his fingers eagerly, your mouth falling open in a yelp when he nips gently at your clit. 
you jerk away, knowing you're sharply close to your next orgasm, your body tremoring and tears forming in your eyes.
the overwhelming pleasure is building immensely and you squirm away from him with a gasp hands coming to cover your pussy as it spasms, aching and leaking arousal.
"J-Joel- I can't," you wail. 
he tuts, "c'mon, taste fuckin' amazing. love this little pussy." his arms snake around your hips, dragging you back and smacking your own hands away from your core. you sigh at the gentle swirl of his tongue through your swollen folds, hands carding into his hair and gripping tight. he mutters it quietly, "jus' one more, sweetheart, you can do it." 
you whimper, a tear streaming down your cheek and onto your neck, "I can't, it feels so good, I can't-" you whimper, a direct contradiction to the shaking quiver of your thighs as you roll your hips, savoring the feel of Joel's thick tongue against you. 
he hums lowly at your hip's movements and it makes you scream; the vibration and the nudge of his nose on your clit too much- 
it hits you all at once. 
you can't see anything; your hand flies to the sheets as one hand pushes Joel hard away, euphoria slamming into you harder than you ever have.
you feel the pads of his fingers, swirling over your clit as your hips buck wildly. you're sobbing, a state of bliss you've never felt before. your orgasm lasts much longer than you'd expected, euphoria rolling in waves that keep coming to shore.
when you come to, pussy still clenching in residual flutters, you have to suck in a deep breath.
through your tears, you see Joel's face; the bottom half is soaked in your juices, even the mattress is damp from your high - oh. you didn't know you could do that. 
he presses a kiss to your thigh - you jolt, whimpering lightly. he shushes you, hands finding your hips as you shake, trying to come down from that high. "four." he mutters, smirking as you groan, your head falling back. "fuck." you hiss, throat raw. 
"that wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?" he snarks, still not moving from between your thighs, though you're sure they're dead weight on top of his shoulders. says him.
"fuck you, Joel-" but your words stop short and you gasp, hands flying as you feel Joel's tongue lick up the side of your cunt; "I can't Joel-" you sob, shaking your head, "'s too much."
you're so overstimulated you feel like you're floating -  but after your shock you realize he's avoiding the sensitive areas, gently swirling his tongue in your wetness. tasting you just for the sake of it. he just shushes you once again- "hey, hey," he soothes, hand petting your hip gently, "just tastin' it. gotta clean you up." you shouldn't, but you feel a hot flood of arousal just at his words. your hands relax in his hair as he slowly moves his mouth around you, avoiding your oversensitive clit mercifully. 
"you just rest. did real good, sweetheart. was so fuckin' sexy." you can't rest, though your body slumps and your eyes shut - his tongue runs lazy, thick circles around your pussy, gentle. you can tell - it's not for you, and maybe it never really was; Joel's loving it, and he's not planning on stopping anytime soon. 
and you stay like that - eyes closed, catching your breath and calming your tears, as Joel's hands run soothing shapes over your side and thighs, his mouth not leaving you for a second.
it was minutes, could have been almost an hour, and you slowly fell from your teetering edge of unraveling; instead, a slow burn was once again ignited in your stomach as Joel lapped away at you, eating you out gently and devotedly.
occasionally there was a groan or a moan from him, gentle - or a mutter into you about how good you tasted. you'd move your hips gently when something fluttered deliciously and you chased that feeling, thinking of all Joel's words tonight which have made you flush - and most of them praise. 
he's like a man starved. 
and by the time you start to climb that hill again, your muscles aching but pussy fluttering in desire, you're burning up. you cry again, gently.
he brings you to orgasm a fifth time with a moan into your pussy and your hand gripping his own for dear life.
he laps everything that spills from your weeping cunt as you let out a scream of his name, swallowed by the noise of the outside thunder. you shake and tremor, blissed beyond anything you've felt, tired and spent.
he holds himself to you and you have to twist, crawling away from the devilish mouth that calls your name, his hands gentle as he lets you go; finally having mercy on your destroyed body.
you feel like you're floating, unable to stop shaking. 
it's then that he chooses to strip down to his boxers; you watch him with shock as he does so, unsure if he's going to propose you take his cock now - you don't know if you could.
instead, he drops a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back." 
he's in there long enough for you to deduce that he's decided to take care of himself on his own, in the shower - a decision that disappoints you but also seems very thoughtful. there's that flicker of selflessness you see sometimes in Joel - the things he tries to hide.
you hear the faucet running in the bathroom and when he comes back, there's a washcloth and a cup of water for you.
he doesn't wipe between your legs until you're done shaking - and after, you sit there, your hand curled around his bicep, while he soothes over a few strands of your hair.
"gonna need new candles." you mutter, nodding to where they all sit, dripped down to within an inch, wax splattered atop your table and over the side of the foot chest. 
"I'll get you a million candles 'f you let me taste you like that again." his chest rumbles as he speaks. a flicker of butterflies once again appear in your chest and you shrug, "I know I said I like when it isn't rough..." you trail off, face burning, "-but none of them ever did... any of that. and I really liked that." 
besides, you both knew the moment it left your mouth that your words weren't true - in honesty, Joel has done nothing but rough you up and you always crawl back for more. you wouldn't have it any other way.
he scoffs, "good thing you're mine now." he mutters, "taste like fuckin' heaven. could watch you squirm all day." he drops a kiss to your temple and your eyes bore down at your lap; his words hold a semblance of possessiveness - not unfamiliar to this thing that you have with him, but now much more meaningful to you. why is your heart fluttering so fast, a grin growing on your face? 
he clears his throat after a moment, shifting to sit up. in the process, your arm falls from his and you turn to look at him. 
"do you remember last time I was in here?" he asks suddenly and you have to snort. "was dying of infection, yes I remember." 
he sends you a look. "you were not dyin'. don't be dramatic." he counters, eyes narrowed.
you grin, rolling your eyes, "you were the one who was acting like it was such a big deal." you defend with a shake of your head. he sighs, "well I-" he stops short and it occurs to you that he's having trouble getting words out.
you look into his eyes gently, and he's searching yours. you're not sure what he's looking for. "shit," he mumbles, looking slightly lost - you've seen him like this, before - once. 
"I'm tryin' to be less...mean. when it counts." he says intently, looking at you. "y'know, after we talked, and I..." 
he trails off but you wait patiently for him to find his words.
he finds them eventually. "-well, that time I was here, when I helped you with your bandage..." he stutters his way through it and takes a deep breath. "I said something, that night." he starts again, running his hand over his face.
"you tend to say a lot of things when we're together." you supplement, your heartrate picking up. you're starting to feel your fight or flight kick in. 
he rolls his eyes. "yeah, well. I said... that you were probably hopin' I would want t'make you my girl." oh. yes, you remember that. "-and I said that it was pathetic you'd think that." he says, not looking at you.
you too look away; yes, he's said many cruel things to you - that one, in particular, has haunted you many nights after waking up from dreams of warmth and sunshine and Joel's hand in yours. 
"one of your best lines yet." you say, unsure what else to do. your gut twists in rejection at just the memory - then, it'd been in the heat of an argument and you'd just used it as kindling to fuel your fire, but it has since become a more prevalent proof every time you start to think too much about the what ifs. 
Joel isn't amused by your words. "I'm just saying, if you did ever want somethin' like that - not that you would, but...it wouldn't be pathetic." he finally finishes. "it was a stupid thing to say." he mumbles quickly, still looking away - through the dim glow of the dying candles, you can see the red on his cheeks. 
you feel hot, the implications of his words. he wouldn't mind if you wanted him to be yours. if you wanted to be his. your stomach flips.
grazing your hand over his back, you brush your lips to his shoulder. "you didn't mean it. we say a lot of things we don't mean. both of us." you answer softly, your lips caressing his bare shoulder. you feel the goosebumps under you across his skin at the touch and fight a small smile.
“remember when I tried to hit you?” you ask, thinking back to that disastrous dinner and the delicious aftermath on his foyer floor.
he smirks, finding the courage to look down at you. “think ‘bout it a lot.”
you hit his shoulder playfully, shaking your head with your own wry grin. of course he does.
he looks at you faintly, a hint of a smile flickering over his face. "we've been through a lot of shit together." he murmurs. he eyes the dresser across from you, lit up by a candle; you don't know how, but somehow he pinpoints exactly where you've hidden your gun, in your sock drawer. and he probably knows exactly why it's hidden.
"-don’t get me wrong, I like this thing we got goin’ for us, with the teasing and fighting - but I just want you to know I trust you. and I care about you." he says just as gently, his face flustered. your face heats at his words, a gust of affection blowing through you at his bashfulness.
you smile, leaning in to him; your hands snake around his neck as you gently pull his face to you. he finds more words, "sometimes you're a pain in my ass-" he raises a brow before you can snap back at him- "-but nothing you could do is... pathetic. 'specially not thinking something like that."
his eyes are large and hold none of the desire that they did thirty minutes ago; instead they hold something much deeper, more vulnerable. you don't feel scared by it.
you smile, "I trust you, Joel." his eyes stare into yours unafraid. "thank you. I care about you too."
and you're not ready to say everything else to him - no, not yet, even though your heart's known it for a while and so have you, somewhere in the back of your mind. 
you do want something like that. you want exactly that. 
"-and," he starts, "since this was your idea of something more civilized," he sends you a look through the corner of his eye; you know this isn't the worst of your sins committed with Joel, but you recognize his sentiment with a smirk, thinking back to your earlier words. you hide your growing smile as he adds:
"-maybe we could get drinks sometime." 
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taglist closed - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!]
@elissaaa @satansgoatt @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @silencesscreams @silkiers @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspams @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap  @userpedros @feministfanboi @buckyhoney @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @notsosecretspy @okyeeaaahhhh @thirdoffive @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @cutesyscreenname  @wannab-urs  @soooooyesbutactually-no @redhotkitchen @omlwhatamidoinghere @joelapologist2001 @leeeesahhh @bitchyikes   @bigboiseason123 @furseal1986 @mumma-moonchild @kamcrazy123 @pseudonymist @xyz32   @xlengueterax @suzmagine @sushiwriterhere @yourwinchesterbros @littlesuckyducky @worhols @hearthrooob @thatgingefromtheinternet @grhowls @letterstopedrito @those-late-night-feels @trashmuseum @holeforjoel @charismatic-writer @nervous-plant @sushiumex​  @undrthelights  @tarcinblue​ @fleursdecherise @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @thecasualnope @scarletthefierce
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outsideratheart · 4 months
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You Should Have Told Me (Alexia Putellas x reader)
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Being away from Alexia was never easy. In fact it got harder as time went on. Luckily for you it didn’t happen often, only really when you went back to Australia whether it be for national team camp or to be with family. This time was the latter.
Like always, you and Alexia spoke to each other and found a way for it to work with the time difference. You were getting into bed and tried calling Alexia but she didn’t answer. You thought she might be busy so you text her and wait for a respond only one doesn’t come.
When you wake up the next morning you find the reason for her radio silence. A tweet which makes you feel sick.
Alexia Putellas will undergo arthroscopy surgery on 27th December.
You are filled with worry but you are also mad at your girlfriend. Why on earth were you finding this out in the internet and not by the woman herself.
Despite your mixed emotions you find yourself on a flight back to Barcelona after a length apology to your family. Funnily enough they knew it was coming as soon as they saw the news. They had only met Alexia once but the love you had for her was evident. They saw it on your face every time her name popped up on your phone.
It was the 27th by the time you arrived home or to your other home. Everyone was well aware of your relationship with Alexia so the nurses didn’t question it when you arrived at the hospital asking for her whereabouts.
“Y/N” Alba greets you with a warm hug “Alexia didn’t tell us you were coming”
“Clearly Alexia is going through a not telling people stuff phase”
Alba swallowed deeply. Your annoyance was clear and if that wasn’t a telling sign, you calling her sister by her full name was.
“Y/N I didn’t—“ Eli joins the two of you in the hall but stops talking mid sentence when she sees her youngest daughter shaking her head.
“I wouldn’t mama”
“She is in there” Eli point the door behind her “she didn’t want—“
Again she was cut off, this time by you.
“Don’t fight her battles Eli. She knew what she was doing. Feliz Navidad by way” you kiss both women on the cheek.
The two of them watch you enter Alexia’s room.
“You two need a lesson in manners. You know it’s rude to interrupt people” Eli says to Alba given that you are in the hospital room.
You get a sick sense of deja vu when you enter the room Alexia’s in. The same happened last summer and you stayed by her side for the entire thing. It’s why now didn’t make sense. You looked up the surgery, it was minor. Why didn’t she want you here now but happily had you with her then.
Alexia pays no attention to you when you enter and although she is there physically you can tell her mind is far away.
“I know I’m not your emergency contact but I would of thought being your girlfriend earned me a call or at least a text”
This got her attention. It was a good job she was already at the hospital because the speed in which she turned her head could have given her whiplash.
“Mi amorcito”
“Alexia”
Her faces changed at this. You could almost see her wince at the formalness.
“I deserve that” she knows she did wrong by not telling you. Still, she pats the space next to her hoping that you’ll join her on the bed.
She watches each step you take, you get closer to her but stop at the foot of her bed.
“What? I don’t get a hug? I am in the hospital” she tries to get you to crack a smile but fails miserably.
“Repeat those last 4 words”
“I am in the hospital” she is slightly confused because you clearly heard her.
“We have been through a lot together Alexia. Yesterday you told me everything was fine, the medics had given you a green light and that you were packing for the trip. You lied”
“Y/N I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted —“
“Miss Putellas it’s time” one of her doctors come in.
“Give me a minute” Alexia doesn’t ask, she demands “I’m in the middle of something”
“No. Take her. We’re done here”
At first Alexia panics. What did you mean by we’re done here. It sounded almost like a break up but before you leave you walk over and kiss her temple. It was a small sign that you were not breaking up with her.
Her eyes remain on you as you walk out the door. Her mother steps in her eye line and Alexia recognises the look on her face; she is in trouble.
“You didn’t tell her, idiota!” Alba appears from behind their mother.
“Alba not now”
“No Mija, she’s right. When you wake up you need to fix this. That girl is the best thing to happen to you and you know that you should have told her. Alexia, she is your girlfriend she had a right to now”
“Por Dios! I know I messed up. I thought I was doing the right thing”
Alexia truly did think that. You had been with her to every physio appointment since the champions league game. You hadn’t been back in Australia long when the decision was made for her to get surgery. You had played the most minutes this season so far and for the sake of your own health you needed to rest, to recover.
She wanted you with her and truth is she needed you with her but she sacrificed that solace for you.
The surgery took two hours which is within the predicted time or least that’s what Google told Alexia when she looked it up. She woke up and saw two woman, neither of them the one she wanted to see.
“She left, didn’t she?” Alexia looked defeated as she came to.
“She did” Alba replied with a wicked grin on her face.
“But then she came back” Eli told the whole truth.
Alexia watched as her mum and sister stepped aside revealing you curled up on the chair fast asleep.
“I think the jet lag must have caught up with her. I saw the girl drink three double espressos but even they couldn’t help fight the urge to sleep” Eli explained.
Your girlfriend knew the battle all too well. She saw the way the time difference affected you when you travelled for international camp. Sleep always won in the end.
“Do you think she’ll forgive me?” Alexia asks her mother specifically only to earn a response from her sister.
“Of course she will. Y/N loves you and I’m talking the type of love dad had for mama. I think you’re stupid for not telling her but knowing you, you probably thought you were doing the right thing”
“No, she was being stupid” your raspy voice gained the attention of all three Putellas women.
“I was and I’m sorry”
You and Alexia were given some privacy.
“I am sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to hurt you”
“What did you think would happen? I found out my girlfriend would be having surgery on twitter. Strangers found out the same time as me”
“I wanted you here with me but you needed to be with your family“
“I needed to be with you. I love you and nobody comes above you Ale.”
“But you were supposed to be in Australia. You had plans to spend new year in Sydney. It had been planned all year”
“You’re wrong Alexia. We were supposed to be in Australia. We had plans to spend new year in Sydney. We planned it together. I don’t care where I am as long as I am with you”
“I should have told you”
“Yes, you should have. Are you able to squeeze up? I’ve had enough of being mad at you”
Alexia knows that she’s strong enough to move and does so happily. She would do anything if it meant having you beside her. It came as no surprise that you were the little spoon in the relationship so Alexia naturally holds you close.
“I’m scared Y/N. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had the surgery and I put in the work. I was back and now look at me. I’m back at the beginning again”
“No you’re not. This isn’t like it was before. Your knee is stronger now. I called the physio on my way to the airport and he told me everything. The surgery was only an investigation”
“Would you still loved me if I’m not as good as before? If I never win another balón d’Or?”
“Alexia Putellas Segura, what silly questions those are. I loved you long before you won your first and I will love you long after you hang up your boots. I fell for the person, not the player and you’ll do good to remember that”
Alexia took a moment to take in what you had said. Her greatest fear was that you’d leave her but deep down she knew that wouldn’t happen. Your words only reiterated this.
“Did you return the outfit? Nurse Y/N might be needed again”
You jokingly gasped at her suggestion. When you look up you see that her eyes have darkened slightly. She did love you in that criminally short costume.
“I think I have it somewhere” you cup her cheek and Alexia leans into your touch.
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vroomvroomcircuit · 2 months
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Big Bird and his Cousins
(A/N): Thank you to @mclarengf for telling me about Big Bird getting shrunk and sharing the twitter thread with me
Summary: A small missing information nearly got Max and Lando into a fistfight aka this is my chance to tell more people about Big Birds eight international cousins
Pairings: driver!reader x f1!grid, but especially Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, Checo, Carlos and Zhou got more of a guest appearing
Wordcount: 1.3k
🏎Masterlist🏎
______________________
Most of the drivers have no problem with driving in the rain. But in a downpour straight from the seven pits of hell? That’s something even Max Verstappen says “no” to.
A considerable amount of the grid stays seated in the conference room, where they just got told that qualifying will be delayed by at least several hours. As soon as they were dismissed, (Y/N) sprinted out of the room, uttering something about a small bladder and long meetings and how they clash in the worst way possible.
“Have you seen what they did to Big Bird from Sesame Street? They made him tiny for the past week!” Lando complains loudly to Carlos while scrolling through his twitter feed. But the Spaniard is confused.
“I don’t know who you are talking about, mate.” He thinks for a second. “Oh, do you mean Caponata? They made her small?!” Carlos’ face lights up, remembering the bird fondly. It’s not something you think about every day, isn’t it?
Lando looks at his friend with a befuddled face . “No, you muppet! Big Bird is a yellow bird that is very tall.” Max, who heard the conversation involuntarily, because the Brit speaks passionately loud about this subject, turns towards the other two drivers.
“I don’t know what kind of off brand Sesame Street you two have watched, but the real name of the tall bird is Pino and Pino is pale blue.” His matter-of-fact voice sets something in Lando off. It just doesn’t sit right with him that Max acts almighty and knowledgeable about a topic he read something himself with his own two eyes.
He gets up from his seat, taxing the Dutchman with a belittling up and down look. “If I was you, I would get my eyes checked, because Big Bird is a bright yellow! Watch out for color blindness.” Max also squares up, getting toe to toe with Lando, getting ready to shoot back. “I can show you how good my eyesight is the next time I’ll drive an orange car with the number four off the track.” “It’s papaya!” Lando pulls up the sleeves to his hoodie, getting ready for a fight that goes beyond spoken words.
“No!” Checo intervenes, putting himself between the two drivers. In the meantime the majority of the remaining people in the room put their attention on the, for now verbally, fighting men. “The name of the bird is Abelardo Montoya and the colors are green, red and a bit of pink. Stop arguing about stuff you know nothing about. Also, I’m older. So I'm right.”
His confident statement attracts the arguments from Max and Lando. “You are absolutely wrong!” “Big Bird is not green!” “No, because Pino is a beautiful blue color!” “Shut it, Verstappen, or I’ll show you the way your skin will bruise a beautiful blue!” “Step away, Norris. You are like 12 and build like a stick. You have not the strength to show me anything.”
“Are you sure? Let’s take this outside and I shove a stick up you a-” “What is going on in the house of commence?” (Y/N)’s voice cuts through the noise sharply. The room falls silent for several seconds until everyone tries to explain themselves at the same time.
“Big Bird is yellow!” “No, his name is Pino and he is pale blue!” “No, she is orange and yellow and is called Caponata!” “No, it’s a green bird, you all know nothing!” “Sh, be quiet, Checo!”
(Y/N) sits down on her chair again and waits for them to get finished scrambling to find an excuse to defend their ego. “Did you ask Pierre what Big Bird looks like for him?” She smirks.
Pierre also smiles knowingly, all eyes on him. “We call our Big Bird Toccata and he is white.” Especially Lando tries to defend himself and his Big Bird another time very loudly. But (Y/N) is having none of it. She put her hand over his mouth, muffling his protests while starting an explanation of her own.
“Did you know that Big Bird has eight international cousins? They are part of Sesame Street from other countries all around the world.” While she starts explaining, Lando’s face drops. “While most versions have a yellow bird like the Big Bird Lando references the whole time, they call them different names. In German he is named Bibo, ask Hülkenberg. In the Netherlands, Brazil and France, they got some versions of Big Bird’s cousins. I think in China they changed his name to the literal translation of Big Bird, but he still counts as one of the cousins. They explain it by calling them identical cousins.”
She throws a look to Zhou, who nods in confirmation and adds “His name is Da Niao”. “The cousins also live in Spain, Portugal and Turkey. Did you not know about this? I thought it was common knowledge. It was all over Twitter a couple of years ago. Now I see the threat every now and then again on tiktok with some minecraft gameplay in the background playing.”
Max mulls over the new information. “This explains everything.” Meanwhile Lando is a bit more shocked. “So I nearly got into a fist fight with Max Verstappen, because someone in some writer’s room decided to give Big Bird cousins and never said anything in the show?”
(Y/N) throws him a confused face. “What do you mean you nearly got into a fist fight? Those are muppets from a kids show! How can you pick a fight over muppets in different colors? They are not even real? In what way does this warrant to get physical?”
Well, if you put it like that, it sounds a bit irrational. Maybe silly even. Of course, no one says this outloud, but the faces all around are enough confirmation for the female driver.
“Gosh, that’s childish. But on the topic of Sesame Street: Have you seen the tweets about Big Bird being shrunk? I need justice for Big Bird!” And so a new discussion starts about the sense behind Big Bird being tiny.
A few hours later the track is cleared again after the storm eventually cleared up. Qualifying can finally start.
The interviews after are relaxed in a way no one expected and most of the newer drivers have never experienced before. Maybe it is the collective relief that qualifying is over without any more delays due to the weather or other problems.
“Coming to the last question,” the journalist closes up her post quali interview with (Y/N), “How did you pass the time until today’s session started? Did all the drivers have another Fifa tournament? Or was it Mario Kart this time?”
The female driver laughs a bit about the joke. “Oh no, not this time. I wouldn’t play Fifa with them anyways, I’m too competitive for that and not good enough at this game at the same time. But I’ll keep the Mario Kart idea in my head for the next skyfall rain. But today I was able to educate the boys on some Sesame Street lore, specifically about Big Bird’s eight international cousins.”
The reporter has a bemused face on. “I never heard of them.” “There is a link on the wiki page regarding Big Bird, dedicated to them. It’s amazing and super cute. Look it up!” (Y/N) winks into the camera.
This is the story of how breaking up a close call to a fist fight between two very stubborn drivers led to (Y/N) being a feature on Sesame Street. And how the trend of #justiceforBigBird across many social media platforms became a thing afterwards.
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romantichomicide95 · 3 months
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geto suguru x virgin!reader
summary: reader is gojos virgin step sister. when geto gets her alone he wants to teach her a thing or two.
-> 3kish words. minors dni.
"You know what I like about you?" Geto suddenly spoke up, interrupting the quiet hum of the movie you had been watching together. His voice broke through the silence, drawing your attention away from the screen.
Earlier that day, you had found yourself unexpectedly joining Satoru and Geto for a night in after your best friend got sick and had to cancel your own movie plans. Seeing how sad and dejected you were your step-brother, Satoru, invited you to have a few beers with him and his best friend Geto.
As step-siblings you and Satoru had a pretty close bond. You were only a few months apart and had really only been step-siblings for a few years. So instead of years of fighting, you met as teenagers and over a few years grew to become friends. He had become almost like a true big brother. The only real problem was your crush on his extremely attractive, and extremely charming best friend Suguru Geto. And now, of course as fate would have it, Satoru had gone to bed and left you two all alone.
You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze from the corner of your eye. His face was illuminated by the flickering light of the tv, which cast shadows across his strong jawline and high cheekbones. A smalll but cocky smirk played at the corners of his lips as he leaned back against the couch, his shoulders relaxed.
"Uh- what about me?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies that fluttered ever so annoyingly in your stomach.
“You don't pretend to be someone you're not." He paused for a moment, turning to face you completely. His eyes narrowing and that smirk growing slightly bigger. "I think that's why I've always been attracted to you."
You felt your heart sink into your chest, not in a bad way but in a holy shit is this real kind of way. You swallowed before shakily responding, “You’re… attracted to me?”
"Yeah," replied, "You’re pretty fucking sexy." He said, and as the words left his lips you felt his hand brush softly against your thigh. “Sometimes I think you wear these short skirts just to drive me crazy.” He continued.
Your eyes fell to his hand which was now planted firmly on your thigh than back up to him. His eyes were dark and intense, and you hoped he couldn’t hear the quickening pace of your heart beating in your chest. “I-I just like skirts I guess.”
"Yeah, sure," Geto said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You just like skirts. Right." You couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing you or not but you couldn’t mull over it for long because suddenly he had leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “I'm not going to lie, I've thought about kissing you a million times. Satoru might kill me but, I just thought you should know.”
He pulled back slightly, giving you a chance to respond. At this point he had to know he was teasing you but you didn’t think he really care. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his desire and his loyalty to his best friend.
Geto had always had this aura about him, this darker side. It contrasted the goofy carefree demeanor of your step-brother. But it also excited you, had you dangling on a string at every word that was falling out of those perfect lips of his.
“I-uh…guess I thought about it too.” You finally say, averting his gaze.
"Ha. I knew it, saw the way you looked at me," Geto said, a confident air to his tone. "Well then, why don't we stop thinking about it and just do it?" And with that, he wasted no time and leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine in every sense of the phrase.
As you kissed him back, his tongue slid against your lips seeking access. Your lips parted, and Geto's tongue gently swept inside. As your tongues danced together his hand moved up your thigh, slowly inching towards your center. You gasped into the kiss, as he found what he was looking for. He rubbed soft circles over your panties. And you closed your legs slightly in response.
“Are you a virgin?” Geto asks pulling away from the kiss with another cocky smirk.
You shyly nod. “Y-yeah.”
Geto sucks in a breath and his eyes lit up. In his head he thinks your step-brother, or rather his best friend, might kill him for this…but he can’t help himself. Not when’s he already got a small taste of you, felt the tiny wet spot on your panties that just the slip of his tongue pulled from you. No, he was going for it. He’d deal with the consequences later.
He leaned in close again, giving your lips a quick peck. “Guess I’ll have to be gentle with you then yeah?” He whispered his lips fully connecting with yours again. He made his way across your jaw, down your neck and you thought it was probably the most erotic moment of your life, up until this point of course.
Getos hand moved up your skirt again, slightly pushing the fabric up to give him better access. “I’m gunna touch you first, has anyone ever touched you before?”
“N-no, just myself…” You admit.
“Oh yeah? I’ll make sure you enjoy it don’t worry.” He says and he leans back against the couch. “Take your clothes off for me can you do that?”
“I- I don’t know.” You say, suddenly feeling extremely hot and extremely shy.
“Come on baby, you’re so beautiful. Wanna see how much prettier you are without all that hiding you away.”
“Uhm…Okay.” You say, his words having his desired affect on you. You begin to take off your clothes. First stepping out of your skirt, than pulling your shirt off over your head and discarding it to the side.
“Keep going baby, already look so fucking sexy.” Geto says , his eyes fixated on every curvature of your body. He reaches out to trace his fingers along the fabric of your panties. “So so fucking sexy.” He says leaning back to watch you finish.
You remove your bra, revealing perfect breasts, nipples erect against the cool air. You took a moment to look at Geto whose eyes were fixated on your body, tracing your form hungrily. Finally, you pulled your panties down past your ankles and discarded them away.
You instinctively covered yourself with your arms but without another word Geto grabbed your hand and pulled you back onto the couch. With a gentle nudge, he pushed you backwards. His eyes traced the outline of your breasts, taking in every detail. They were perfect, just like the rest of you. With a smile, he leaned down, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You moaned softly, arching your back slightly. He moved to the other breast, repeating the action. After a few moments, he lifted his head, looking into your eyes. "Do you like that?" he asked.
“Mmmm. Feels g-good.” You reply, biting your lip as he his dips down to suck and nip at your sensitive buds.
“Good, I’m gunna make you feel really good.” His kisses move from your breasts down your stomach and he stops just above your core. His eyes look up at you, dark and intense and he smirks against your skin when he sees the innocent look of pleasure etched across your face. He kisses down your thighs as he swipes a finger across your clit. You let out a gasp at the sensation.
Geto smiles, knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. As he slid a finger inside your tight hole, and then another, he continued his kisses along your thigh. His teeth grazed your skin and you quaked in anticipation as his kisses got closer and closer to your core. “I’m gunna make you cum pretty girl, want you to give it all to me.” He says confidently before his kisses meet your pussy lips. Your hips bucked slightly off the couch as his lips made contact and you shut your eyes focusing on the new pleasure.
He continued to explore your pussy, licking and sucking gently. Each stroke of his tongue brought forth little moans that escaped your lips. Slowly, he moved lower, his tongue delving deeper into your folds, tasting your juices and savoring the sweetness.
His tongue circled your clit, applying gentle pressure as he did so. You couldn’t take much more, your moans began to grow louder and Geto brought a hand up to your mouth, lifting his head momentarily. “Can’t be too loud baby, don’t want Satoru to hear.”
You nod and bit your lip trying to stifle your moans as Geto continued his assault on your clit, alternating between soft circles of his tongue and firm flicks. He could feel her body trembling beneath him, as your free gripped the couch below you. His fingers found his way inside of you again, curling up to massage your sweet spot. Geto groans as he feels you tighten around his fingers, his own body responding to the intense pleasure he's giving you. He continues to lap at your sweet pussy, his tongue flicking against your clit as he brings you to orgasm. You finally come apart beneath him, cumming against his tongue he laps up every last bit.
He comes up to look up at you, before standing up to remove his clothes. He strips himself down to his boxers and you can’t help but admire his broad shoulders and his tight perfectly sculpted abs. "Gunna make me feel good now yeah?”
You nod as he sits back on the couch. “Come here, sit right here…on your knees for me pretty girl.” He spreads his legs a bit and nods his head to the spot on the floor in front of him. You oblige, sitting right on your knees in between his legs.
He reaches down, running a thumb along your cheek. “Take it out. I’ll show you how to touch it.” He says, and you do so, pulling the band of his boxers down and letting his cock spring forward.
Geto's cock was big, and it twitched as he felt your hand wrap around it, his breath hitching in his throat. "That's it," he murmured, his voice rough and hoarse. "Stroke me slowly, baby." He watched as you tentatively moved your hand up and down his shaft, his eyes darkening at the image of you sitting innocent and pretty in front of him.
“Yeah…That's it," he encouraged, “Take your time pretty." He groaned softly, his hips bucking slightly as you continued to stroke him. "Fuck, you see what you do to me? Making me this hard." His words made an unfamiliar heat surge through your body and your brought your hand up to gently rub the tip. "Yeah, like that," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. “Not too fast, it’s a little sensitive at the tip.”
You continue to stroke him, as he guides your movements. “Use your other hand to play with my balls a little. Do it gently.” And you do so, using one hand to stroke him and the other to lightly massage his balls.
Geto's breathing became ragged as you continued to stroke his cock, his hips bucking slightly with each thrust of your hand. His eyes were filled with darkened lust as he watched you kneel before him, his gaze always watching you. "You look so fucking sexy, stroking me like this," he murmured, "I've wanted this for so long." He reached down, gently guiding your head towards his cock. "Take me in your mouth, can you do that?” he whispered, his voice trembling with need. "Make me feel good."
You look up at him, your innocent shy gaze meeting his hungry one. You lean down, giving the tip of his cock a few kitten licks. Truth be told you’re a little intimidated given his size, but you want to do everything in your power to make him feel good. So you finally slowly take him into your mouth.
Getos eyes rolled back in his head as you took him into your mouth, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. "Fuck, yeah," he groaned, “That's it, baby. Use your tongue." He reached down, gently running his fingers through your hair as you began to bob your head up and down his shaft. “Keep going, just like that. Don’t take your eyes off me.”
The sensation of your tongue against his shaft was amazing, and he couldn't help the grunts that escaped him. "So fucking good," he murmured. His voice coming out low and rough. "Gunna make me cum so hard." His cock twitched in your mouth, pre-cum dripping onto your tongue as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He gripped the back of your head, pulling you closer into his lap as he began to thrust his hips up, fucking your mouth. He growls, his eyes locked on yours. "You’re doing so good. Such a good girl, keep going." Geto's cock throbbed in your mouth as you continued to suck him off, his hips bucking wildly. The sensation was overwhelming, and he couldn't help but let out a long, low moan. "Fuck, yeah," he groaned.
He watched you took his cock down your throat, and he couldn’t hold it in much longer. "Fuck…I’m gunna cum…Swallow it all!" His cock twitched one last time in your mouth, and then he let out a long, low moan. His cum suddenly shot out, filling your mouth quickly. It was thick and salty, and you swallowed it all down without hesitation.
Geto pulled out of your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Fuck," he muttered. "That was amazing." He reached down, gently stroking your cheek. "You did so fucking good, can’t believe you’ve never done that." Then, with a soft smile, he leaned in and kissed you gently on the forehead.
“We should go continue this in your bedroom yeah?” He says pulling you up into his lap.
“We can…yeah.” You say grabbing your clothes and leading him to your room. You knew it was probably better for your first time but now that this all was happening so quick the nerves started to flow through you.
Geto followed you into your room. You climbed into your bed, and he joined you. He hovered over you and as your eyes met he gave you a soft smile. He took his finger to your chin to lift it slightly as he looked into your eyes. “Hey. Pretty girl, don’t be nervous, you want to do this right?”
You smiled back and gave him a nod. “Yeah…I do.” You assured him and with that he leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. He let the kiss linger this time, as his hands roamed over your body.
Geto finally broke the kiss, leaning back slightly to look into your eyes. "Ready?" he asked. You nodded. With a grin, he positioned himself between your legs, his cock poised at your entrance. "This might hurt a little bit," he warned, "But I’ll take it slow to minimize the pain." He paused, waiting for you to respond. When you nodded, he slowly pushed forward, his cock sliding into your tight pussy. You gasped, your eyes widening and your nails digging into his back as he entered you slowly.
His lips parted and a low groan escaped him…”Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, “You okay?” You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. Encouraged, he began his thrusts, slowly picking up speed.
He watched your reactions. The sight of you writhing beneath him, drove him admittedly a little wild. He thrust harder, deeper, his rhythm becoming increasingly more urgent.
"Pussy feels so good grippin my cock like that." he groaned, “Startin’ to feel good yeah?”
You nodded, your eyes closed tightly as you tried to focus. Geto grinned, watching your face contort with the pleasure that was slowly overriding the pain. He could tell you were starting to enjoy it which only fueled his need for you. He picked up his pace, his cock sliding in and out of your wet heat faster and faster.
"Want me to fuck you harder?" He asked, his voice low and coarse. You nodded eagerly, your eyes widening with excitement. That was all the encouragement he needed. He grabbed your legs, lifting them up and resting them on his shoulders. The positioning allowing him the tip of his cock to hit your sweet spot repeatedly.
“Pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock.” He says leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss. He bit your bottom lip as he drilled his cock further and further into your wetness. The sensation drove him a bit mad, the way your pussy gripped him so eagerly. “Love the way my cock is stretching you open huh pretty girl?”
“Mmm. Yes…Feels so good Geto, gunna cum.” You moan out and as if on queue he reaches between you his fingers circling your clit. You can’t control yourself much longer and your walls tighten around his cock as you feel orgasm wash over you.
Hearing your cries of pleasure only intensifies his own. He thrust harder, faster, determined to join you in blissful orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum too!" He groaned, his hips bucking against yourswildly.
And then, with one final thrust, he cums, his cock pulsing inside your wet heat as he releases his seed.
Finally, exhausted, he collapses on the bed beside you. "Goddamn, that was incredible." He reachesover, gently caressing your face. "We should keep doing that but uh…keep this between us for now yeah? Satoru’ll be so pissed."
524 notes · View notes
leascorner · 26 days
Text
j.s. | Welcome home
Summary: After a mission, Jake gets some well deserved break at home. However the week might not turn out how he had planned.
Pairing:  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x childhood bff!f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of death and near death experience, mention of break-up, probably inexact american army facts, ever most likely inexact description of Texas, mention of food, two idiots in love, happy ending
Word Count: 9.2k
A/N: I've said it before, I will say it again. The only trope that I can write/read about Jake is a childhood/best friends to lovers, don't fight me. I also see Jake as an older brother to two half-sisters his mother had with a very good man, after his father abandonned them. This is my canon.
Anyway, this is way too long and way too chaotic but I just couldn't stop writting so enjoy!
Masterlist
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Y/N was literally hopping up and down with impatience - or perhaps was it the three cups of coffees she had drunk to be able to keep up with the 2-hour-long drive to the airport in the middle of the night. She was standing on the arrival floors, on her tiptoes, trying to locate the person she was picking up. The flow of travellers coming through the arrival doors was continuous, so many blond heads coming through and none of them was his.
Her childhood best friend’s flight had landed a dozen of minutes prior; 3:28 a.m. was the time she received a “be right there, see you soon” text. Ever since then, the seconds had been going past very - very - slowly and with every second passing, Y/N chest had got narrower from anticipation to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It hadn’t been more than a year and a half now that they had seen each other in the flesh. Of course, there were the texts, the emails and the FaceTime calls, but it was never the same.
“Jake!”
The sea of people in front of them seemed to split in half to let them collide in one another. The said Jake let his bag fall to his feet to catch a flying Y/N, lifting her from the ground as if she weighted nothing. Her hands found the back of his neck and her head found the crook of his neck, reuniting their bodies as if they were only one mind.
“Hey sweetheart,” he sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself from her perfume.
Jake let her down reluctantly when he realized they were in the way of other people reunions. After swinging his bag over his shoulder and dragging her near a row of seats, he finally took a good look at her, dark circles under puffy red eyes and hair all other the place. He dried her tears softly and kissed the top of her head, something he was sure he hadn’t done since they were in high school and that fucker of Chad had broken up her heart - thinking of it now, it seemed like it was a lifetime away. However, he knew that in this moment there was no sadness in her tears. She was crying probably a little happiness to seeing him again, but most certainly a lot of relief to have him alive in front of her.
He took another step back to have an even greater look at her. Y/N was exactly how he last saw her one year or so ago, and exactly how she looked like even all the other times he had to leave. She did not seem to age, and he was sure that the fine smile lines she was now wearing had always been there. It brought comfort to his heart to know that whatever would happen, she would always be waiting for him. He knew it was also selfish, but he had made peace with those thoughts a long time ago. These were moments that he was collecting in his mind for when he was somewhere overseas, fighting for his life.
“My my, did you grow up a few inches?”
“Oh, shut up!” Y/N laughed and tried to nudge him in the ribs. Jake easily grabbed her right elbow to bring her closer in another embrace, so very glad to be home, even only for a little while.
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Ventilation was swinging litters of hot air into the car's cabin as it was a rather chilly night for October in Texas. The full moon was lighting up all the roads in front of them, just as if it was making sure they would get home safely.
During the drive, the main discussion turned around how excited everyone would be to have him there. Y/N and her parents were the only ones to know about Jake’s surprise visit; they had only known for about three days before his flight landed that he unexpectedly got a week of leave. They would surprise his family later that day for lunch - only after they both had a rather long nap to make up for the sleepless night.
Jake had seen his family a couple more times than Y/N this past year and a half. Even if he considered Y/N to be family, this wasn’t exactly the rule of the administration. Blood family had some more privileges, like sometimes visiting for the holidays. His mother and one of his little sisters also visited him in Singapore when he was stationed there for an exercise in the Taiwan Strait; they had booked a vacation to be able to see him there. Y/N, at that time, had been unavailable - she had her own life after all.
It was what Jake found the more difficult; to keep up with her life. Most of her friends were common friends from high school. With her going to a different university and later with her different jobs, some of her friends were total strangers to him. However, they all seemed to come and go into her life, leaving more or less damage.
“I am sorry about you and Nick.”
Y/N finished getting back to the right line of the highway and removing the blinker, before glancing quickly in Jake’s direction. He was looking at her, with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but that she understood as some kind of gladness. She sighed while turning her focus back on the road.
“You can lie better than that, Jake.”
“Well, didn’t like the guy so…”
It had been a couple of months now than her longtime boyfriend Nick and she had broken up. What confused Jake the most was how this was not a topic for discussion. She hadn’t called crying; she did not seem to be angry. She just announced it to him like it was nothing and directly switched subject. He hadn’t found a way to bring it back on the table, so he asked their friends and family. They all had the same answer; she was doing fine. She seemed to have continued her life just like nothing had happened.
“Was it him-”
“It was me,” Y/N cut him off quickly abruptly, leaving Jake with an uneasy feeling. She sighed again, probably realizing how harsh her tone had been. “This wasn’t working out anyway.”
Though she could not see him, Jake nodded back acknowledging her response. He still felt like there were more to it, but he understood that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Ever since they had known each other - and it went back to kindergarten, they hadn’t had many secrets for one another. And if they had, it was never anything major.
So, he shook off this feeling and gently grabbed her hand resting on the gearshift to squeeze it softly.
“I do am sorry, though.”
“I know.”
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It was nearly six in the morning when Y/N pulled up in her parents’ driveway.
The porch light was on, welcoming them, making sure Jake knew he was expected, and it made him smile fondly. It still felt surreal somehow; after everything, he was home. Getting out of the car, he breathed the fresh air of Texas like he hadn’t breathed in years.
Y/N was already opening her trunk, getting out a duffel bag that seemed to contain some clothes for today. Jake jogged toward her before she was able to get his own khaki bag out. She rolled her eyes, smiling, when he gently slapped her hands away to take care of it.
“Mom set up a spare bed in my room,” Y/N informed him while walking to the front door. “Just like the old days.”
And nothing in the house had changed either.
The hallway was still a drive along memories with all sorts of pictures hanged upon the wall. Y/N’s parents wedding portrait. Y/N’s baby pictures. Y/N on the day of the start of her first kindergarten year - just before they met each other. A couple more of first day of school pictures - this time with him in it as well. A couple of family vacation pictures. And along with them, a couple of pictures of events he wasn’t even there to attend. Y/N’s university graduation, her parents’ thirty-year anniversary celebration party, her first promotion celebration dinner…
The kitchen was still on the right, the living room on the left and straight ahead the stairs to the bedrooms. Y/N’s bedroom still had Justin Timberlake poster hung up on the walls along with some pictures of friends and family. The teddy bear he won for her at the funfair when they were not even ten stood on her bed. Jake swore that if he opened the dresser, he would still find the shelf that was for his stuff back then.
Without many words, both of them got ready for bed. Y/N took the en-suite bathroom first and when Jake got back in his sweatpants, she was already in bed, cuddling Mister B the teddy bear. His chuckle made her look up to him with sleepy eyes and quickly look away when she realized he didn’t wear a shirt. He kissed her on her forehead before tugging her more tightly in her sheets and turning off the bedside lamp.
“Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep unless someone was holding my hand?”
Jake only hummed in answer, and even in the darkness of her room, his hand found hers instinctively. Their fingers intertwining immediately, he did just as he had promised when he was only just a kid; he never let it go.
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“Son,” Y/N’s father spoke from the other side of the kitchen, “don’t worry about it.”
Jake shook his head, smiling, before proceeding with what he was already doing: loading the cup he had used to drink coffee in the dishwasher. Ever since he had been up earlier that morning, Y/N’s parents had pampered him with all their attention while also being busy preparing lunch. Every time he asked if they needed help, they would assure him he just needed to stay put in his seat.
It had always been like this, for as long as he had remembered. Whenever he had gone over when Y/N and he were still in middle school, her parents had always taken good care of him, making sure the crust of his PB&J sandwiches were cut off, putting on his favourite beddings when they were having a sleepover, drying his clothes in the air dryer when they came home soaking wet from the park. He felt loved in a different way than he did at home, where he had a hard time adjusting to his new family dynamics with his two younger step-sitters. Growing up, they continued on listening to him and caring for him. Y/N’s father was the one he went to for advice before he enrolled. Ever since, and with the little time he had with them every time he came home, it still hit him in the face how much they loved him like he was their own son.
“Do you need help with anything?” He asked once more.
This time, they did not have time to answer. Y/N appeared on the doorstep, changed out of her pyjamas, hair still wet. “The shower is all yours, Jake.”
She watched him go as if she had to make sure he remembered the way to her room. She hadn’t really realized yet that he was really here, with them, and feared that he would just disappear at any minute or that she would just wake up from whatever dream she was having. Somehow this also seemed to be all too familiar, like a play they had rehearsed a hundred time before. It broke her heart a little to know this was most likely not going to happen again before a very long time, that it could actually never happen again.
Y/N got this thought out of her head as soon as it came. She didn’t need to think about this. Not now. Not ever. She just needed to enjoy whatever time she had with him at home.
“He looks good,” her mum stated once Jake had made it to the top of the stairs.
“Yeah, he does,” Y/N spoke softly, eyes lingering to where Jake had been only a couple of seconds before, suddenly wondering if he was really as good as they thought.
When Jake got back to the kitchen the entrance clock had just struck eleven. Only sixty minutes until he would be reunited with his family. It never felt more real, but he couldn’t quite realize it. He was so used of being far away from them, totally disconnected from their realities, hearing their news after everyone else. Yet, he had always found them as he had left them, eyes watering to see him home or gone.
He joined Y/N on the vegetable preparation. Washing, peeling, cutting kept him busy while the anticipation started to build up. All while Y/N’s father asked him about what new manoeuvres he had learned. Being an aviator himself, they could talk about flying for hours to Y/N’s greatest damn; she had the biggest fear of flying - and perhaps the fact that Jake nearly crashed them while flying an old aircraft he had restored with her father when they were teenagers had something to do with it.
“These boys,” Y/N’s mother sighed playfully as Jake and Y/F/N were debating whatever solar planes were the future of aviation. Y/N smiled as she shared a knowing look with her mother, who was getting ready to lay the table in the dining room.
“Mom, hold on,” Y/N called before reaching inside the cupboard next to her, “you are missing a plate.”
“Why? Is Mark coming after all?”
Y/M/N’s face went white in only a second as she realized what she had just said. Not knowing what to do else, Y/N handed her the white plate. Looking sideways to Jake, she hoped he hadn’t heard - she didn’t want him to find out like this, when his whole family was going to be here in the next thirty minutes.
It was already too late though; Jake’s attention had of course switched to their awkward interaction. Her father was quick to step in, wiping his hands on a cloth and moving towards his wife.
“Of course he is, darling. Let me help you bring those into the dining room.”
Y/N watched them disappear before quickly turning back to the carrots she was now cutting in a Julienne, praying Jake would just drop the subject. Ever since she had learned that Jake was having a leave, she had planned their reunion to be perfect. She had purposely lied to his family, pretending to have a very big news to share with them so they all agreed to gather even if the atmosphere was not good. She had made them promise to bury the hatchet, for “her” and most absolutely for Jack. Whatever touchy topics they would have to talk about, they could do it after.
“Why wouldn’t he come?” Jake still asked and, at that moment, she knew that whatever she would tell him would never be sufficient to not draw his suspicion any further. She couldn’t lie to him even if she tried.
“Just been busing with work lately, you know how it is.”
Without letting him time to ask more questions, Y/N went for the stoves to make sure the sauce was still reducing as it should have. She could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes on her back and could only hope he would drop the subject.
“Jake, son,” Y/F/N had just gotten back from the dining room, “would you mind giving me a hand with the roast?”
After taking a last look at Y/N, still very focused on stirring the sauce, Jake turned to her father. It wasn’t until she didn’t feel his eyes on her that she turned to look at him. She watched as her father made him took out the turkey so he could put some more butter on it. Out of the corner of his eye his father gives him a reassuring wink signalling her he had got this.
The bell rang at the exact same moment Y/N put the last plate of hors d’oeuvres at the centre of the table. Shooting a look across the piece, she saw her father squeezing Jake’s shoulder in what seemed to comfort him. She smiled shyly, trying to hide her own nervousness. Thanks to her father, Jake had nearly forgotten about the earlier incident about Mark and the reason he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He hadn’t asked any other questions, and they hadn’t given away other secrets. All was well in the best of all words, or so she still tried to convince herself. It was all that mattered.
“Just like we said, you both stay here, and we’ll bring them for you.”
Y/N watched as her parents disappeared in the hall. She turned to Jake who she now realized he was close at her side - she knew from the way his lips were set in a tight smile that he was somehow nervous. When noises started coming from the hall, Y/N grabbed Jake’s hand without thinking. She needed him to know she was there, that she would always be there, just like they promised when they were younger. It would take much more than a thousand of miles and a few hiccups to take them apart. As if he was thinking the exact same thing, Jake squeezed her hand back.
Jake’s step-dad was the first to enter the dining room. Y/N saw his eyes go from herself to Jake right next to her side, his eyes lighting up in realization. Yet, he didn’t say anything, holding a finger to his lips to let them know he would stay silent while moving further into the room as if nothing had happened. He and Jake had never been particularly close; he was a good man, a good husband, and a good father to his daughters, but Jake’s fatherly figure had always been Y/N’s father.
Next to enter the room was Jake’s youngest step-sister, Sophia. She immediately spotted him, letting out a cry and running into his arms. He crushed his sister in one of those same hugs he gave Y/N when she picked him up from the airport. It warmed her heart to see them like that. Sophia was still very young when Jake had enrolled; she was only just a kid and had grown up with the lack of his older brother. She was looking up to him so much that Y/N had sometimes to remind her that he didn’t have only qualities. He was her hero in so many ways…
Sophia’s reaction got the rest of the family - his mother, Olivia, his other step-sister, and his step-brother, Mark - in the dining room quite quickly. There were a lot of “Jake!” shouted from across the room and loads of tears, happy smiles, and hugs.
“I can’t believe he is here.” Sophia cried again; this time she was in Y/N’s arms. “And I can’t believe you lied to us.”
“Sorry not sorry,” Y/N smiled, tugging a string of her hair behind her ears before bringing her in an even closer hug if it was possible. She wasn’t sure she had seen her this happy in her life, she realized.
Y/N was an only child with a very little family. Over the years, Jake’s family had grown to be her own as well. As children first, as they were always all together at either one’s house or the others. As teenagers when his step-sisters weren’t babies anymore and they had started to be able to play more with them. She remembered helping his mom getting both of his sisters ready for school, all of them celebrating Christmas at her parents or going dress shopping for Olivia’s first prom.
Ever since Jake had been deployed on the West Coast and later overseas, they had grown even closer. There were brunches on Sundays, just the three of them, where Sophia would file them up on her latest dating adventures. There were lunches at Olivia’s office after they had taken a midday yoga class. There were breakfasts with Sophia before her classes began. Y/N had always made sure they were alright, as if she had to do it for Jake.
So far, the lunch had turned out great.
Jake had told them all about his last position and this group of pilots he had been joining overseas. Everyone had started feeding him bits and pieces of what had occurred ever since the last time he’s been home. Olivia and Mark had managed not to fight, which was a miracle in itself, per Y/N’s opinion. Jake’s mom had finally stopped crying. And Sophia seemed to have forgotten about those hard choices she would have to make once she graduated from college at the end of the year.
At least, that was the case until Jake asked about it.
“So, any thoughts yet about what you’ll do next year?”
“No, not really.”
Y/N had already seen that look on Sophia’s face. It was the same one she made when she was hesitating between an avocado toast and pancakes at the place they were used to going to brunch; every time she had been making this face, she had ended up with ordering both. Sophia eyed her tentatively and Y/N immediately shook her head no, silently pleading her not to do whatever she was thinking.
Today was not the day. Jake had only gotten back from abroad hours ago, they would have enough time to discuss it in the next couple of days.
“I am thinking of enrolling,” Sophia stated abruptly.
Boom.
The bomb had landed.
Y/N sighed, mentally cursing Sophia for needing whatever validation from him. They all had talked about this extensively for months on now. Decide to enrol was one thing, accept that one of your relative would do the same was another. She knew how Jake was; he didn’t look like it at first sight, but his family was his everything. He had made the selfish decision that could result in them losing him forever, yet he wouldn’t accept that she’d do the same.
From the deathly silence that came after Sophia’s statement, Y/N rested the cutlery on the side of her plate, bracing herself for whatever had to come. Her attitude made Jake immediately turned to her. She had never seen the wrinkle between his eyebrows this deep before. She didn’t know if it was from dread, disappointment, or anger.
“You knew?”
Jaw tight, Y/N didn’t answer, and Jake huffed - of course, she knew. How could she not? She was here, with his own family, when he was thousands of miles away fighting for his country. She was here, only a ride away, when he couldn’t even remember the last time he had enough telephone network to FaceTime them. She was there, physically with them, when he was just a ghost, present for a few days a year before disappearing for months on hand.
Y/N tried to reach out for his left arm to try and calm the whole situation down, but he moved ever so slightly she couldn’t touch him. The fire in Jake’s green eyes was incandescent. He was angry, with Sophia, with her, with everyone. And to know he didn’t even know half of it…
“Let’s not start now,” his older step-sister stepped in to try and reason him.
“Why?” Jake retorted immediately. “Wanna updates me on what is going on with Mark as well?”
Olivia opened her mouth to answer and as she couldn’t seem to find something to say, she then closed it and lowered her head. She and Mark had officially announced a few weeks before Jake returned that they were going to take some time apart. They had been married for nearly three years and they were having a rough path. They had started couple therapy, trying to make things work. Y/N couldn’t count the hours Olivia had spent on her couch, crying and eating ice-creams.
Y/N knew exactly how she felt like. The deception of thinking she had found the love of her life only to realize it was more complex than this. The sadness of loving someone and it still not being enough for the two of them to be happy. The paralyzing fear of being alone, of never being well enough.
She needed a shoulder to cry onto and a lot of love, and not to be reminded of what a failure she thought she was.
“I am sorry,” Sophia mumbled. Y/N wasn’t sure to whom she was apologizing. Jake? Them?
“You can’t seriously be thinking about it?” Jake half-shouted, pointing her finger at her like he was accusing her of the worst betrayal.
“Don’t say anything you’d regret, son.”
Y/N’s father word seemed to put some sense into him as he leaned his back against his chair, folding his arms against his chest. The distress on Sophia’s face was now palpable and she was on the verge of crying from Jake’s quite violent reaction. Though she didn’t expect Jake to be totally supportive, Y/N had not expected him to reject the idea that much either. She had thought that he would’ve still listen to her reasons, maybe try to talk her out of it, but finally make peace with the idea. Just like they had. Just like they all had when he was in her shoes.
Olivia had regained her composure and wrapped an arm around her sister’ shoulders. The look she sent Jake probably refrained him from attacking again his little sister. Instead, he chose another target for his anger.
“How can anybody be cool with this?”
Before Jake’s mom could speak, Y/N called him out. “Why could you do it and not her, Jake, huh?” She wants to be like you so bad, don’t you see?
“That’s not the same thing.”
Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes.
It made her even bitter. For all the things he hadn’t told her when he had no reason to hide it from her. For him being hurt that they didn’t want to discuss as such important topics over the phone. She would have liked to be sorry to hide all this from him, yet his reaction had only comfort her on her choice.
“You’re being unfair.”
“Am I now?” he laughed. “Excuse me for putting my life at sake and not wishing for me sister to do the same.”
“Did anybody ask you to? If anything, we would all have loved to keep you by our side.”
“Oh, I see. So, this is all my fault, right?”
The daring look he offered her made her heart jump in her chest. Her stomach was in fire; consuming her from the inside. She was tired from the sleepless nights she had for the last few months. And sad about the outcome of this lunch. And disappointed in him. And quite frankly done with his attitude.
Sighing, she gave in and looked away, throwing her napkin on her plate at the same time. Whatever this was, it was too much for her to handle. “If you’d excuse me,” she announced as she moved her chair back. “I am not hungry anymore.”
“Y/N-” he called after her, grabbing her arm to make her stay. She gave him a pained look before abruptly pulling away from his grip.
“Welcome home, Jake.”
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Jake’s face appeared once again on her phone screen.
Big bright smile, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, forehead sun-kissed by the first rays of sunshine of spring. The picture had been taken one of the few times she had fly out to California to visit him. They had such a good time that Y/N used to hold all those memories close to her heart. Now, she couldn’t even look at it.
She couldn’t count the number of texts Jake had sent nor the number of messages he had left on her voice mail. She hadn’t read nor listened to any of them and had even decided to turn off her phone at some point during the night. She needed some time alone to take a breath and to swallow the disappointment that was forming a lump in her throat.
Despite the emotional roller coaster this day had been, she hadn't fallen asleep until late in the night, turning over in the sheet nonstop while thinking of all the comebacks she could have said to his face. And like every other night for months now, when she had finally managed to get some sleep, her worst nightmare had woken her up a couple of hours later.
It only made her feel worse and she cried all the tears in her body. It was like whatever emotion she had retained in the last year had come back to her like a wrecking ball. She was angry for all sorts of reasons all linked to Jake one way or another. She was also very sad of the situation she found herself into, of Jake having spoiled their reunion, of the spectacle she had given in front of her loved ones.
So, when she turned on her phone a few hours later, eyes still puffy and red from the lack of sleep and the crying, she didn’t hesitate to turn down his call when his smiley face appeared on her phone screen. At that time, she discovered the multiple texts and missed calls of her parents and Jake’s sisters. She sent them a quick group message, letting them know she was fine and that she would catch up later. Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she got ready for her day.
Her phone rang four more times while she was getting ready. She was now determined to let him know to leave her alone. She was still pissed, and she needed to compose herself. This was without counting on the doorbell ringing when she was about to answer her phone.
Stopping whatever she was doing, she made the few steps from the kitchen counter to her apartment door, opening it without even thinking who she would find behind. Much to her surprise it was the only person she didn’t want to see. Jake. Standing there, phone in his hand.
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed when she nearly shut the door in his face.
He stopped it before it was fully closed and after a deep sigh, Y/N let him in without even giving him a look. She closed the door behind him, passing him - still without looking at him - and went to the living room. She leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms on her chest much like he had done during lunch just the day before.
Jake stood in the middle of the room, watching around him. It was the first time he was in her new place, the one she started rented after she broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It wasn’t much, only a one-bedroom apartment with a sanitized decor - she hadn’t had the heart to make it her own. It was close to her work and not a too long drive from her parents; it was all she really needed.
Y/N studied him in silence. He must not have had the memo about the Texas weather at that time of the year as he was only wearing a beige sweater, sleeves rolled up. It wasn’t much of a surprise he had forgotten how it was; he had spent so little time home in the last ten years.
When her eyes finally got to his face, she realized he was now staring at her. She tried reading him like she could before, but what she found in his eyes, she couldn’t interpret. Perhaps something had been broken between them. Perhaps there were only so much absence someone could handle. Perhaps they had let the miles come in between them for real this time.
She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this before he finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Long gone was the hope she had that he would apologize.
Jake had never been one to be wrong; he was probably even the most stubborn person she had ever met. Though she liked this confidence in him, she also knew it was hiding something much deeper. His trauma of being abandoned by his father when he was still a toddler. The fear of his loved ones realizing what a failure he was, despite everything he had already accomplished. The fear of never being enough.
He had assured her it wasn’t one of the reasons he had enrolled, and she knew he was lying to her just as much he was lying to himself. But she wasn’t her twenty-something-self; she wasn’t going to protect his feelings anymore. Now that they didn’t have an audience, she could lay her cards on the table.
“Do you mean, just like you didn’t tell us about the ejection seat accident that you had six months ago?”
She saw his face drop ever so slightly before he regained his composure back. She wasn’t the only one keeping things from him, yet contrary to him, the things she was keeping a secret weren’t really hers anyway.
“How would you know?”
“Javy called me that time,” she stated dryly, memories of the call she got in the middle of the night flowing to her head. She still had nightmares about it most nights. “He wanted me to know in case your brain injury worsened, and they had to call your family.”
This secret, she had never told anyone and had carried the weight of it on her own until now. She had smiled and assured everyone that all was fine for the days - sixteen in total - they didn’t hear from him; how could he, he had been literally in a 24h surveillance at the hospital. She had had Javy on the phone to report every little detail he had of Jake’s evolution. She hadn’t had sleep for weeks straight and had nearly cried when Jake had called him after a very busy and unexpected mission he took part in - another way for putting he had just got cleared from the hospital.
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, Jake! You got banned from flying for six weeks. Six fucking weeks!”
“And yet, it wasn’t the first time I ended up in the hospital, nor was it the last time. You know that’s part of the job.”
Y/N snorted.
Like hell she knew. The job description went with never being in the same time zone as your loved ones, missing every single milestone in their life, putting his very own safety at risk so they could all be free and safe, and omitting all details of the national security missions to which he was taking part. She was pretty sure though there was no line in his contract about lying about his health, especially when he could have died, to his family.
For some reason, this whole situation had made his absence even worse. She realized he didn’t feel safe to let them know when things had gone bad; if this time she had known, she couldn’t even imagine all those other times Javy hadn’t been there to inform her. It had awakened a visceral (and most likely also irrational) fear in her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she still wasn’t ready to accept it.
“Why is this such a big deal when you knew what was going in here and didn’t even tell me?”
If she hadn’t been this tired, Y/N would have probably walked to him to slap him. How could he compare his near-death experience to his sisters’ decisions? How could any of it be equivalent?
“This was not my truth to tell,” she only replied blankly.
Yes, she wasn’t very proud of hiding things from Jake and lying on purpose. But she wasn’t thirteen any longer and when people confided in her - when she promised she wouldn’t tell him anything - she wasn’t going to go running to her best friend to spill all the tea.
“Will you then tell me the truth about what really happened between you and the other dickhead?”
“I already told you everything,” she answered dryly, a little bit too quickly for it not to be suspicious.
“I don’t believe you.”
Y/N knew from the sound of his voice it was pure provocation. He gave her the same daring look she had just seen the day before - the same consuming flame was in his eyes - and she could see his infamous smirk dawning on his lips. She wondered why he wanted to prove just how right he was - how he was always right - so bad. It made her skin scramble how infuriating he was.
She didn’t answer right away and stared at him, arms crossed on her chest a little bit tighter to protect herself. Everything that was happening was only making her angrier towards him. He had ruined everything, and he had just decided to continue on doing so.
She had dreamt about him coming home for months and months, to have him by her side and now, she could only wish for him to go away. The anger, the pain, the animosity; it was all too much. She couldn’t keep up anymore.
“What do you want me to tell you, huh? How much of a great boyfriend and man he was, but that it still wasn’t enough? How much a horrible person I am for not being able to fall in love with a person that would devote his own life to try and make me happy?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as the words sank in. It all made sense to him suddenly. Why she seemed to be relieved it was all over. Why she didn’t call him after he broke her heart. Why, on the rare occasion he had discussed the break-up with his sisters, they had never talked badly about her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t break her heart. He never did.
She was the one breaking his.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, this time his voice much softer.
How could she? When it all started with his accident - that she wasn’t even supposed to know of. When it took her five years of a stable relationship to realize her longtime boyfriend had never have been the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. When it took her half of her adult life to understand she had been lying to herself for almost all her life and that even now, she didn’t know her truth from her lies any more.
Knowing the truth, Jake didn’t know what to say. He wanted to feel sorry, he wanted to tell her he was. But was he really? It would be lying to say he didn’t exult when he had heard of the break-up... On the day she introduced him to Nick, they he had discussed - quite vividly - about the country actions in Afghanistan - one of the campaigns he had just come home from - and from that day, Jake had just decided he wouldn’t like the man. He hadn’t been very subtle about disliking him, but in his opinion, Nick had paid him back in his own coin: monopolizing Y/N whenever Jake had her on the phone, making her choose between the two of them when he had had the opportunity to fly her oversea. He still felt nauseous to recall how Y/N had seemed to only look at him every time Nick was in the room with them.
He made a few steps in her direction, going to comfort her, but Y/N only shook her head. She wouldn’t let any of this go so easily. It wasn’t because she had confided in him, that he now knew all the truth from her part, that everything else would be forgotten. There were still a lot of unspoken truth to uncover.
“Why are you really here, Jake?”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason you got this leave, what is it?”
They stood less than a metre away, eyes in eyes. Jake never felt so vulnerable as every time she looked at him as if she could read his soul. He knew she was looking for something. Something he couldn’t give her.
Looking away, he answered, “It’s nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Y/N slipped away before he could even react. He watched as she turned back towards the front door. She opened it without a word and looked into his eyes as she stood leaned against it.
“Goodbye, Jake.”
And this time, he didn’t even try to fight.
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Javy: Hey, got Hangman on the phone today. You okay?
Y/N: Did he vent at you for calling me that one time?
Javy: Almost.
Javy: He wasn’t really angry though. Just frustrated I guess.
Y/N: I bet. Wasn’t really the nice little break he must have planned.
Javy: If there is anything to learn from all this it is that truth is better spoken from the person they apply to.
Javy: You should talk to him.
Y/N: Yeah well I’ll see about that.
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Jake was very nervous, and he wasn’t very nervous a lot.
In fact, he was pretty sure the last time he was that nervous was when he had picked Y/N up for their senior prom. Just like every year since starting high school, she had been his date - though Chad nearly had taken her away from him, but this dumbass had broken up with her only a couple of weeks before prom. That year, for some reason, everything felt different. High school years were coming to an end, they were both going to different universities. Everything was about to change, and it would never be the same. Jake had dreaded taking their relationship to the next level. If only he had known that despite going to different universities, Jake enrolling and basically the two of them living their life in parallel, their relationship had made it.
More or less so... It had been three days now since the lunch at her parents, two since their other discussion - if he would call this an argument, he was still unsure - and today was the first time he was seeing her since then.
After spending time with his family, he was on his way to meet with some of their childhood friends. Normally, Y/N was one of them and she had been invited. But with the recent events, he didn’t know if she would be here. He had had time to reflect on what had been said and finally had apologized to her voice mail as she wouldn’t let his calls through. He had given her plenty of time and space, sending in only a couple of good mornings and good nights texts, just like he was used to. Yet he didn’t know what to expect.
When he spotted her already sat at the table he had booked, his heart started pounding furiously. It gave him hope not everything between them had been broken.
“Hey,” Jake greeted Y/N softly when he had gotten at her level.
Y/N only nodded, barely looking at him, before continuing her discussion with their friend, Monica, like nothing had happened. Jake swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing to greet everyone around the table.
In all those diners they had had with their friends when he had been home, she would have been sat next to him, so close but merely touching. He would have had his arm resting nonchalantly on the back of her chair. He would have whispered all sorts of things in her ears, and she would have laughed open light-heartedly at every single one of his jokes.
That night, she was sat as far as possible from him and he had difficulty focusing on the group discussion, his mind going back to her every time. He probably went the whole evening looking at her not so subtly in the hope she would like to give him a look. She did not.
“You good?” Matt, sat at his side, asked him after the main course.
“Yeah,” Jake answered though the little tremor in his voice didn’t reflect confidence.
“Just give her a little time. It’s just a lot, y’know.”
Jake only nodded.
The problem was indeed just that: time. His flight back was in two days now and she was supposed to be his ride. He knew she would be able to drop him off without speaking a word, while he sat there in the agonizing silence. He was sure he was not able to do it for a couple of hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to not have her speak to him every again. He couldn’t get back to combat with Y/N still mad at him. He needed to fix things. He had been able to do it with his sisters; he had to do it with Y/N.
Indeed, the lunch had finished soon after Y/N’s dramatic departure. His sisters hadn’t spoken another word to him, and Y/N’s parents had tried to maintain some semblance of a conversation. Jake had taken a quick walk to clear his mind before going to his parents.
He had sat down with Olivia first and then Sophia, so they could tell him everything that had been going on. He sat there listening to what they had to say until they were done. There had been a lot of crying on their side (only a tiny little bit on his side - most likely because he had a dust in the eye, he would say). In the end, they had hugged and laughed and remembered that they loved each other and that nothing could be more important than that.
He had realized Olivia seemed much more at peace, somehow differently but also similarly to Y/N’s. She had so many plans on her side - buying a house, planning a trip to Europe, getting a puppy – as if she had just discovered she could be a unique person outside her marriage and she genuinely was happier.
The talk with Sophia had been a little bit more sensitive. The idea of her enrolling made his blood boiling, but he had remained calm – or at least tried to - and listened to her reasons. If he was afraid to see himself in her, her reasons were solely different than his. She didn’t want this only to do like him; it was more that he had paved the way for her. He had made her promise to think some more about it - at least, graduate from college before deciding anything - and he had promised to be supportive. He would have some work on himself, but he would cross that bridge when he’d get there.
They had of course talked about Y/N and how she was carrying the whole family on her shoulders. She always made sure everyone was alright, answering her phone at 3 a.m. to pick up Sophia from a frat party gone wild, welcoming Olivia in her tiny apartment - giving her the only bed to sleep on the couch, despite her protest - the time she turned things round after Mark and she had decided to take some time apart. She even made sure their mother was alright when his step-dad was away for business, bringing her homemade meals that she only had to heat up and keeping her company.
If he always knew what an amazingly caring person she was, it only proved him right. He would be forever grateful she was the first person to have talked to him on his first day of kindergarten. He would be forever grateful for the woman she was. If he was honest with himself, it all made him love her even more.
He wasn’t ready to watch her from afar - well, from much far away than his current position - but he would do it (or at least try), should she ask him to…
After what seemed to be an eternity, the evening finally came to an end.
Jake didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Y/N though he hesitated multiple times to just call her out or walk to her and demand that they had a chat. She was currently bidding goodbye to everyone in front of the restaurant, and Jake was watching her attentively to ambush her just as soon as she was finished. He didn’t care if he would be rude to anyone by not saying thank you for coming and goodbye; he needed to talk to her.
After she hugged Monica and promised to let her know when she got home safely, she reached for her car key in her bag and made her way to her car without even looking at him. Jake took his luck and followed her. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.
“Can we not?”
“Why?” she turned around suddenly. “Want me to tell you anything else?”
“Y/N, please.”
She only raised an eyebrow before turning back and continuing walking. Too bad for her, Jake wasn’t one to give up this easily. He followed her lead up to her car that she started to unlock to get in. A wave of panic got through him as he could feel her slip away from his fingers and he didn’t want that. If they didn’t have this talk now, he was not sure they would have it at all.
“I only have two days left,” he said, interposing himself between the closed door and her. “Please.”
Y/N froze at only a few centimetres away from him. She seemed to think about what options she had. Unfortunately for her, there just wasn’t much as she couldn’t make Jake move even if she wanted to. So, she chose the reasonable choice. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened.
“I-” he sighed, passing a hand on his face, frustration clearly visible on his face now. “There has been an incident. We lost two men.”
Y/N’s arms immediately dropped to her side; the mask she wore on her face cracked. She could have been angry he lied to her, yet again, but this time, it was too serious. People died. The command had given them time off because of it. It only reminded her it could end at any time. She really could lose him.
“Jake,” she sighed.
“I-”
His voice broke and Y/N didn’t hesitate to go in for a hug. Out of habits, his arms found her waist and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed her perfume in, trying to ground himself and not totally lose it. She was his rock. There were no ways he would still be here if it wasn’t for her waiting for him at home.
He couldn’t lose her.
“I can only imagine the worry I cause you all,” he muttered in her hair. “I didn’t want to add anything to it.”
Y/N grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to look at her. She wore a small frown on her eyebrows and determination in her eyes. While she was touched he wanted to spare their feelings, not knowing what was going on was even worse. She couldn’t count the number of times she had thought he was dead when an unknown number had called her phone. In order to support him the best way they could, they needed to know.
“Getting you back in one piece is our priority,” she started, voice bold as if she wanted him to engrave her words in his head. “That’s why we are keeping things to ourselves. We don’t want you to worry about us when you should be solely focused on staying alive.”
Jake half-smiled in return, which made Y/N relax a bit. Her hands fall on his shoulder as he kept her close to him, so close that there was no space between their two bodies. They had realized they wanted the exact same thing for one another: for them to be safe and sound.
“I worry about you all, all the time. I worry about you, all the time,” he confessed, his voice still low.
Jake reached out to tuck a loose string of hair behind her ear and Y/N instinctively leaned in his touch. It was like this between them, easy and pure. It always had. Sometimes - like these last past days, they were so caught up in life they seemed to forget what they had was so unique. Every time they had found their way back to each other.
“I left you alone while I am off, living my dream.”
“Don’t say it like you could have made any other choice, Jake.”
“I don’t regret it,” he answered right back. “Yet if I had to do it all over again, there are a lot of things about you that I would do a whole lot differently.”
Y/N nodded slowly, her heart rate slightly going up. If they often shared I-love-you’s more out of habits than anything else - though they were always genuine, Jake had never really expressed out loud how he felt about her, and from the electricity in the air - totally different from the explosive tension that had built up until now, she could feel there were more to it.
“It’s never too late, they say,” he smiled softly, his hand making it to the back of her neck.
Y/N hold her breath, searching in his eyes if he was being serious and if he was really wanting to finish the conversation they had started the night of their senior prom. If he wanted to do it right here, right now in a parking lot. It was a conversation that could have totally changed their life if they had it. A conversation for which they every so often imagined what they would have said if fear hadn’t stopped them.
If there were much younger back then, nothing now had changed at all.
“I’ve always been yours,” Y/N whispered. It would be lying if relief hadn’t wash over Jake. Of course he had known - he had always known - yet, hearing it was another thing.
“I know.”
Y/N’s bright eyes saw his eyes dove down to her lips, only a dozen of centimetres away she realized now, then back to her eyes. Her cheeks were burning up from the anticipation of what was to come. Yet, lost in each other’s eyes, none of them moved.
At that moment, the world could have stopped that they wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing else but them mattered.
“Well, kiss me then.”
318 notes · View notes
abbeym28 · 3 months
Text
Clarisse La Rue - Between the Breaths
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Clarisse x gn! reader
An- Over 3.4k on this one!!! It didn't really take me that long to write it either! Thank you for all of the notes on I'm Your Man, it means a lot to me! Also, if anyone has request for any Clarisse or Luke fanfics, I would be happy to hear them even though I have no clue on how to do requests lol
Warnings- Training, weapons, somewhat gruesome part but really at all, Clarisse being friends with most of the Aphrodite cabin, reader can be from any cabin!! Pls let me know if I missed something!!
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Clarisse La Rue had been at Camp Half blood for awhile, and it's safe to say that she has seen a lot of things. Good things, pretty things, but also gruesome things, things that would break a normal person if they weren't strong.
But she was strong.
Just not as much when it comes to you.
You, who the moon and sun seemed to shine on in a whole different light then it did on the rest of camp. You, whose kindness had reached almost every demigod, each of which likes you in their own way for their own reason. You, who was the most beautiful person Clarisse has ever seen.
Except she couldn't ever get too close to you, or have a conversation with you that was long, for she was Clarisse La Rue, child of Ares, the favorite daughter of a man who didn’t like his kids. And you, you were just too good for her. But she would never let a crush like this weigh on her the way it had started to, so she found a good way to regulate it all.
It was fighting, of course.
She let out a battle cry as she stabbed her spear into the ground, getting annoyed at how the other camper had rolled out of the way instead of letting her stab them. Sounds of other kids also fighting in the training ground filled her ears and she could distantly pick up the smell of food. She could thank the instincts she got from her god-parent as she went in for another attack (this time one that would actually hit), but a yell stopped her before she could go through with it.
“Hey! Anyone who wants a snack can take one!” Luke Castellan stood off to the side with his arms crossed, and standing right next to him holding a tray, was you.
Younger campers ran over to the two of you, while older ones opted to walk or to pick up dangerous weapons that had been discounted to the ground.
Clarisse scoffed and began to walk the other way, clenching her gifted spear tightly in her hand. She was stomping down the path through the forest that led to her special spot, her favorite tree, but the sound of running footsteps from behind her made her slow down and lighten her steps.
She twirled around, spear at the ready to go through a neck, but it was your neck in which the spear was now pointed at. And, surprise surprise, your neck was attached to the rest of your body.
The back of her neck and the tips of her ears began to feel hot, the type of burning she swore she could only feel whenever she entered the Hephaestus cabin to complain about her faulty armor. Or whenever she was close to you at the bonfire nights. She lowered her spear a bit and her stance faltered.
“Oh, um, I was just.... Is this a bad time?”
“No, it’s not.” She dropped the spear from the attack mode and turned around, continuing down the path. You followed after her, balancing the last few snacks still on the tray you were holding as you awkwardly stepped over tree trunks and discarded branches.
“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted anything to eat, considering that you're, like, the most hard working person in training and stuff. You definitely need substances so you can keep your muscles. ” Wow, you definitely knew exactly how and what to say to a kid of Ares.
“I don’t need a snack from you.” Gods, she hoped you picked up more on the sarcasm and not the accidental longing that had slipped out.
“Clarisse-” -she almost melted with how you had said her name- “-You were training really hard for a pretty long time. You should- you need to eat something!”
“I don’t need to do anything that you or anyone else tells me to!” She whirled around, getting very close to you as you halted, but taking a few steps back as a precaution. She glared at you, and you could feel her heavy breaths on your neck. You were looking down on her thanks to the hill, but despite that she was still pretty intimidating.
And just pretty.
Her eyes flickered to the snacks, and then they flickered back up to meet yours.
“If I take one, can you leave?” You brightened at her question.
“Of course!” She hesitantly took one, and before she turned around, you could have sworn that you heard her whisper a “Thank you, angel.” Your cheeks felt strangely warm as you made your way back to camp.
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Throwing down another broken dagger, Clarisse groaned. The dummy she had destroyed was laying in shreds on the ground in front of her, and she was beginning to feel bad for whoever would have to stitch it back up. Someone began to clap behind her and her eye twitched.
“I think you got ‘em!” Selena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite, called from the sidelines.
“What do you want?” Clarisse called back, grabbing another dagger from the closest weapons rack near her. Silena watched as she twirled it around a few times.
“I’m here to ask you about something.” there was a strange sly smirk that situated on Silena’s face, that no matter what reputation the Aphrodite kid was, other campers knew that was the universal sign to run away.
Clarisse sighed and crossed her arms, the dagger she was holding pointing to the ground. She quirked her eyebrow as a way to say “go ahead”.
“We know you have a crush.” All of the sudden, at least six other kids that Clarisse could recognize as from the Aphrodite cabin jumped out of the bushes and came rushing towards Clarisse.
That was how she died.
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Okay, so she definitely didn’t die, but dying was definitely better than being forced onto a pink chair inside the even pinker walls of the goddess of love's cabin.
Could’ve Clarisse fought of all of them and then report them to Chiron? Yes. But she just really didn't feel up to using that much energy on a bunch of perfect haired people. And besides, the amount of strength they had did impress her, so she was going to give it to them just this once.
A twelve year old girl was holding onto her right hand, delicately and perfectly brushing on a coat of black nail polish onto her freshly buffed nails.
Clarisse tried to pay attention to everything that the girl was doing, but the distracting amount of sets of eyes on her made it hard to do so. Even so, this was the first time someone had ever painted her nails for her.
“Got the ice cream!” Mitchell, one of the only sons of the love goddess came through the cabin doors, and he was met with cheers from every magenta cabin corner.
It took a minute or two until a bowl was eventually passed to Clarisse, but it was snatched away by the girl doing her nails. She wrinkled her nose at her, and the girl stuck out her tongue as response.
“So,” Silena started off, pausing to take a bite of the ice cream. “Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know what your talking about.” Clarisse stayed stubborn, but she most definitely knew what she was talking about.
“Girl, we see how you get whenever they are around. Do you for real think that we are all stupid?” Another voice piped in from a random bunk bed to Clarisse’s left.
“Who?” She paid hyper attention to how the girl had finished working on her ring finger and was now moving onto her middle one. Shouts of your name rang out under the tall ceiling and Clarisse immediately tensed up.
“I do not have a crush on them.” She scoffed, but everyone else noticed the shakiness in her voice and they all exchanged knowing glances and smiles.
“You soooooo do! And that's why we’re helping you!” Voices of agreement chimed in with their two senses.
“We see how you look at them!”
“Yeah, and there's, like, a certain tension that comes around whenever you guys pass by each other! It’s soooo cute!”
“With our help, there's gonna be no way that they aren't in love with you!” Clarisse glared at the direction the voice came from.
“You don’t think they aren't already in love with me?” It didn’t seem to far of base, since Clarisse herself didn’t believe you were, or that you would ever be. But hearing a bunch of Aphrodite kids practically admit to it hit a bit different.
“I think they like you.” Silena said. Some other kids quickly agreed.
“They get pretty nervous when you're around, and they seek you out whenever there's gatherings. Even when they don’t go up to you, they get more relaxed whenever they see you.” A girl, no older than eight, spoke up from a lower bunk. She was laying her stomach and coloring on a piece of paper while kicking her feat. Everyone turned towards her, questions in the air. The girl looked up and shrugged. “We make paper stars together.” And then she went back to doodling.
Clarisse chuckled. She was not going to underestimate an Aphrodite kid again.
Then, there was a knock on the door. You poked your head through the cracked open door and smiled at everyone.
“Hey, I was just wondering if- Clarisse!” You got more fidgety once you had noticed Clarisse in the chair.
She jumped up and rushed past you and out of the cabin. Shouts of “hey!” rang out from behind her, the most prominent one coming from the girl who was working on her nails.
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The next morning while getting breakfast, Clarisse could admit to herself that she was most definitely a fool.
With one hand of painted nails and the knowledge that she had run away from you, she would much rather stay in her fathers dedicated cabin and not anywhere where the kids from last night could find her.
She set her breakfast down at Ares’s assigned table, making sure that her manicure stayed unaffected. A flowery scent passed behind her, and a note was softly dropped onto the spot in front of her. Once she opened it, the note on the inside read : ”Try flexing at training today! ~ Silena + Aphrodite cabin” Followed by a winky and kissy face.
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The last thing Clarisse wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of more than just you and one cabin. She was for sure going to look stupid showing off the muscles she had gained over the years, but maybe she was always a fool after she caught you looking at her while she stretched.
Training seemed to go by fast that day, and by the end of it she was sweating hard under the sun's glare. She placed her spear down on a bench and sat on the ground, trying to catch her breath from all of the extra moving she had done.
“Clarisse!” Oh boy, she knew that voice. You jogged over to her, a water bottle and towel in your hands. She got up off of the ground, making sure to purposely move her arms in just the right way. While she couldn't say that she was an expert on your expressions, she could say that you looked almost breathless.
“Oh-um, these are for you.” She smiled at you and took the two things from you and in an instant gulped down almost half of the water. You tilted your head to the side a bit.
“Only one of your hands is painted?” She raised her eyebrow before realizing that you meant her nail polish.
“Oh, yeah. I… I don’t really like sitting down for that long.” You nodded your head.
“That makes sense. That happens to me a lot.”
“Sooo, I’ll see you later?” Her simple question seemed to make you brighten up, and you watched as she picked up her spear and moved to go in the direction back to camp. She looked over her shoulder and winked at you, all while making sure to hold her weapon in a way to bring attention to her biceps and back.
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The fire in the pit got higher as Clarisse poked around in it to make sure that it would keep burning. You were across from her on the bench on the other side, talking to two of her brothers and sisters, and whenever she would catch a glimpse of you she would take it as a sign to add to the fire.
The way her siblings were getting close to you, and the way that you would laugh and allow them to touch your arm. It left a burning feeling in her heart, and a sinking feeling in her stomach.
She focused on running her fingers over the thick stick that was used to help the fire.
“Clarisse?” Gods, your voice saying her name had to be her most favorite thing about her life, and for her to just hear like, you must really have a tight hold on her- her eyes flickered up, and there you were, standing in front of her, fidgeting with something small in your hands. “I got some black nail polish from Silena, and I was- I was wondering if I could paint your other hand?”
Clarisse was taken aback. But still, she sat up straighter and moved over a bit. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
You excitedly sat next to her and reached over for her hand. She put her hand into yours, and it felt as if the fire had gotten hotter, and as if fireworks were going off over your heads.
She watched as you focused and delicately worked on her left hand. Your work wasn't as precise as the other girl had been, but for some reason she enjoyed this more, with how your hands would shake and a deep frown would mark your lips in that way that if Clarisse knew that you liked her as she liked you, she would lean over and kiss you until you couldn't even frown.
Clarisse La Rue was most definitely in love with you.
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Over the next weeks, you and Clarisse had gotten closer, but never close enough.
Whenever she wanted to hold your hand, she opted to fix your sleeve or to situate her hand on the small of your back.
Whenever you wanted to grab her and then kiss her till you couldn’t breath, you opted to fix her armor.
But despite all of the things the two wanted, you continued to dance around each other in a way that even Luke was getting tired of. But things changed after Clarisse had that dream.
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The sky was clear, and it was a perfect night to have a picnic on the beach. Clarisse had provided the blanket and the food, and all you had to do was show up and give her the attention that she had been craving while she was too busy.
Things were getting more dangerous around camp, monsters getting closer to the barrier and less new kids showing up for that reason.
Clarisse could fight monsters all day everyday, but it was these nice nights that allowed her to get back the drive to do so. She was close to convincing you to just spend the night sleeping with her in her cabin, not caring how many rules that could potentially break. But if she wouldn’t get that, then she would have to love this. It wasn’t a hard task, considering that anything that had to do with you was something that she would love.
She felt you snuggle in closer to her side, and her heart soared as her arm tightened around your waist.
“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” you whispered, and she could feel your breath against her neck.
“Yeah, but the moon looks beautiful, right?” She whispered back and you grinned.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” She gently pulled off one of your arms that was around her to take your hand in hers, leading you into a simple type of slow dance waltz. She had never danced before, nor had she ever been taught, but she would do anything for you.
The two of you laughed gently, especially once one of you accidentally stepped on the other's foot. When it was nearing the early hour of one, she led you to sit back onto the blanket.
“I'm gonna find you a pearl.” She promised against your lips as you held her closely to yours. You brought her into a kiss, the best and most slow and sensual kiss she would probably ever experience. Once you drew away from her, you laughed a bit.
“Okay, good luck my love.” And so she bounded towards the water, wading in right at the spot she knew clams and oysters were.
Right when she was bending to pick one up, a scream peirced through the darkness.
Your scream.
You were yelling her name, and Clarisse dropped everything to try to make it to you faster. A cyclops had you in its grip and you were struggling greatly.
She wanted to shout that she had no weapon, and that you would have to use the power in which you had gotten from your godly parent.
But she didn’t shout, and she didn't move.
She just watched as you got eaten.
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Clarisse woke up with a start, sweat clinging to what felt like every cell of her skin. She flipped off the blankets of her bed and jumped up.
Nobody else had woken up because of her yet, thank the gods. She wanted to see you, to take you in her arms and know that you were alright, and to tell you that she was sorry that she was so weak. But that wasn’t something she should do, and she knew that.
She sighed and sat pack onto her bed, running her hand down her face. There was no way she could be around you right now.
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It was later that night in which you were finally able to track Clarisse down as she was sitting outside of her cabin.
“Clarisse, you skipped all of our meals together. Are you okay?” You were about to go sit next to her but she got up and began walking towards the forest.
You followed after her, speed walking to keep up. “Clarisse, wait! If something happens, we can talk- woah!” You were going down the path that you had followed her down so long ago, and while you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, you tripped over an arm of a tree that had fallen to the ground.
Clarisse whirled around and caught you before you could touch the ground, and you held onto her arms tightly to ground yourself.
“Wow it was a good thing you were there, Clarisse, or else-” but once you met her eyes, they looked watery. “Oh, honey, what happened?”
No tears had fallen, no matter how hard it looked as she was holding it all in. You reached out your hand and gently caressed along her cheek.
She then pulled you into a hug worthy of a bear, and while you couldn't hear her crying, you could feel the damp that had started to soak through the fabric of your shirt. She held you tight;y as you began to softly draw shapes onto her back, mostly hearts.
“I, I had a dream, and you died, and I love you, and I’m sorry I'm this weak and-”
”Shhh, shh, it's okay, hun. You are not weak at all, and you are justified in whatever you're feeling, okay? And… I love you too” You whispered the last part as she sniffled and pulled away from you a bit.
You looked into each other's eyes for a bit, and you found yourself falling into and appreciating her gorgeous brown eyes. She pulled you closer, and then she pulled you into a kiss.
Your arms moved to be around her neck as her hands that grip your hips loosened the more you both melted into each other. As you pulled away, doubt seemed to fall across her face.
“Are you sure you-” But before she could say anything more, you grabbed the front of her shirt to bring her into a second kiss, one that was just as good as the first one, if not better.
“I love you. And your muscles.” A grin broke across Clarisse’s face.
“I love you too.”
And then going in for a third kiss, she made a mental note to give thanks to the Aphrodite cabin kids. 
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static-radio-ao3 · 3 months
Text
@jegulus-microfic // february 7 // prompt: star // words: 1,416 // cw: referenced sexual content // part 1 + part 3
“So let me get this straight,” Barty says, pacing in front of the couch where Regulus is sitting with his back straight and his hands tucked between his knees. “You sucked off your ex in the bathroom, picked a fight with him because he wanted to return the favor, ended up hooking up with him and staying the night, and now you’re telling me he texted you?”
Barty ticked off every point he made, a full five fingers now held up in front of Regulus' face. Five offenses. Regulus fights to maintain eye contact but his resolve crumbles under Barty's unyielding stare. Barty Crouch Junior, a force of nature. If only he'd use his powers for good.
“That would be correct,” Regulus says after a moment of silence.
“And his name in your phone is do not fucking respond.”
“That would also be correct.”
“And what did you do?”
“I responded.” Regulus at least has the decency to hang his head in shame. He remembers how long it took his friends to piece him back together in the aftermath of Hurricane James.
Barty sighs, bone-deep and long-suffering. He pinches the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand and turning to face Regulus again. “Follow-up question: were you dropped on your head as an infant?”
Regulus perks up at that, because “Well—”
“Don’t answer that,” Barty says, voice clipped. “God, Regulus. Gold star for being a fucking idiot.”
“In my defense,” Regulus starts. He doesn't continue though. Lets the silence stretch until there is no give anymore. Barty cocks an impatient eyebrow. “He looked really good,” Regulus finishes lamely. A red flush crawls up his neck and Regulus is sure it makes the mottled bites and bruises on his skin stand out even more.
Barty stops pacing to shoot Regulus an incredulous look. “That’s such a bad excuse? He always looks good? If you’re gonna be dropping to your knees as soon as he's within a two-mile radius, just— don’t.”
“But—”
And really, Regulus isn’t sure why he’s about to argue. He absolutely should be kept away from James at all times and he’d been so good at it for a while, but then. Well. Before he gets a chance to argue though, Barty cuts him off again.
“Don't make me call Pandora. She will bring the list.”
That does shut Regulus up. A huge file with an annotated bibliography and an itemized list of why Regulus should stay away from James. They had used it against him before and it worked every time. This time though, he didn’t want his weaknesses pointed out to him just yet.
“Fine. I won't talk to James anymore.”
---
“And then you have the fucking audacity to text me?” Regulus asks, incredulity bleeding into his voice. James seems unbothered by it though, hip cocked against the kitchen counter and arms crossed over his chest.
“Would you rather I call you?” He asks.
Regulus whirls on him. “No! I'd rather you not reach out to me at all!”
“See, once again, I am finding that hard to believe.” James pushes himself off the counter and steps closer to Regulus. “Did celibacy make a liar out of you? Or did I fuck you so good you forgot all the things you said last night?” He keeps his voice low as he says it, but Regulus hears it loud and clear. He shifts under James’ sharp gaze. Eyes lazily tracking the way Regulus moves.
“I'm not fucking lying. Last night was a mistake,” Regulus lies. Because that’s what he does now. Apparently.
“Technically two,” James says. He bites his bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes stuck on one of the many bruises littering Regulus’ neck.
Regulus doesn’t need the reminder, he can feel the bites and bruises sting with every turn of his head. Hands pressed palm to palm and the two of them chest to chest. A leg between Regulus’ own and his voice so wrecked he didn’t realize it was his at first. James, softened by the low light in the room, all his sharp edges blurring into pleasure. The hum of a moan into the heated skin of his neck.
“Technically three,” Regulus murmurs, eyes getting hazy, but he catches himself a second later, straightening. “But that's not what we're talking about!”
“Isn’t it?” James cocks his head. A lazy smirk pulls at James’ lips. The sight makes something simmer hot in Regulus’ gut. “We seem awful good at making mistakes. Maybe they're not mistakes at all.”
“All of this was a mistake! From the beginning! We shouldn't have hooked up and we shouldn't have dated and none of this should've fucking happened. Not last night, not last year, none of it.” Regulus takes a heaving breath. Considers saying more, but then James cuts in with:
“Are you done?”
“What?”
“I asked if you were done.”
“I— Yeah. I guess.”
James takes a step closer again, boxing Regulus in against the table. He presses his palms down on the flat surface, one on each side of Regulus’ hips. He has to look up a bit to be able to look James in the eye when they’re this close. He always liked it.
“You know what, that would've hurt my feelings if I believed you. Although I guess I do think this was a mistake. In a way.”
The feeling of James’ breath hitting the side of his neck makes Regulus shiver. James dips down for the barest, briefest moment and drags his lips along the column of Regulus’ neck, tracing the path he laid out the night before. It takes Regulus a second to realize what James just said, too caught up in his closeness to register the words. He isn't prepared for the way that statement makes him feel, a sharp pang in his chest and a dull ache all the way down his fingertips. He curls them into fists, keeps them resolutely in his lap. But before he has a chance to react, James continues.
“See, I think we never should've broken up. Mistake number one.” James takes the smallest of steps backward just to be able to raise his pointer finger. Regulus misses the heat instantly. “And I think you shouldn't have left this morning. Mistake number two.” He raises a second finger. “And you know what they say about mistakes.”
He glances at Regulus thoughtfully, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.
“Don't fucking make them?” Regulus asks.
���All good mistakes come in threes,” James corrects, a third finger now being held up.
“No one says that.”
“Maybe they should.”
“No, James,” Regulus shakes his head and leans back, putting some distance between himself and James. Or trying to, at least. “This is a bad idea and we both know it.”
James just leans into him more. Regulus goes a little cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. His focus is drawn to James’ lips instead. He remembers them pink and bitten. Stretched wide, spit clicking the corners.
“Come on, baby,” James hedges. “No more mistakes. Just me and you. And I'll be so good for you, good to you, I swear.”
His voice is molten honey, hot and sweet, and it sticks to Regulus’ skin like a physical thing.
And Regulus only has so much resolve. He unclenches his fists, allowing himself to reach out and touch. But the smooth fabric of James’ sweater is a poor substitute for the thing he really craves. It buzzes in his veins, a steady hum that's getting increasingly harder to ignore. There is no alcohol in his system to blur the lines he'd once drawn, he steps over them with his eyes wide open.
“You're addicting, you know that?” Regulus murmurs, mouth a few scant inches from James’. “Just can't fucking quit you. You and your Jamesness.”
Before James can reply, Regulus curls a hand over James’ throat and tugs him into a kiss. The buzzing in his veins quiets immediately, satisfaction rushing through them instead. It’s heady, kissing James again, even though it’s only been a couple of hours since their last kiss. James really is addicting. And Regulus is a weak, weak man.
---
is that a phone in your pocket or are you happy to see me [group • 4 members]
reg: hey guys....
evan: you're an embarrassment
barty: @panda send the fuckinf list
pandora: reasons why regulus should keep his dick in his pants and out of his ex [file type: PDF • 53 pages]
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gaysindistress · 4 months
Text
Limits of a Fae Heart - one
All ive been reading is ACOTAR fics for the last 9 days so here’s a lil something for our shadow baby boy Az. two | three | four | five | six
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“We’ll take it from here,” a rich smoky voice calls from behind me. The two sentinels shuffles around, nervous with this new arrival and both reach for the swords strapped to their hips. I look over my shoulder to see a shadowy figure emerging from the treeline. From this distance, all I can tell is that it’s a towering form blurred by a vaporous mist that blends in with the darkness around us. A shiver pricks up my spine at the sight of the mist as memories of the King of Hybern’s men chasing me come flooding back. They never spoke to me, only jeering and laughing, so I know that this figure isn’t one of them but the fear still finds a home in my stomach.
My hand itches to reach for the black blade I used to wear but there’s nothing. I have no weapons and am only clothed in a thin white nightgown, making me feel vulnerable in a way that I detest. All I have is my body language and my words so I straighten my back and square my shoulders before turning to face the figure.
“Stop where you are. You are not welcome here,” the taller sentinel shouts to the shadowy figure and it stills a few feet from me.
I can’t see much without the sun but the lightning illuminates enough for me. The first thing I see is the small smirk that plays on parted pink lips, revealing straight white teeth.
“I am welcome anywhere that I please,” that stupidly smooth voice response and my eyes tear away from the lips to meet a pair of stunning hazel eyes that I will never forget. From beneath long lashes, the most soul piercing eyes make me their sole focus. In them green outer rings fade into golden brown pools that reminds me of the trees back home. Something about them warms the freeze that’s set into my body while also setting off every alarm bell inside of my head.
“Leave before we escort you back to your court of nightmares,” the sentinel shouts again but neither the figure nor I acknowledge her.
The figure takes another step towards me so I can see more of him as the sky streaks with more flashes of lightening. My eyes fall to the ground from the bright light and they land on his feet. Black leather boots cling to his legs while leathery scales act as a second skin and protect every inch of his body. He’s wearing Illyrian fighting leathers.
The recognition of my people’s armor stings worse than it did when I was cut down.
His skin is a golden tan, only furthering my suspicion that he’s Illyrian but the massive wings that sprout from his back are the true indicator. I pry my eyes from them and continue to take in every detail as I reach his face. Short dark hair falls over his forehead and curls over his ears as the sharpness of his face becomes too perfect. He is tall and sculpted, honed muscles seem to make up his entire body. Everything about him is too perfect, too sculptured, too attractive. The hair on the back of my neck stands on high alert and I find myself backing away from him without realizing.
The sentinel voice breaks my trance, “Shadowsinger, leave at once.”
His smirk turns into a devastatingly beautiful smile at the mention of his name as his eyes shift over to the men but they find me again within seconds.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Y/N,” he says to me and me alone. Once again a hand is offered to me but this time I want to take it and I almost would have if someone hadn’t seized me from behind. I let out a shout, albeit cracked from being silent so long and struggle against the strong arms that encircle me.
“Quiet, we’re helping you,” a low male voice whispers into my ear.
“Don’t move,” he mutters to me and pulls me further away as the sentinels frantically look between the two Illyrian males and me.
“Hold onto me,” he instructs as he flares his wings out and spins me so we’re chest to chest. This male has the same hazel eyes and tan skin as the other but there’s a roughness to him. He winks at me, no doubt teasing me for staring and then he shoots up into the sky. He takes us high above the island that I must have been buried on and only stops to hover when we are a safe distance away. Below us, the sentinels and the other male are but specks of light and dark.
A flash of lightening strikes close to us and the male holding me curses under his breath. He mutters an apology to me before we’re encased in a cloud of black mist and my knees meet cold stone floors. I tumble out of his arms, gasping for air and gagging all at once. His muffled chuckle makes me more angry than I am sick and I clamor to my feet. Searching for something to use as a weapon, I find a vase on a nearby table and hurdle it at him. He ducks and the other male appears behind him, subsequently being hit with the vase. He’s able to cover his face and it shatters on his forearms, sending shards of clay everywhere.
A third male voice calls out, “I specifically remember telling you to not piss her off, Cassian.”
A shudder races across my body at the sound of his voice. The High Lord of the Night Court comes to stand beside the rough male, Cassian while the other, the one the sentinels called the Shadowsinger brushes off hits of clay.
“I didn’t do anything,” Cassian says with his hands held up in defense and shakes his head. “We willowed here and she probably got sick, hence throwing the vase.”
The High Lord arches a dark brow and turns to the other male, “what about you, Azriel?”
Azriel.
The Shadowsinger. He is name is Azriel.
Now I can see that the black vapor around him are really shadows, twisting and moving around his body. They reach towards me as a hum begins to vibrate in deep inside the void of my chest. Long ago a similar hum lived there but the male it was tied to had done terrible things and destroyed it. The golden warmth that once filled me was stolen when he betrayed me and left me to bleed out on that island.
I narrow my eyes at the shadows and Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, causing them to flinch away. Rhysand glances between us, obviously sensing the internal conflict happening between us and opens his mouth to speak.
“You should’ve left me alone,” I hiss before he can say anything.
Azriel stiffens and Cassian steps closer to him. Rhysand clears his throat and speaks, “we need your help.”
“Whatever trivial matter you’ve gotten yourself tangled in isn’t any of my concern. You should’ve left me alone on that island.”
“You were stuck between…” Rhysand tries again but I interpret him.
“I may have been stuck between this life and the next but at least I wouldn’t have been mates with yet another male who just wants to use me.”
Azriel blinks slowly at me and his jaw tightens at my words. Cassian and Rhysand both draw in sharp breaths. They shoot confused glances to each other before Cassian grabs ahold of Azriel and attempts to drag him away.
Rhysand steps towards me, placing himself between me and his brothers. His voice is quiet and softer than I expected as he asks, “You have a second mate?”
I don’t answer but my fleeting glance to the silent male behind him is enough.
“Impossible,” he mumbles under his breath with a shake of his head. His piercing violet eyes find mine, searching my hallow ones. “That’s impossible.”
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