#and she made a cross like you would when praying lol
Text
today was weird.. I ended up sobbing in the bathroom at work while these two little girls sharing the large handicap stall made disgusting fart sounds with their mouths.. it felt so surreal
#norm.allie#i ended up only having 3 tables#idk why my boss asked me to come in#bc its not like we were busy.. like#my mom and the other server took more tables than me#see i took one bc i was told that by 5:30 if we were still slow#they wouldve sent the host home and put me as host#but they stayed for a while#and i was like ok just give my mom and frankie the next tables#with the hopes of being host and making minimum wage#but felt stupid passing up all these tables like..#idk..#so i was like why am i here and that made me bawl and bawl idk#i am on ny period so thats part of it#i hate that all my coworkers saw me crying my eyes out lol#one my managers was like are you ok#and i was like yea i will be im just on my period and w/e#and she made a cross like you would when praying lol#like godspeed... lol
1 note
·
View note
Text
Doctor's Orders
before i say anything else, huge thank you to @victoria-styles for the idea and inspiration, i really hope you enjoy.
WC: 2.8k
warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (fingering), extremely inappropriate relationship with gynecologist (just a work of fiction if your gyno starts to finger you please call the cops lol)
Your eyes and ears are completely tuned in to the sound of the clock ticking on the wall next to the big flat-screen TV. You obsessively check the time every couple of minutes in anxiety that your appointment will come sooner than you thought.
As soon as you made the appointment you regretted it. You’re an incredibly shy person, you keep to yourself and your two friends that you made in college who never strayed. And you know that it’s so dumb and so childish and irresponsible, but the mere idea of having to go to a place where a person sticks something up your parts is just too much for you.
Your fingers are starting to feel raw from picking at them and you tilt your head up to the ceiling and blow out a frustrated breath. You wish your anxiety didn’t make doing everyday, human things so difficult for you. It’s even worse that the only time you’ve come to the gynecologist, it’s for something you deem kind of embarrassing.
One day, you got home from work, exhausted and irritated, you got under the covers, imagined your favorite sexy scenario, waited for the sparks, and…nothing. Just nothing. It felt like you were trying to finish for hours and hours and you got nothing. And since then, nothing’s been able to do it for you. And for some anxiety-boggotten reason, you absolutely refuse to buy a sexy toy online or anything like that. Some crazy part of your mind thinks that the Amazon driver knows exactly what you would have in there and you can’t bear to see their face when they hand you your package.
So after a grueling couple of months, you finally caved, and here you are, at the gynecologist.
The sound of a door opening tears your attention away from the clock, and your heart immediately drops, a pit forming deep in your stomach. You almost want to squeeze your eyes shut and cross your fingers in hopes that your name isn’t called, but you’re in public, so you don’t. Instead, you hold your breath and look at the lady who just came out, praying that it isn’t you.
She calls your name. You release a breath.
“That’s me.” Your voice comes out shaky. She’s looking down at her tablet as you walk up to her but when she looks up, it’s like she notices your nervousness and gives you a sympathetic but encouraging smile.
She takes you back and sits you down in a chair, “just gonna take your vitals, honey.” Her voice is soothing, like a mother, and you’re glad she’s the person you’re interacting with before the doctor that you’re so scared about. You look around the room as she does her work and you notice, the place is decorated really nicely. As if it had a woman’s touch. You know that more than one doctor works here, but you wonder if yours is going to be a woman, honestly that would make you feel a little better.
She finishes rather quickly after asking you some questions about your medical history and things of the sort, and then her cadence changes, “Is it okay if I touch you?” She asks. You frown in confusion but nod. She places her hand on your arm and squeezes, “I know that this is your first time and I can tell that you’re really nervous, but trust me, Dr. Styles is the best we’ve got. He’s incredibly professional and kind, he’ll make you feel comfortable. And it’s better for you if you relax anyway.” She smiles gently, giving your arm one last squeeze before she picks up her stuff and walks towards the door.
Before she leaves, she turns around, leaning against the slightly ajar door, and shoots you a teasing smirk, “I’ll make sure to tell him to be extra gentle with you, dear.” And with that, she leaves. She’s sweet. And she definitely made you feel much better about the whole thing.
It’s only a couple minutes of just a little internal freaking out before the door opens and your senses are automatically overtaken with a waft of strong cologne.
“Alright…what do we have here…ah!” Your name falls perfectly from his lips, and an involuntary smile graces your face at his apparent goofy nature and the smile only grows when he grins back at you, dimples poking in his stubbly cheeks.
“How are you feeling today? Hannah told me you were looking a bit nervous before. Has any of that subsided or do I need to do some breathing exercises with you?” He quips brilliantly. I guess being a doctor he’s well aware that laughter is the best medicine.
“I’m doing okay, actually. Much better.” Your voice comes out soft, unable to get it any louder than that. He gives you an approving smile and then offers his hand out for you to shake it.
“M’name is Dr. Harry Styles. You can call me Harry, Dr. Styles, or Doc. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m personally fine with it all. I know your name already and…” he blows out a breath with his eyes comically wide “...basically your entire medical history so I think it’s safe to say we’re well acquainted!” You take his hand and shake it softly, a small giggle leaving your lips. You don’t miss the way he glances down at the contact. His hand feels nice. And you know it’s weird to be thinking that about your doctor, especially when that same hand will probably be somewhere near your genitals in the next couple of minutes, but his hand feels really nice against yours. Calloused and sturdy, yet gentle and soft.
You appreciate how he immediately got in tune with how cracking jokes made you more comfortable. It feels like extra effort to you and a warm feeling blooms in your chest at how attentive he is. You can tell that he cares about his patients and takes pride in his job, and it makes you feel so much more comfortable.
“Okay m’darling. Says you’re here for a regular check up. Are you sure there’s no concerns? Nothing we should be worryin’ about? S’more helpful if you tell me now so I know what to look for.” His hand goes out to motion you to lie down on the examination table. You oblige and he grins at you again, waiting for your response.
“Oh um…it’s nothing really just a very minor issue…” his eyes flick down to the movement of you fidgeting with your fingers and he presses his lips together and sighs, he looks up at you for permission before he takes your hands in his and starts to press them out with his.
“This is okay, yeah?” he questions softly, nodding along with you when you nod, “I absolutely need you to relax, darling. This’ll be so much easier if you’re relaxed and calm. Need you to loosen up. Do that for me?”
You nod and try your best to follow his instructions. Something about his hands on yours and his gentle voice filling your ears only makes it that much easier. And you have a feeling he knows that.
“There you go, honey. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.”
“I just…ever since like a month ago, I haven’t really been able to um…finish. And ever since then I’ve barely been able to get turned on… or wet. Is that normal? Because I was fine before but all of a sudden I just…couldn’t anymore. It just feels like something might be wrong with me.” You let out a huge breath after you’ve finally revealed your problem. And as much as it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, it also terrifies you what his reaction is going to be.
He doesn’t even blink. You imagine he’s dealt with things like this before, and you’re not surprised that he has little to no reaction. It’s literally his job. You figure you shouldn’t have been this nervous to begin with.
“Don’t worry m’darling. We’ll figure it out.” he coos, his thumbs rubbing softly on your knuckles, “alright. Let’s get started shall we?”
You had already put your surgical gown on before he got here so all he has to do is lift the bottom up and get to business. And that’s exactly what he does. He puts his gloves on and lifts your gown on, his brows furrowed in concentration and his lips pursed in a cute pout.
He feels around, brushing his fingers through your folds. You jerk when his fingers brush your clit in a feather-light touch. He rolls his lips into his mouth briefly and you suddenly wish a hole would open right now and swallow you into the floor. You try not to, but you can’t stop ogling his concentrated face. He bites the inside of his cheek and squints his eyes slightly as he takes a closer look, “s’perfect, honey. Everything looks fine.”
“Gotta figure out what’s going on with you though, hm?” He looks you right in the eyes as he says it, his hand resting on your thigh dangerously close to your cunt and you nod quickly, taking deep breaths in as quietly as you can. Something about the way he’s looking at you, handling you, talking to you, it’s got your stomach warming, and your core tingling in a way that you’ve sorely missed. He’s touching you like he wants you.
He gently talks you through the speculum, using his hand rubbing softly on your thigh and his voice to calm you down. After he’s done he praises you softly and heat blooms in your chest.
“Still shy on me?” he teases, turning around. He starts to fiddle with his things on the desk, picking a bottle of lube and squeezing it on his finger. You immediately hold a breath. This is the part where he’ll actually be inside you. All words that you could have said in response to his teasing are immediately stolen from your lips, all you can do is wait there in anticipation as he gets himself ready for you.
“M’kay, darling”, he returns to you, placing his free hand on your thigh, “just gonna check on you. That okay?”
“Mhm.” You feel like an idiot, unable to speak to your literal doctor because for some reason he’s got you feeling things you haven’t felt in months.
“I’d prefer it if you used your words.”
“Yes, Dr. Styles.” You manage to get the words out and he offers you a proud grin. When he pulls your gown up again, he sucks in a breath, his pupils dilating. He looks back up at you and it’s like you can feel the condescension in his gaze before he even opens his mouth.
“Oh honey…nothing’s wrong with you.” He strokes his finger through your folds, eyes honed in on your cunt and a far-away look in his eyes as if he’s mesmerized by it. He presses his fingers at your entrance and you suck in a breath, “you’re okay, honey. S’okay.” He soothes you as he slowly slides his finger in. Both of your mouths part from the tight stretch. A soft puff of breath leaves his lips and a soft moan leaves yours.
The second the sound leaves your mouth, your cheeks flame in embarrassment, you whisper out a slew of apologies and he only shushes you. His thumb on his free hand stroking your thigh soothingly. His finger leaves you until it reaches the knuckle, then it pushes right back into you, ripping a sharp gasp from your throat.
“Shh shh. Just takin’ care of you like I’m supposed to.” He curls his finger up inside of you and a shaky moan leaves your throat. As soon as he hits that sensitive spot inside you, it’s like all of the orgasms you could’ve been having in the past few months come back to consume you tenfold. Your jaw hangs open as he starts to move his fingers faster, playing with you like a damn fiddle.
“How’s that feel, honey? Feels like you’re better already. Made such a mess and you’re already squeezing me so tight.” Every word that leaves his lips goes straight to your cunt, his husky deep voice releases a cage of butterflies in your stomach, and when he coaxes a second finger inside of you and adjusts his hand so his thumb rubs against your clit, it immediately feels as if you’re about to burst.
“Oh god—Dr. Styles.” You shriek out.
“Harry, honey. Say Harry. Say m’name while I’m making you cum.” He demands, his fingers fucking you harder and robbing the breath from your lungs. You manage to stutter out his name and an approving groan leaves his lips, “look at you, honey, following the doctor’s orders. Such a good girl.”
The warm feeling brews in your tummy before it starts to spread and bloom in your whole body. Your body tenses up to brace yourself for the intense amounts of pleasure you know you’re about to feel and a staccato of moans leaves your bitten lips.
“Don’t fight it, honey. Let yourself have it. You deserve this.” It’s amazing how he can expertly coax you through an expressively powerful climax with his words, he knows exactly what to say to you and what tone to say it in to make you putty in his hands, “know you’ve needed this for so long. S’been so hard, hm? Bet this pussy was aching without someone to take care of it. Let me take care of it, darling. Cum all over my fingers like I know you can.”
You can almost taste it, it climbs and it climbs, your stomach tensing and your thighs shaking, each firm rub against your g-spot makes you crumble and it swirls and sparks in your tummy. Light tremors turn into full-body shudders when the build-up of pleasure finally explodes like an earthquake. You moan brokenly, your voice cracking as you gasp for air and let yourself feel the pleasure you’ve been missing.
He talks you through it, leading you through the most powerful orgasm you think you’ve ever had. You instantly feel the tension leave your body with it. He takes away all the pent-up frustration and dissatisfaction with every word and movement of his hand.
It’s when he keeps going that it begins to border on the painful side of painful pleasure. That sexy concentrated look is back on his face as he pulses his fingers faster inside you with a second wind of determination.
A pained whine leaves your throat and your hand shoots out to grab his arm. You attempt to tug him away and squirm away from his touch, but he doesn’t relent. He uses his other hand to pin you down and your other hand shoots up to your mouth so the scream that you let out isn’t heard throughout the whole office.
“Take it. We’ve got to make sure you’re better. Cum again for me.” Your legs shake uncontrollably. You’ve never felt pleasure so intense that it hurts before, and it’s making you feel like your brain has liquified. You fully give in to him, your body submits and you let him play with your body exactly how he wants.
Before you know it, he’s driven you over the peak again. Your head falls back onto the exam table, thoroughly exhausted. He smiles gently at you, so innocent and nonchalant, as if he didn’t just completely ruin you on his fingers a minute before. His pointer finger brushes against your cheek before his hand cradles your face.
“You’re all better then, yeah?” His voice is soft and comforting, it fills your tummy with warmth, and you suddenly have the urge to let him talk to you sleep as he holds you right here on the exam table, “think you’re my new favorite patient.” He whispers with a smirk.
He lets you get up and shakily put back on your clothes. And in all honesty, you’re surprised you can walk right now.
He took such good care of you. You naturally feel indebted to him and you start to thank him but he just holds up his hand and stops you with an incredulous look on his face.
“No need to thank me, darling. Just doing my job.” He assures. “The only thanks I need is you coming back here next time you need my help.”
After all your stuff is packed and you’re walking towards the door of the exam room, his voice stops you. You turn around to face him and you’re met with his gorgeous face. He wears a gentle smile but teasing eyes. When he speaks you immediately know that his words have promise written between the lines.
“Drive safe, honey. M’looking forward to your next appointment.”
#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry smut#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Haunting Me
[Legolas/F!Reader]
A.N: I have been struggling to write (like usual), so I figured I would whip out a no pressure Legolas fic. ANYWAYS, I strangely loved writing this!!! Thanks for the request XOXO
Request: @goose-gremlin — “Could you maybe do a Legolas x Reader on their period?”
Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader
Summary: The Reader is a member of Greenwood's Guard and is struggling with menstrual/period pain. Legolas takes care of her.
Disclaimer: I don't know elvish. I use the gracious elvish dictionary. Sue me lol
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: blood, menstruation/period, pain, PMS, slight nakedness (not anything spicy you filthy fools), fluff, sweet precious elf boy
MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD
(Y/N)’s nose twitched, the pungent, musty scent of the incoming vile beasts invaded the fresh earthy tones of the Greenwood forest. Her keen ears picked up on subtle scurrying, the sound carried by the drift of the soft wind. Her jaw clenched and her fingers adjusted the grasp of her sword as she felt the aura of the trees shift—a surge of adrenaline fueling her anxiety, worsening the pain in her abdomen. Briefly locking eyes with the other elves in her sector, spread among the trees alert and ready, she knew their moment of action was imminent.
(Y/N) summoned the little energy she had through a deep inhale, praying to the Valar that these spiders wouldn't be in such a frenzied state. Because, if so, fuck that. For at the present moment in time, she really didn't have the capacity to deal with that absolute, motherfucking horseshit.
Because, truly, getting killed due to slowness from fatigue and cramps from one’s bloodmoon cycle would be rather unfortunate and deeply regrettable. However, facing expulsion from the guard and losing her reputation as one of the hand-picked defenders of the royal line because of it would be even worse.
(Y/N)’s gaze narrowed as Prince Legolas, leader of the Greenwood Guard, raised a closed fist.
Nêl (Three).
Tâd (Two).
Mîn (One).
He opened his palm, signaling the command: Kill them. Kill them all.
With a firm thud, (Y/N)'s boots landed on the soft soil as she sprung from the trees. She was quick with her blade, hunting the spiders as if they were meaningless prey. Her weapon was an extension of her form. Every movement was fluid and graceful, a testament to her mastery of combat. Despite her pain, she spun and twisted with ease, severing the arachnids' limbs effortlessly.
As she fought, she made sure to keep an eye on the Prince, knowing that if anything were to happen to Legolas under her watch, the king would surely banish her. Besides, she harbored no desire for him to meet his demise. She found him rather…admirable. Nothing more than that—of course not.
As (Y/N) advanced upon one of the vile beasts, her senses tingled with warning. Abruptly, she halted in her tracks, narrowly dodging an arrow that whizzed past her stomach. Her eyes narrowed as she wiped her head to see just who fired that arrow. A scoff escaped her lips as she locked eyes with him: Rekón.
When the battle came to an end, (Y/N) strutted towards Rekón, who was wiping the edge of his blade upon his thigh.
“What the hell was that out there?!” She snapped at him.
“What is it you speak of?”
“You nearly put an arrow in me!”
He shrugged. “Perhaps, you should have been faster, Shadowfoot.”
She scoffed at Greenwood’s nickname for her. “You're lucky I am fast. I can assume you don’t want elven blood on your hands—especially my blood.
He sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. “Don’t exaggerate, (Y/N). It’s unbecoming. Besides,” he leaned in and his voice lowered, taking on a snarky tone, “I don't care if you're handpicked by the King to be the Prince’s shadow, you're a pain in the ass.”
“Really, Otuuk Fe`Saign (warg kisser)?! I could have you and your ass in the mud faster than you could say—”
The rather tense interaction was interrupted by Legolas clearing his throat beside the pair. “What is going on over here?” he demanded.
(Y/N) huffed, not taking her eyes off the man before her. “Rekón here nearly redecorated my abdomen with a fucking arrow!”
The Prince sighed. “You know we can’t always calculate every motion on the battlefield, (Y/N). I am sure Rekón meant no harm.” He paused, turning his attention to the ellon. “Rekón, in the future, mind your arrows.”
“That’s the reprimand he gets?! Are you fu—“
Legolas looked at the elleth. “Watch your language, Shadowfoot. I expect this attitude to be gone by the time we enter my father’s halls.”
With that, Legolas walked away, calling out orders to burn the spider carcasses and move out.
As he disappeared into the mess of elves, (Y/N)’s brows pulled downward in a grumpy frown. “Princeling Ass,” she murmured to herself.
Unbeknownst to her, as she turned away, Legolas' gaze followed her, seeking out her form and lingering as she walked away.
….
The sun had not yet risen when the Prince’s sector of the Greenwood Guard arrived back in the Palace. The warriors dispersed into the armory, diligently stowing their weapons and armor in their designated places. (Y/N), however, did no such thing. Instead, with a persistent scowl etched on her face, she marched through the room and passed through the arched exit of the armory—presumably heading towards her chambers. Legolas's gaze tracked her suspiciously as she departed.
As the day progressed, the members of the Prince’s sector resumed their usual routines. Because it was their first day back from patrol, they were exempt from basic guard duties and standard positions. Instead, they utilized the early hours of the morning to bathe and rejuvenate themselves before gathering in the dining hall for breakfast. The remainder of the day was theirs to unwind and compile their patrol reports—the King sought to stay informed about all occurrences and perspectives during patrols, for a darkness seemed to be spreading among his trees.
At supper, Legolas moved among the tables in the dining hall, gathering last-minute reports from the warriors in his sector. As he did so, he scanned the long wooden benches, searching for the scowling gaze that had accompanied the last couple of days of patrol; however, there was no such gaze and no such person that it belonged to. Simply put, there was no sign of (Y/N).
She had missed all three meals and had failed to submit her patrol report.
Legolas cleared his throat before he addressed the elves from whom he was collecting papers. “Have you seen Shadowfoot? I need her report,” he inquired.
They shook their heads, more interested in their food than one missing shadow.
Legolas sighed, but refrained from pressing further. If anyone knew her whereabouts, they would have mentioned it.
Therefore, he made his way to her quarters.
When he arrived, he knocked softly on the door, but was met with silence.
"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying through the wooden barrier.
Still, there was no response.
After a moment’s hesitation, Legolas reached for the door knob and twisted it slowly. The wood swung open quietly under his touch, exposing the darkness of the room beyond. Moonlight filtered in through the opened window, casting shadows that danced across the floor, the curtains billowing gently in the cold night air.
Legolas carefully stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him. As he took in his surroundings further, surprise crossed his features. He didn't know what he had been expecting since he hadn't been in (Y/N)’s quarters, but it most certainly was not this.
The room was a complete mess. Clothing lay strewn about, along with various trinkets—small hand-carved boxes, beautiful natural rocks, and melted candles absent of flame. Several stacks of books were piled beside the bed, a few of them open and their pages still. Her weapons were scattered haphazardly, some resting on the floor, others on the table or atop the dresser. Legolas even noticed a few knives embedded into the wooden door—a sight that would surely displease Ada.
It was chaotic but calm in a sort of strange way. Typical for (Y/N), he supposed.
The Prince moved to walk further into the room, but was quickly halted against his will. His foot had gotten caught and, if it wasn't for his swift reflexes, he would have face-planted upon the stone flooring.
Legolas sucked in a sharp breath as he stabilized his form. Glancing down, he discovered the culprit—a crumpled tunic tangled around his boot, its fabric caught between the lacings.
He immediately sighed in dismay.
The blond-haired Prince reached down to untangle the stubborn garment. It proved to be a more challenging task than he had anticipated, requiring a few moments of quiet curses and annoyed grunts before he managed to free himself. Carefully, he folded the fabric and placed it upon a nearby chair.
Cautiously, he advanced to the large bed. At first, he could not spot the warrior within, given that the fluffy comforter and mountain of pillows were blocking his view. However, when he pulled back the blankets slightly, sure enough, she was buried deep within. The pillows were arranged around her like a protective nest and she was laying on her side. Her hair was splattered across the cushioned fabric and her expression was…one of pain. Her brows were pulled tight, her nose crinkled, and lips slightly parted.
At this, Legolas frowned, for he was now troubled deeply.
Diligently, the Prince reached out to brush some hair from her face, but just as his fingers made contact with her cheek, his action was interrupted.
(Y/N) suddenly sat up, a knife in hand. With wild eyes, she tried to slam it into his carotid artery.
He reacted quickly, Legolas intercepted her arm, preventing the blade from reaching its target. For a moment, they both froze in that tense position, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they processed what was happening.
(Y/N) was breathing quickly and she appeared very disheveled and confused. It seemed to take her a moment longer to grasp the situation fully.
"Jukkete (fuck)," she breathed out, trying to catch her breath before snapping at him. "Legolas, I almost killed you!"
The Prince still held her wrist. “(Y/N),” he began, “Are you alright?”
She huffed. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that, Princeling!" With a sharp twist, she pulled away from his grasp and settled back into the blankets. “What are you doing here?”
He raised his brows. “Princeling?” he questioned, a hint of amusement in his tone.
(Y/N) only grunted in response.
He sighed. “No one has seen you all day and—“ his sentence abruptly halted as he noticed a red stain upon the comforter. “(Y/N), you are bleeding!” He exclaimed. Without hesitation, he grasped at the blankets, in an attempt to detangle her form from them, as he continued his babbling of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured on patrol?!”
“Legolas,” she interrupted, her voice firm.
“Is it from Rekón’s arrow?! I thought you said he ‘nearly’ hit you?”
“Legolas,” she tried again.
He yanked the blanket further.” Because I swear to the Valar if it was from him, I will—“
“Legolas! Stop!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not injured.”
His jaw clenched in frustration. “(Y/N), I have been a warrior for all my life, I know the site of blood. That is blood. You cannot lie to me. I am your sector leader, your Prince—“
“Legolas! It’s my bloodmoon cycle!” she interrupted, sitting up to glare at him once more.
An awkward silence settled into the dark room.
“You are in pain,” he stated.
“I’m fine.”
His brows raised again. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you're a princeling ass,” she retorted.
“No. Because for the last three days of patrol, your demeanor has been notably irritable, as you are now. You've been favoring your left side, your jaw has remained tightly clenched, and your skin a shade too pale. Not to mention, you've consistently had your hand on your hip, I'm assuming in an attempt to try and alleviate discomfort, and you even vomited behind a tree on two occasions. And, here you are, Shadowfoot, in bed, sleeping the day away in dirty clothes and not caring that you lay in blood.” He paused before finalizing his evidence. “You are in pain.”
“You have been spying on me?! I am supposed to be your shadow.”
“I have been keeping an eye on you,” he clarified.
“Why?!”
The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Because you are a member of my sector. You are my responsibility.”
“You are my responsibility,” she corrected.
He released hot air from his nose. “I am required to keep an eye on all of my warriors, whether they were hand-picked to guard me or not.”
(Y/N) huffed, shaking her head. “Did you know Sethna took a pretty nasty hit to her leg?”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” he gruffed.
“Legolas, did you know about it or not?”
A rather long moment of silence extended into the night before the Prince reluctantly responded in a low tone. “No.”
“Then you don't watch every warrior like you watch me.”
He inhaled slowly, trying to steer the conversation away from what (Y/N) was insinuating. “Is Sethna alright?”
“Yeah, she’s fine.”
Legolas nodded slowly, before returning to the main topic. “Why didn't you tell me you were in pain while on patrol?”
She rolled her eyes before muttering his name. “Legolas.”
“Why haven't you seen a healer?” he persisted.
She exhaled slowly, knowing Legolas wasn't going to let this go. “Because the healers document everything, and those records get attached to evaluations.”
“So?”
“So, I would be dismissed from the guard and relieved of my position!” she snapped.
He snorted lightly. “You would not be dismissed from the guard nor relieved of your position.”
“Others have gotten so for far less!”
Surprising her, his normally collected tone turned into a rough reply. “That doesn't mean that you would have!”
She frowned, her once loud voice now subdued. “What's that supposed to mean?”
He sent her a warning look, his eyes cautioning her against probing further.
Silence reigned for a third time that night before Legolas spoke softly. “Rest. I will draw you a bath.”
“Princeling, I do not need you to draw me a bath. I do not need a bath at all. Like I said, I am fine.”
He shook his head. “You are in pain. Let me help you.”
“Legolas–”
He cut her off. “(Y/N), do not try to argue with me on this. That is an order. Shadow or not, I am your superior and you will listen.”
With that, he stood and made his way into the bathing chambers, leaving the elleth alone with her thoughts.
She let out a slow, contemplative exhale before sinking back into the embrace of the bed once more. Lost in a haze of exhaustion, she must have drifted into a brief slumber, for it was only moments later that Legolas returned, his thumb brushing against her cheek. His voice, barely above a whisper, reached her ears. “(Y/N),” he urged softly. “Come. The water is hot. It will alleviate your pain.”
Groggily, she opened her eyes, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow.
“Come,” he repeated.
Gradually, she sat upwards, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, praying to the Valar for the pain to settle.
“If the pain is too much, I can carry you,” Legolas offered in a gentle tone.
She scoffed, her eyes opening to glare at him. “I can manage on my own.”
With that declaration, (Y/N) stood up and took a few cautious steps forward. But before she could proceed further, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as the agony surged through her body, causing her to double over.
A comforting warmth enveloped her lower back as Legolas placed a reassuring hand there. He remained silent, respecting her pace and refraining from pressing his earlier offer.
A small whimper escaped her lips, tears threatening to escape from her eyes.
Legolas’ hand began to move in soft circles. “It will pass, Shadowfoot. I am here,” he whispered.
Slowly, she resumed her movement, inching her way towards the bathroom. Upon reaching the basin's edge, she gripped onto the sides tightly. She squeezed her lids shut once more, focusing on her breath.
Standing only inches behind her, Legolas spoke softly. “(Y/N), please, will you let me assist you? I hate to see you suffer.”
She exhaled through her nose, seemingly debating his offer. After a moment of contemplation, she relented. “Fine,” she stated, “but if you breathe a word of this—”
“I will not say a thing. I swear it,” he assured.
She nodded, accepting his promise.
“Let's get you undressed and in the bath then.”
With caution, his nimble fingers found the hem of her tunic and began to lift it over her head. Ensuring her stability by placing one hand gently on her hip, he then carefully guided her trousers downward, assisting her as she stepped out of them. Shaking slightly, she lifted each foot into the tub, one at a time, as the Prince's firm hand remained securely on her waist. Slowly, she lowered herself into the water, his touch barely trailing up her back as she descended. Her eyes closed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips, settling into the soothing heat of the water.
Legolas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will just be in the other room. Call out if you need me.”
She simply hummed in response.
The Prince swiftly left the bathing room, making his way to the door leading to the hallway. Peering out, he caught sight of a maid. He called out to her and motioned for her to approach.
“Yes, my lord?” she inquired politely.
“I need you to fetch a new set of bedding and obtain the following herbs: valerian, boswellia, and athelas,” he instructed.
She nodded in understanding.
“And please, keep it discreet. I have an injured warrior in here who wishes for the injury to remain quiet.”
The maid nodded once more before hurrying off to fulfill his requests.
Legolas returned to the room, feeling the cool breeze from the open window once more. With determined strides, he crossed the space and closed it firmly, halting the chill from entering any longer. He then took to light some of the candles, casting a warm glow within the room before moving to the empty fireplace. He quickly grabbed kindling and wood from the basket beside the silent hearth, setting to task. Before long, the flames crackled loudly among the stone, radiating a comforting warmth that dispelled the lingering chill.
It was then when the maid entered, a large basket brimming with fluffy fabric in her arms. Placing it beside the bed, she then retrieved a pouch from the top. Approaching the Prince, she bowed her head. “The herbs you asked for, my lord.”
“Thank you,” he replied, accepting them graciously.
The maid took to changing the sheets, making no mention of the blood. Legolas cleared a space upon the table in (Y/N)’s room. Placing a cast iron pot—one of which was kept in each room—over the now vibrant flames, he filled it with water from a pitcher. As the water began to boil, he used a small bowl to grind the fresh herbs into a paste with a pestle. Once sufficiently smashed, he ladled some of the boiling water over it and allowed the mixture of herbs to steep, filling the air with its earthy aroma.
The maid, having finished her task of making the bed and straightening up, bid an awkward farewell to the Prince before exiting the room.
Legolas sighed, taking a seat in the chair beside the table, his ears attuned to any sounds from (Y/N)'s direction—just in case.
Nearly 45 minutes passed before she emerged from the bathroom. She was clothed in soft trousers and a loose top that hung off her shoulder, her hand pressed lightly against her abdomen.
“How do you feel?” he inquired, breaking the quietness of the night.
She turned her head towards him. “You are still here?” Her gaze swept across the room, trailing off as she took in the sight of the lit candles, crackling fire, and fresh bedding.
Abandoning the chair, he approached her and gently put his hand upon her bicep. “How is the pain, (Y/N)?”
As if suddenly drawn from her thoughts, she registered that he was indeed beside her. “I, uh, it has lessened a bit.”
He nodded, guiding her to the bed. Pulling back the clean sheets, he motioned for her to get in. Surprisingly, she complied, settling into the comfort of the fresh lavender scent emanating from the blankets and pillows.
Legolas briefly left her side before returning with a cup of tea, mixed from the healing herbs. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he lifted the cup to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip. “Drink this. It will help.”
The steam kissed her face as she took the cup from him. As she drank, the warm liquid flowed down her throat and into her stomach, providing instant comfort. When she finished, she passed the cup back to him. “How do you know how to make such a tonic?”
The Prince placed the cup upon the side table. “My father used to care for my mother during her bloodmoon cycle, before she passed from this world. She too had excruciating pain. He taught me the right herbs to mix, the benefits of heat, and—” he paused, his hand moving to her lower back, where he began to massage lightly. “—what points to press to alleviate pain.”
She exhaled slowly, letting her eyes flutter closed.
“He had said, ‘One day, you will have a wife who too suffers such pain. This you must learn for her.’ And I listened.”
(Y/N) did not open her eyes. “I am not your wife.”
Before he could stop himself, his lips betrayed his secrets. “You could be.”
At this, she opened one eye, as if she was trying to subtly evaluate what his words meant based on his body language. Sensing the sincerity upon his expression, her other eye opened too. She put her full attention on him. “What?”
His cheeks flushed, the tips of his elvish ears reddening, though the warm glow of the fire hid his embarrassment. He turned his head away. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I—I didn't mean to be so…so forward.” He hesitated, then looked back at her, seeing her flabbergasted expression. “I–I suppose there is no hiding it now. The reason I keep such close watch over you is because my heart won't let me do otherwise. I fear, well, I fear that you are not just a shadow following my path.” He exhaled softly. “(Y/N), you haunt me in the most beautiful way.”
She shifted from the pillows, drawing closer until her face was mere inches from Legolas’. “You–you care for me?” she whispered.
His hand tenderly cupped her cheek, his thumb moving in a soft motion. “More than I could ever put into words.”
“Legolas,” she whispered. “Your father did not assign me to your sector. I was supposed to be appointed to protect him. I—I requested to be assigned to you.”
The Prince’s gaze met hers. “Why, (Y/N)?”
“Because you too have been haunting me.”
Legolas wasted no time. He pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s in a gentle kiss and she responded eagerly. She tasted of herbal tea and hope, while he tasted of honey and peace. His hands gently cradled her face, while hers found their way to the back of his neck, fingers entwining in his hair. The scent of fresh lavender surrounded her, mingling with the aroma of pine that clung to him. In their embrace, their minds intertwined, both haunted by the other's presence—in the most beautiful way.
Slowly, they parted. Legolas pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before speaking softly. "Lay down. Rest. I will watch over you."
She looked up at him. “Won't you lay with me? I am cold.”
He snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like the stem of a flower being plucked from a spring meadow. “You only want me to alleviate your pain, don't you?”
She grinned back at him. “Perhaps, Princeling. Though, I did not lie, I am cold.”
With a playful roll of his eyes, Legolas kicked off his boots and drew back the covers. He allowed his body to melt against (Y/N)’s, providing warmth as he gently began to massage away her tension.
A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she snuggled further into him, eagerly stealing his warmth and accepting the pain relief he offered.
“Princeling,” she murmured, “You better not breathe a word of this either.”
He chuckled lightly, “I will not say a thing, Shadowfoot. I swear it.”
…
Everything Tag: @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @hey-its-nonny @mirclealignr @laneynoir @straysugzhpe @runningfeather @finallyforgotten @kaiawrites @commanderawkward @xxbluestrifexx @slytherinambitious @desert-fern @skairipakomtrikru @genderfluid-anime-goth @sotwk @sirenofavalon @hobbitsesoftheshire @asianbutnotjapanese @mgchaser @heavenshumour @heavenshumour @clairealeehelsing @starenemy @ceruleanrainblues @casuallyeating-blog @cheari @aheadfullofsteverogers @imthebadguyyy @beehivehappy @queenmariex @newjsns01 @dontfearrr @annoyingstrawberryballoon @caffinated-and-sleepy @california-beach-babe-kay @fxckinggxd
Everything But Spice Tag: @goldfearless @Brethil13 @insert-random-blog @cauliflowertree @heranintomyknife23times @mxmia @unethicallypleistocene @amessofmultifandom @caffinated-and-sleepy
Legolas Tag: in the comments
#vayawrites#lotr#lord of the rings#the hobbit#legolas#Legolas fic#Legolas fanfic#Legolas fanfiction#Legolas x reader#legolas/reader#legolas x y/n#legolas greenleaf#legolas drabble#Legolas imagine#legolas fics
469 notes
·
View notes
Text
skin on skin
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader
GENRE ➩ religious corruption au, church boy jake au, evil reader
WARNINGS ➩ heavy criticism of religion in an extreme exaggerated manner, manipulation, multiple smut scenes, the mc is straight up mean and evil and says mean things all the time lol. parental and spousal abuse… think that’s it maybe lol it’s an intense read
WC ➩ 20.4k (😵💫)
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ the spacing is a bit weird because apparently this exceeded the length amount in tumblr… i don’t care about your think pieces on religion or the way it’s discussed in this so please don’t try to educate me on the actual ways of christianity! it’s a story! that being said this is in no way making a mockery of jake and his religion. this is my favorite story ive ever done and i had a good time writing it which is rare lately so i really hope you enjoy it and if you make it to the end let me know what you think! hope you like it as much as i do
It wasn’t like you came out of the womb with horns and a little forked tail.
The nurses didn’t scream in terror and your mother didn’t faint at the sight of you, it wasn’t some grand discovery that anybody could see or anybody could plan for.
You made it through your formative years relatively normal, or at least as normal as you could be considering who your father was. But it wasn’t until middle school when you realized how different kids would treat you because of this.
Those were your favorite years you could remember. The half decade before anybody cared, or knew enough to care, what it meant for you to be who you were. Then you were old enough to have consciousness and design your own set of morals, something all the parents in your town dreaded.
Your town was barely that, more so a few neighborhoods sprawled across barren lands with more fields and trees than concrete and signs of the modern world that had seemingly developed everywhere, except for where you’d been born.
Sometimes you wondered if you’d been cursed to stay here forever. It seemed like everybody who was born here, died here, but unlike you they all seemed pretty content with this fact. Proud even, the elders stating the amount of years and generations they’d own their rusty old homes like it didn’t create a nasty pit in your stomach.
Time was frozen and the world had moved on, leaving all 2,000 of you behind to die and birth and die again until eventually the last generation killed themselves off in an act of sympathy, a mercy slaughter.
It was probably immoral to be thinking about your entire town dying whilst in church. But you didn’t think much about the implication of having sinful thoughts anywhere, regardless of how many crosses were currently burning stares into your back.
More than 70% of your life was spent inside these four walls, on this exact weathered seat on this same old pew.
See, when turned 12 years old and the kids at school made you aware of the fact your dad was the lead preacher at the only church in town, you figured this made you some sort of royalty.
Not once did you feel the overwhelming holy presence of god that everybody else seemed to be experiencing everyday after school and work when you all settled in together to listen to your fathers teachings.
You’d sit with a scowl on your face, turning around in the front row pew reserved for the preachers family and you’d observe the people around you. You knew everybody in your town, some more than others, but you always thought people looked different when they prayed.
The nice man who worked at the grocery store looked far more guilty and weathered with his eyes closed and the angry woman two blocks away who yelled at the kids riding their bikes too close to her sprinklers, looked peaceful like she was talking to an old friend.
Your mother would hiss under her breath in an attempt to catch your attention, sending soft pinches to your thighs until you’d begrudgingly turn back in your seat and plop down in your puffy dress, tuning out the sound of your fathers loud voice.
Looking back on it now, your mother seemed to notice the dark parts of you brewing before you even did. The two of you never saw eye to eye and despite the fact you were her only child, much to her dismay considering they tried for years after your birth to have another but to no avail, she never treated you with any sort of motherly warmth or kindness.
She’d glare at you from across the dinner table while her and your father conjoined hands and thanked the lord for the meal that your mother had cooked. You’d started to sit on your hands at dinner when you were 7 years old and what once was a cute misbehaving habit quickly became the warning sign of your future endeavors.
Still, part of being the preachers family was playing an act. So you’d all get up early in the mornings and wordlessly move around the house like the backstage of a play, dressing the part and giving bright smiles to each family that walked through the doorway on Sunday morning.
Your mother would stand behind you with a long stretched out smile, hands on your thin shoulders as she dug her nails down every time she felt you tense up at a greeting.
Then you were 16 and for the first time in your life, you heard her voice the thing you’d always assumed she believed. You stood in the hallway in your nightgown, standing stiff as a board to avoid the creaking wood of your old house, peering around a dimly lit corner to hear your parents conversation more clearly.
“She hasn’t done anything wrong Mary.” Your fathers rough low voice was flowing in your direction, sounding tired and agitated. You could vaguely hear the sounds of his rough hands rubbing over his unshaven scruff in frustration.
“She will.” Your mother sounded panicked and alert, desperate for him to understand her case. “I can’t explain it but she has this darkness in her, I’ve felt it ever since I was pregnant.”
Your breath caught in your throat as they spoke, understanding now they were referring to you. You were only slightly surprised, no grand feelings of fear or betrayal arising.
That nights conversation had ended with your mother in a fit of tears and your father uttering words of reassurance in an attempt to calm her down as you used the sounds of her loud sobs to sneak back to your room, getting under the covers and blowing out the candles by the time your father was opening your door to insure you were in bed.
He’d stood there for a few minutes, the door cracked with his hand on the knob. Do this day you wondered what he was waiting for. Maybe he was expecting you to talk in your sleep or he was trying to get some sense of the evil your mother was spewing about, but eventually you heard his tired sigh and the door shutting.
It’d been three years now since that conversation and you still hadn’t fully understood the evil your mother was referring to. You didn’t believe in god, that much had been clear to you from a very early age but you didn’t believe in the devil either.
You didn’t feel things maybe you should be feeling, sadness when an elder passed away unexpectedly or happiness when a new baby was born into the community. You didn’t feel pain when your mother shot you looks of disgust and you only felt slight jolts of satisfaction when she leapt in fear every time you entered a quiet room.
The seed of evil that was apparently inside of you never bloomed, no matter how much you waited for its arrival.
Until the day the Sim’s arrived to town.
It was extremely rare for somebody to move out of your hometown, and you’d been instructed to never speak about the families that left, to let yourself forget their names and faces. Forget any interaction you’d had with them now that they were gone.
But you’d never once contemplated the fact that it was possible to move here willingly. It hadn’t occurred to you that somebody would choose this place to live and that they’d be allowed to stay peacefully, and especially not given a grand welcome.
So you felt yourself uncharacteristically thrown off guard as you found yourself at church on a Saturday, typically your only day you weren’t required to be here. You’d spend these days down by the creek or riding around the abandoned section of town on your bike, trying to find something interesting to see.
As you stood near the stage, where your fathers podium was perfectly centered and polished, greeting the usual faces with a forced smile, your eyes landed on the most interesting sight you’d ever seen.
The Sim’s were a direct mirror of your family as they stood in front of you. Only three of them, a tall man giving your father a sturdy handshake and laughing like old friends and a small meek woman who was holding your mothers hand in both of hers, a thankful smile on her face.
Placed directly in front of you was a boy, seemingly your age, shifting back and forth on his feet as he waited for you to initiate any form of greeting.
There was people your age in town, your graduating class held 25 kids and over half of them were girls, daughters that were considered blessings for their special ability to continue on your towns population. You’d met boys, few handsome but handsome none the less but nobody who looked like the one standing in front of you.
He was taller than you, peering down at you from behind thin framed glasses and about double your width. You imagined you were hidden behind his shoulders to the view of the people stood in line behind him, waiting to greet your family.
His skin was tanned, something that you imagined wouldn’t last long considering you weren’t sure your town was blessed by the sun at all, almost constantly grey and dreary looking even in the peak of summer.
You took your time observing the boy, not feeling any sense of urgency at the knowledge people were watching and waiting, not even at the fact your mother was stood directly next to you and you could feel her stare on the side of your face. Her loss of attention seemed to make the boys mother nervous and she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“And this is our son, Jake.” She was chirping out and you almost wanted to laugh at how desperate she seemed to impress your family. The boy, Jake, was looking at you still for a second before his eyes shot to your mother and he gave her a nervous smile. “He’s shy at first but he’s a very good boy.”
His eyes flicked back over to yours as she spoke and your mouth quirked up in a small smile, finally sticking out your hand in offering to him.
You felt a strange feeling build up inside you, splattering against your ribs and painting your insides with something deep and powerful. As you held his hand in yours, your eyes caught onto your mothers and you could see the fear crossing over her expression at her own realization.
“Hi Jake.”
And the seed bloomed.
——
It wasn’t more than 30 seconds after your father finished his last word, the remains of it still echoing throughout the room underneath the chorus of ‘amen’s, that your mother was gripping your arm and dragging you back into his office space.
She closed the door swiftly and you yanked your arm out of her grip with a scowl, staring at her for an explanation about her sudden behavior despite having a slight inkling of what she was about to say to you.
“You can’t.” She spoke vaguely, an angry desperation in her voice like you were a feral dog with a hungry look in its eye.
“What are you talking about?” You lowered your agitation, doing your best impression of a confused and fearful daughter. She scoffed at your expression and held a hand to her mouth like she was genuinely amazed at your audacity.
“You leave that boy alone Y/N, or so help me God.” She was shaking her head at you and you felt a surge of annoyance at her tone, her voice shaky and weak.
You thought she was slightly pathetic. She’d spent her entire life treating you like the devil, implying your evil and avoiding you at all cost but the second you finally start to understand her concern and she’s immediately turned to pleading and bargaining. There was no fun in this for you.
Soft knocks against the door caught her attention and she looked over your shoulder, trying to ignore the fact you were still staring at her and not bothering to turn and face whoever had entered.
“Go home and get dinner started.” Your fathers voice was entering the room now in a hushed whisper, like somebody was still outside behind him. “We are going to have a welcome meal with the new residents.”
Your mothers eyes shot back in your direction at his words, like she was begging you to remember her previous warning and you offered her a small smirk before turning to face your father with a toothy grin, expression changing now.
“Of course father, whatever you need.”
——
You’d ignored your mothers glare the entire time you worked on dinner together, setting the table casually and changing into a less formal dress that gained a thumbs up of approval from your father.
When the Sim’s arrived, you greeted them similarly to how you did at church except your mother made sure to shake Jake’s hand for a prolonged amount of time so you couldn’t, only breaking apart when your father cleared his throat and ushered you all towards the polished dining room.
He took his seat at the head of the table and you briefly wondered what type of man Jake’s father was. He was larger than your dad, much larger and you noticed a hint of irritation in his face when he took a seat on the side. You imagined he sat similarly to your father at his own house and didn’t find great pleasure in the new arrangement.
There was three seats on each side and your mother had rushed to take a middle seat next to you, attempting to block anybody else from being seated beside you.
However your father cleared his throat subtly and sent the both of you a small glare, confused at the fact she hadn’t adorned her usual seat next to him. You were sure he realized it would be strange for her to sit a seat away from him, making them look distant or troubled.
She sent you a small angry look but shifted over a space so she was now sat in her usual place, leaning an empty chair between the two of you.
An empty chair that was soon taken by Jake, his mother sending him an encouraging smile and giving him a slight nudge in your direction. You remembered what she said about him being shy, not hiding the fact she was trying to create a friendship between the two of you.
His mothers face angered you more than your own. She was small and weak looking, constantly smiling with wide eyes like she was waiting to drop into a conversation at any time to force a connection, yet she rarely did throughout dinner. For the most part she stayed silent, nodding along obediently every time her husband spoke.
So you kept your attention on the boy for the most part, figuring the adults were too busy kissing eachothers ass’s to care about what the two silent teenagers were doing at the end of the table.
You knew he could feel the way you were watching him, sending you small glances out of the side of his eye and shifting uncomfortably in his seat every time he realized you were still looking.
He really was handsome you were deciding. You’d never really paid attention to boys before, understanding the difference between being attractive and not but it didn’t have any affect on you. You liked the slope of his nose and the way his throat bobbed with every nervous gulp he took.
Your father was seemingly noticing your mutual disinterest in the conversation, you watching Jake and him watching his empty plate. “Y/N honey, why don’t you take Jake to your room and show him some of your notes on our latest teachings.”
Both of your heads turned towards him as he said this, your eyes lighting up with excitement and Jake’s widening slightly.
“Oh..” His mother was starting and you resisted the urge to glare in her direction. “Jake isn’t… he’s never..”
Jake’s father sent her a sharp look and she snapped her mouth shut immediately, looking away from him. Your excitement only doubled as you realized she wasn’t comfortable leaving her son alone with a girl, leading you to believe he never had been before.
“Of course father.” You smiled at him softly, standing and flattening out your dress in a prudish manner. Jake glanced in your direction as you stood, clumsily rising out of his own chair as you headed up the stairs and down the hall to your room.
He followed wordlessly behind, still not speaking even when you stood in the doorway and let him awkwardly squeeze past you so he was stood stiffly in the center of your room. You closed the door behind you and he froze, eyes widening again.
“What are you doing?” His voice was high with worry and you realized it was your first time hearing him speak.
“What are you talking about?” You played dumb as you observed him, walking backwards until your legs hit your bed and you could sit carefully. He stayed standing as he watched you with confusion and worry.
“Mother says not to close doors.” He was shaking his head and it looked like he wanted to go and open it himself. He didn’t move however and you leaned back to rest on your hand, cocking your head in his direction.
“Do you always do what mommy says?” You questioned.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your condescending tone. You’d seemed nice enough at church and dinner, not speaking much but polite to your parents whenever you did. He was suddenly worried he had angered you.
“I guess she did say you were a good boy.” You quoted what his mother had said when she introduced him, voice carrying a faint mocking tone as you spoke.
He didn’t say anything after you said that, just standing there looking at you like you were some form of animal he’d never seen before. And maybe he hadn’t you were beginning to think, his speech was structured and tight like he was reciting lines and you were curious if he’d ever had a conversation with somebody his own age.
Your hand reached over to pat the bed next to you, raising an eyebrow at him and urging him to sit.
He watched you with that same look for a few seconds before looking back at the door like he was contemplating how fast he’d have to bolt out of it before you could sink your claws into him. He seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, crossing the room and sitting down as far away from you as he could possibly get.
“Where’d you come from?” You didn’t plan to say that but the curiosity was driving you crazy, not quite understanding how he could be so sheltered.
“A village not far from here.” He was eventually answering with a soft shrug. He was sat perfectly straight on your bed, posture making him look even taller than he already was considering you were still leaned back on your palm.
You should’ve figured he was from a village, suddenly understanding why his mother was practically a house wife from the 1800’s and his dad looked relatively similar to a lumberjack.
“No girls at your village?” You were watching the side of his face as you questioned him, growing slightly agitated that he wasn’t looking at you. “Jake.”
He turned his face towards you when you addressed him, eyes widening like he was worried you were going to scold him from the sound of your stern call.
“I asked you a question.” When he didn’t immediately answer you assumed he hadn’t heard you, repeating yourself. “Was there no girls where you’re from?”
He was shaking his head swiftly, looking at his hands and then back towards you. “None like..”
“None like me?” You interrupted him as he started to trail off and your lips quirked into a smile. “So no pretty girls then.”
He frowned as you hummed and nodded your head like you’d made sense of what he was trying to say. He didn’t look like even he understood what the things you were saying meant and you almost pitied him as you slowly unlocked the full extent of his naivety.
“You’ve probably never even held hands with a girl right?” You kept your tone sweet despite your intentions.
He looked like he only slightly relaxed at your change of tone, glancing at you as he shook his head as a way to answer your question. He didn’t understand why you wanted to know this.
You were sitting back up straight, off your hands, and leaning sideways to get closer to him. He watched you with panicked eyes as you reached down near his lap and took his hand in yours, similarly to how you shook it at the church but the tension in the room was a direct opposite.
He made a strange noise when you touched him, a semi squeak at the suddenness of your contact and you smiled at him, scooting closer so you weren’t awkwardly stretching your arm in his direction.
“How does it feel?” You murmured, fighting the urge to lean against him and whisper in his ear. You didn’t want to scare him off just yet.
“I don’t think I should be in here.” He was shaking his head as he spoke and staring down at your conjoined hands or maybe the floor past them. They were resting in his lap, the back of your hand on his right thigh.
You frowned softly although he wasn’t looking at you, trying to keep up with your act. He seemed to be more pliant earlier when he thought he had upset you. “Jake.”
He glanced at you as you said his name, just like he had before, and his gaze looked guilty when he noticed the frown on your face. You squeezed his hand to try to bring his attention back to the fact you were touching him but he shook his head again.
“I really need to go Y/N.” He was still trying to sound polite despite his obvious discomfort and you almost smiled at the innocence of that.
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You let a small whine sink into your tone, really trying to drive home the idea that he was upsetting you and you felt him squeeze your hand absentmindedly.
He didn’t reply after you said that and the room fell into a strange silence. Then he was sending a heavy glance in your direction and your mouth parted in realization, understanding his inner monologue by the thick amount of guilt in his expression.
“You do want me to touch you.” You let your smile show now, not finding any reason to hide it now that he clearly took your bait. He squeezed his eyes shut as you said this and shook his head again, his hair messy now and falling into his face.
“What’s wrong Jake?” You were almost cooing at him, your hand sliding out of his and up his wrist, in result the back of your hand going further up his thigh. You kneaded at his wrist bone and he grunted at the almost painful sensation. “It’s just skin.”
He looked at you with a frustrated expression, holding eye contact for a few seconds much to your surprise. You were almost worried he was going to cry. You didn’t mind it personally, if anything you were thinking about how pretty he’d look with watery eyes and a red nose, but you imagined it would cause some level of concern with the parents.
So you released your grip on his wrist, taking your hand back and placing it on your own lap. You were still sitting far too close to him but he visibly relaxed at the lack of touch, however slightly confused why you had backed off.
Almost like the world had been paused for the entirety of your conversation and now played again, a soft knock on your door caused you to leap away from him and grab the bible your father insisted was kept on your nightstand at all times.
You were relieved to see his face when the door opened, knowing your mother would have most likely immediately sniff out what you’d been doing. Or at least attempting to do.
Your father looked between the two of you and the large space, nodding in approval when you flashed him a smile and opened to a random page in the book. He didn’t seem to notice how tense Jake was or the fact your door had been closed in the first place.
“Your parents are leaving Jake. You can stay a bit longer if you two are having fun.” Your father was saying in a welcoming voice but Jake was hopping off your bed before he even had a chance to finish.
“No, sir. Thank you but I really should get home and finish unpacking.” He was stumbling over his words and awkwardly shifting in place, waiting for your dad to move out of the doorway so he could make his escape.
Your dad shot you a confused look over Jake’s shoulder and you gave him a small shrug, fighting the urge to smile.
——
Guilt was eating Jake alive the entire ride home. He wasn’t quite sure what he had necessarily done wrong, what level of sin he had just committed, but his mother kept shooting him disappointed looks in the mirror.
“Will you stop looking at the boy like that.” His fathers gruff voice was mumbling from the drivers seat and his mom snapped her eyes back to the front window obediently. “It’ll be good for him to make a friend.”
“What type of girl leads a boy to her bedroom?” He was surprised his mother had spoken again, especially in the harsh tone she was using. She must’ve been angry enough at you and your behavior to forget the fear she held for Jake’s father.
He felt a bit strange as she said that. You were definitely weird and had made Jake feel something he’d never experienced, and he positively wanted to leave your room as quick as possible but he didn’t think you deserved such a mean comment.
He continued to feel strange for the rest of the night.
Jake laid in bed, hours past his usual bed time, and replayed your interaction in his head. Every time he got to the part where you grabbed his wrist in your tight hold, he squeezed his eyes shut and asked god to forgive him.
He could feel his stomach light up when he thought about your hand on his pants and he wanted to dig his nails into the skin as a self punishment for the thoughts brewing in his head, thoughts he had never had before and didn’t understand.
Rolling over in his bed, stomach to the mattress, he stuffed his face into his pillow and cried softly until he eventually fell asleep.
——
You felt giddy in the church pew the next morning after seeing Jake walk in with his parents. You immediately knew your plan had worked judging by his puffy face and swollen eyes. He’d clearly gotten no sleep and you could take a strong guess at the reason why.
A sick part of you was ecstatic at the fact you had something to do, something that actually managed to catch your interest.
If all it took to keep Jake up all night was you touching his hand, than you were preparing for more fun than you originally thought.
The morning had gone routinely as you remained in your seat for the entire sermon, not spinning around to try to catch a look at the boy despite the urge constantly in the back of your mind. You didn’t focus for a second but you did a solid job pretending until you heard a hushed voice behind you excusing themself.
You snuck a glance back to see Jake passing through his pew with muttered apologies and thanks to the people he was passing, smiling softly at them.
You watched him exit the pew and make his way down the main aisle, no doubt heading towards the bathroom hall since it was the only other part of the building outside of your fathers head office. You let him disappear from your sight and counted to 30 before abruptly standing and following his path before your mother could grab your hand in denial.
By the time you made it to the hall, Jake was exiting the bathroom with damp hands and a few wet strands of hair like he had splashed his face in an attempt to wake up.
His eyes widened when he saw you approaching and he glanced behind him like he was considering disappearing back into the bathroom so you couldn’t say anything to him. You smiled at this but didn’t move closer to him, leaning against the wall.
“What are you doing?” He watched you with careful eyes, not quite sure what you wanted.
You shrugged and furrowed your eyebrows. “What are you doing? You look tired, did you not get any sleep?”
He didn’t say anything as he looked at you, eyes heavy and guilty again like he was afraid you could read his mind. Unlucky for him, you didn’t have to read his mind to know what was happening in it.
“Were you thinking about me?” You pushed forward on his suspicions when he didn’t respond to you, tilting your head as you looked at him.
He didn’t respond again, letting out a small tired exhale before leaning against the wall opposite of you. The hallway was tensioned despite not being close enough to touch even if you stretched your arm out.
“I was thinking about you.” You suddenly confessed in an attempt to catch his interest or potentially get him to lower his walls enough for a solid conversation. It seemed to work considering his head was snapping up and he was looking at you with wide questioning eyes. “Is thinking a sin?”
He watched you for a few seconds, slightly embarrassed that you had somehow realized what his inner dilemma lead back to.
“Yes.” He answered matter of factly and you let out a small laugh.
You observed the way his lips awkwardly quirked up, like he was pleased he made you laugh despite being dead serious in his answer. His smile pulled at his cheeks for a second and you liked the way he nervously wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.
“What… what were you thinking about?” He squeezed the words out like they were painful after a silence fell between the two of you. You felt a bud of satisfaction at the fact he’d been curious enough to ask.
“Touching you.” You shrugged like it was a casual thing to say, watching his shoulders tense and his mouth part slightly in shock and disapproval.
“My hand?” You were a bit surprised that he asked a follow up question, voice dropping into a scared whisper like he was worried somebody was eavesdropping, maybe he was worried god could hear him.
You were watching him for a few uncomfortable beats, liking the way his cheeks turned red and he kept looking away from your gaze anxiously. Then you were shaking your head to answer his question, taking a step closer to his side of the hall.
His breath hitched as you kept taking small strides in his direction, taking your time with a loose smile on your face like you were out for a casual walk. You stopped next to him, turning and pressing your back against the wall he was leaned on so your shoulders were pressing together.
You wondered if he was planning to hold his breath the entire time you were touching him this time around, his face reddening even though your skin was separated by multiple pieces of thick fabric.
“Would you let me touch you again?” You leaned over slightly so you were closer to his ear, your chin hovering over his shoulder.
“You can’t.” He was immediately denying your request, stiff and agitated sounding. His voice was tight as he spoke like he was having to force the words out. “Please don’t do this.”
“Because you’re a good boy right?” You were even closer now, your lips touching the shell of his ear and he was shuddering against you, a frustrated whine in his throat.
He sent a sharp glare in your direction, at least as sharp as his features could get. You thought he looked cute when he was mad at you, eyes brows furrowed and his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. Despite the way he was looking at you, he made no attempt to push you away or step apart himself.
“I want you to come to my house after church.” You whispered to him and he didn’t say anything, for once not shaking his head and just looking at you as you spoke your cruel demands. “I’ll tell my dad to talk to your parents about helping you catch up on his teachings.”
He looked amazed at your audacity, to not only lie to your parents but to lie about the lord and the Bible made his stomach turn in disgust.
Still, he almost couldn’t help but to lean his shoulder closer to yours and watch you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. He felt almost transfixed by you and your newness, the unique energy you gave off that made his head spin. He nodded his head slowly and watched you smile.
——
You’d waited for your mother to leave the house, a very rare occurrence for her outside of her weekly bingo nights at the recreational center in town, before you poked your head into your fathers office to request he calls the Sim’s.
You felt strangely jittery as you waited for them to send Jake over. Surprisingly, the Sim’s hadn’t moved into a house that far from you and you imagined he could probably ride a bike to your house in less than twenty minutes if the weather ever allowed it, rainy days an almost constant feature around this time of year.
It was only around half an hour before you heard knocks on the front door, followed by the low tone of your fathers voice and eventually the creaking of the steps as somebody made their way up to your bedroom.
Jake seemed thrown off when he saw you, dressed in far more casual clothes than he’d seen you in so far. He also looked momentarily relieved at the fact your door was wide open and you didn’t make any move to shut it as he crossed into the threshold of your room.
“Hi.” He politely addressed you with a slight bow and wave, avoiding looking at you fully where you sat on the bed. You gave him an incredulous look and sighed before patting the spot next to you.
He looked like he was dreading this but expecting it, only taking a few seconds of hesitation before he was shuffling over and sitting slowly down on your soft bed. You immediately scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand in yours.
His reaction wasn’t as intense as last time although he did immediately stiffen and his eyes snapped wide open, but he didn’t let out a small shriek at the feeling of your touch like he did yesterday.
“Are you going to let me touch you today?” You kept your voice low and he was suddenly very aware of the fact your door was completely open and your father was just a few feet away downstairs.
He slowly looked over at you, peering up from behind his long eyelashes and you wanted to grab his face with your nails. He looked like a puppy who had just done something naughty, big eyes unmoving from nerves as they darted around your face so he could avoid holding your strong gaze.
“This isn’t right.” He whispered back, eyes pleading as they finally locked onto yours. You almost felt sorry for him as he spoke, obviously so desperate to set you back on the right path in life. “Mother said I shouldn’t lay a hand on anybody, not even myself.”
You almost smiled as he said this, pleased at the new information he was unknowingly providing you with.
“It’s just skin.” You were reminding him again, slowly leaning against him so your chest was pressed against the side of his arm. His breath hitched at this and he glanced down at your upper body for a second. “You’ve never touched yourself?”
He shook his head immediately, face annoyed like he was offended you’d even suggest he would do such a thing. You liked that even though he was uncomfortable and denying his thoughts towards you, he still wasn’t seemingly capable of pushing you away. He’d still shown up to your house.
“I touch myself.” You were leaning forward more so you could talk into his ear again. A soft whimper left his throat when your lips grazed his skin again but he didn’t say anything, like he was waiting for you to continue. “On this bed, I touch myself every night.”
It was a slight exaggeration. You hadn’t really felt a strong need to touch yourself ever, never having a subject of attraction that left you longing enough that you’d roll around in bed late at night thinking about it, squeezing your thighs together in frustration.
But you were transfixed by the way he immediately tensed again, glancing back behind you towards where your pillows were and then immediately shooting forward and falling to the cross hanging on the wall in front of you both.
“It’s just skin.” You repeated to him again and he sucked in a shaky breath as you said it, bringing his guilty pained eyes back to you. You almost cooed at him, clicking your tongue and holding his chin softly. He leaned into the touch like he wasn’t meaning to and you wondered how touch starved he must be.
Your hand that wasn’t holding his face fell down to his lap, laying flat and still on his thigh as you let him process what you were doing.
He stiffened again and let out a low troubled groan, shaking his head again at himself. You wondered what he was thinking right now, if he was convinced he was heading straight for hell because of his thoughts alone so maybe it didn’t matter if he let you touch him. Or maybe he was seconds away from bolting downstairs and telling your father about what you’d been attempting to do.
“This isn’t right.” He was whispering and still trying to shake his head the best he could with your grip on his face. His repetition was starting to bug you, suddenly feeling impatient as he still hadn’t taken the bait fully.
“But it feels so good.” You purred into his ear, turning his head back to look at the cross and scooting closer so you were pressed tightly against his side. The sensation of this mixed with your hand on his leg was overwhelming and he felt slightly suffocated. “I want to show you Jake, let me show you how good it feels.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you considered letting him go, wanting to have him completely might mean waiting some time so you didn’t scare him off.
Then he was surprising you and looking back in your direction, your hand falling to his collarbones instead so he could decide what to do with his head. He gave you a soft nod, looking like he immediately regretted it when you wasted no time, pushing your hand forward onto the center of his pants.
He immediately lurched forward with a loud groan at the feeling of your hand on him and you shushed him softly, using the hand on his face to bring him back up to a sitting position and pet his face lovingly.
“You have to be quiet Jake.” You whispered in his ear and nodded towards your open door. He looked at you with a desperate glance, like he was pleading for you to close it despite his upset at that yesterday. You shook your head softly. “Can you be a good boy Jake?”
You started to slowly knead your hand against him, wanting to smile at the fact he was already hard before you had touched him. Light teasing and your soft hand on his thigh already had him bothered.
He was making small noises and you kept his face turned in your direction with your hold back on his jaw. You were sitting up straighter than him so he was a bit below you, having to look up through his eyelashes as he surprisingly held eye contact with you.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” You murmured excitedly, eyes wild and eager. He didn’t reply verbally, another small whine slipping from his throat and you pressed down hard on his cock through his pants. “I asked a question.”
Now he was nodding desperately, hands reaching out to grip your wrist in an attempt to lessen the pressure you were applying to him. “Good- feels good.”
His voice was strained and raspy like it was crawling its way out of his throat and you smiled with sick satisfaction, leaning forward so you were closer to his face. Your nose pressed against his and you thought about kissing him for just a few seconds, eventually deciding against it.
Jake was writhing on the bed now, desperately moving into your hand with small groans and whines, his hips lifting off the blanket in an attempt to chase your touch every time you removed it. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, a dazed expression on his face.
He seemed out of it until your hand was leaving his face and sliding down his sweater covered chest. He didn’t seem to realize you were doing it until your hand was pressing on his stomach slightly, fidgeting with the singular button on his jeans and tugging on the zipper impatiently.
“No, no.” He was whining, grabbing your wrist to stop you from snaking your hand down his pants, touching him without any layers between. “You can’t do that.”
“Why?” You asked incredulously, leaning forward so you were hovering over him slightly. He leaned back on his hand a bit to avoid bumping into your face and you were a few inches from laying on top of him. “I promise it’ll feel so good Jake.”
The usage of his name made him wince, realizing he liked it far too much when you said it. He’d never really considered his name before, completely indifferent to it until he heard the way it rolled off your snake like tongue.
“You aren’t supposed to do that.” He practically spat the words at you but his tone lacked any anger instead sounding fearful and pained. “You can’t touch me there, you just can’t.”
You felt slightly sorry for him as he hiccuped, his voice breaking around the words as you watched tears collect in his pretty eyelashes. His eyes kept darting to the cross on the wall with a guilty expression.
You took your hands off of his lap, listening to his sigh of longing at the loss of contact. You weren’t quite sure what to do in this situation despite seeing it coming, eventually opting for sitting up further on the bed and pulling him into your neck, wrapping your arms around his shaking body in a hug.
He leaned into it and hesitantly wrapped himself around you, tucking his face into your warm neck and letting out a few sobs, tugging you forward slightly by your lower back.
You let him cry for a while, hushing him softly every few minutes just in case, although you were in a less compromising position now, you still didn’t think your father would be thrilled to find you half in the lap of a sniffling boy who was still hard against you.
“Jake.” You were eventually murmuring into his hair once his hiccups subsided slightly, he nuzzled into your neck further at the sound of your soft tone. “What if I didn’t use my hands?”
He picked his head up at this and furrowed his eyebrows at you, his eyes puffy and red with wet streaks still going down his face.
“I don’t understand.” He looked more puppy like than normal as he said this in a soft breathy voice, voice hoarse from crying and his lip almost jutting out into a confused frown.
“Can I show you?” You kept your voice soft as you spoke to him and he immediately nodded his head. He clearly had found some sort of comfort in your embrace, a connection being made enough for him to fall into this state of vulnerability, willingly to accept what you were wanting to give him now.
You felt a sick rush of adrenaline at his lowered walls, the sudden dumb eagerness in his eyes as he seemed to seek out any sign of contact from you.
You imagined it was a flood of emotions, a confusion and tiring feeling to suddenly be presented with a situation that went against everything your life had been carefully crafted around. Not to mention how addicting it must feel to suddenly learn what was on the other side and how good it felt, having unbothered access to it as the two of you sat huddled on your bed.
Kissing his cheek softly, you slowly slid off the bed onto the floor, suddenly thankful you had a thick rug on your bed side. He watched you in confusion, looking like he wanted to grab you and help you up before you shot him a stern look.
Your hands were back on his jeans now that you were fully situated and he looked like he wanted to object for just a second before lifting his hips off the bed so you could pull them down to pool around his ankles.
You took just a second to admire him, his pretty tanned skin overwhelming you a bit in its sheer amount. His legs were surprisingly thick, muscular like an athlete and you briefly remembered you didn’t know much about him at all.
That didn’t bother you at all, if anything it made you want him more when you looked up at him to see his nervous eyes staring down at you in concern. He looked humiliated and you imagined it had something to do with the fact he was still extremely hard, even after crying for so long.
If he was more stable in his emotions, less flighty, you would’ve made fun of him. You would’ve called him names and made him cry all over again and then taken his innocence without a second thought.
Instead you carried on the kindness act, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his length through his underwear.
He immediately hissed and shot forward, not realizing what you were planning to do and not understanding why you were doing this. He started to stammer out in confusion and you shushed him again, sending a sharp glare towards the open door in warning.
“What are you doing?” He sounded absolutely blown away now, even more than he did earlier and it settled in your mind that he clearly had absolute no sexual knowledge, including blowjobs. “That’s dirty, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?” You were mock frowning up at him. “Did mommy say so?”
He knew you were making fun of him but he still nodded in response, not liking the sudden return of your mean tone. He forgot all about it when you were leaning forward again, this time touching your lips to him longer and sucking softly through the fabric.
“Mommy’s not here.” You were breathing out when you pulled away from him again, much to his dismay considering he immediately lifted his hips back in your direction. “And doesn’t it feel nice?”
He was nodding his head dumbly in agreement, feeling dizzy from the foreign emotions. He still didn’t understand what you were doing but it felt too good to keep questioning, forgetting momentarily about sin and how much punishment was going to come his way after this.
You were sliding your hands up his thighs slowly, stopping at the waistband of his boxers and glancing up at him for any sign of refusal. You didn’t care much for his discomfort but you weren’t going to force him to do anything, despite how much fun you were having with him.
He didn’t make any move to stop you, not even seeming to notice or understand what you were planning to do until you pulled on the elastic swiftly.
Then he was shooting back up from where he’d been leaning back, shaking his head again and covering himself with his hands. You smiled at him from your place on the floor and he looked at you like you were crazy.
You were getting slightly frustrated despite your pleased expression, wanting him to quickly understand what you were planning on doing. You gripped his wrist tightly and pulled them away from his lap
“What are you doing?” He was whispering in a panicked tone, his hands hovering above your head like he was debating pulling you away from him. He let out a yelp when you leaned forward and took the head of his cock into your mouth, watching him with hooded eyes. “T-that’s dirty, stop it.”
You wanted to laugh at his wording choices, sounding like he was a worried mother scolding their child for playing in mud.
“It’s dirty?” You frowned at him when you pulled back for a moment, his wide eyes falling on your wet lips. They squeezed shut just for a moment when you were licking up his full length slowly, humming at the taste of him and his weight on your tongue. “I should probably stop then right?”
He let out a panicked cry and ran a hand over his face in frustration. He wanted you to stop or at least he knew he should want you to stop. His mother had been right and you were not a nice girl, not the type of girl he should be around and he felt his stomach turn at the knowledge he was committing a very large sin by finding pleasure in your lust.
But the pleasure was prominent and overwhelming him to the point he couldn’t think straight.
He understood what sex was and his father had taught him about boyish lust, the kind that wakes you up from your sleep needing to change into a new pair of pajamas but he’d been warned from an early age to simply ignore the occurring urge.
He could still hear his mothers shrieks and cries when she caught him with a pillow between his legs in high school, could feel the welts on the back of his hands from the ruler his father had punished him with. Jake sometimes wondered if other people experienced this urge, this call to sin, as much as he did or if he was rotten inside.
But for the first time in his entire life, Jake couldn’t find it in himself to think about the consequences to falling victim to it. Not when you were touching him in ways not even his dreams could think to imagine.
When he didn’t answer you’d taken him back in your mouth, slightly impressed by how thick he was. He bucked forward his hips instinctively, pushing himself deeper into your mouth and you pinched his thigh roughly in warning.
You heard him cry out in a sob, his hands gripping the blankets so hard they were turning white and shaking at an almost alarming rate.
“Please.” He was begging and you weren’t sure he even knew what for, his voice coming out desperate and needy. “Please i-it feels really weird.”
You hummed around his cock in understanding, your hand petting his thigh and pushing his shirt up on his stomach so you could feel more of him. He didn’t even seem to register you touching him, the sounds of his soft cries and pleads distracting you slightly.
You tapped his hip bone a few times and he seemed to somehow understand the message, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth at a slower pace this time. You let him do what he wanted despite the urge to take control of the situation, knowing there wasn’t any chance he was lasting more than 30 seconds anyways.
He was slightly surprising you already, truthfully you’d expected him to cum before you even got his boxers off his thighs.
You imagined his inner monologue was causing him some issue as you listened to him cry softly from pleasure, little overwhelmed gasps and hiccups as one of his hands grabbed onto the one you were running across his stomach and squeezed it tightly.
“You need to just let it go baby.” You were whispering to him as you pulled off for a second when his hips started to twitch awkwardly, overwhelmed and not understanding what the feeling building up deep in his gut was. “Don’t worry about making a mess.”
The second you took him back in your lips he was following your instructions with a loud moan, completely forgetting you were meant to keep quiet as he came inside your warm mouth.
You winced slightly at the unexpectedness of it, leaning backwards on your knees as you waited for his hips to stop jerking forward.
He was shaking his head at you, eyes teary and his face red as he squinted his eyes in confusion. “What w-was -“
“You came.” You said matter of factly, standing up with a groan from your uncomfortable kneeling position and sitting next to him on the bed again. He leaned sideways into you, much to your surprise, and you resisted the urge to push him off you.
“Was I supposed to?” He whispered in embarrassment and pushed his face into your neck again. You were slightly uncomfortable at his clinginess but you let him do it, knowing he must be feeling a lot.
“Yes Jake. Maybe not all over my face though.” You were trying to joke with him to lighten the atmosphere but you sighed as you heard him let out a little cry into your neck, clearly upset and humiliated.
He was mumbling against your skin, repeated mantras that you couldn’t quite understood through his sobs but had a good guess in what they contained. You imagined reality was coming back to him now and he was processing what he’d just done without the hazy cloud of need cursing his judgement.
“Jake, you need to stop crying.” You were sighing and bringing your hand up to his hair, petting it softly to try to calm him down.
“Did I do a bad thing?” He pulled off your neck to look you in the eyes, his wide and desperate like he was fishing for any bit of reassurance that what you’d just done was okay, that he hadn’t just committed a sin so unholy. You could tell by his expression he was asking just to hear it reaffirmed, for you to tell him again it was just skin.
“My poor baby.” You were cooing at him, lips jutted out in a pout as your hands came up to hold his face, cupping it softly and wiping his teary cheeks with your thumbs. “Of course you did a bad thing.”
He froze completely in your hold and you felt a laugh bubble into your throat, holding it down with all your might so you could get the full extent of his reaction. He sat up slightly, attempting to pull out of your hands before realizing you were holding his face too tight. He gave you a confused and hurt look.
“What?” He was stammering out and his face was curling back into another sob.
“How could you let me do that?” You were tsking at him as you spoke, eyebrows furrowed like he had genuinely offended you. He watched you as panic settled into his eyes at the sound of you kissing your teeth and shaking your head softly. “We were supposed to be studying.”
“B-but.” He was shaking his head and holding onto your wrist, eyes filling with tears. “But you said that..”
He trailed off and you watched him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to pass the blame off onto you. Of course he didn’t, his expression hardening although you knew he hadn’t quite realized your motive. He was too innocent to believe you’d deceive him, too stupid to understand every action you did was a carefully crafted lie.
“Maybe it’s time you go Jakey.” You were nodding as you spoke, petting his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes.
He didn’t say anything else, his expression dazed out as he came out of such a vulnerable compliant headspace with a jolt. You watched him in silence as he gathered himself enough to get dressed awkwardly and walk out of your room, loose and tilting like he had just woken up.
You waited for him to be completely out of sight, the sound of the front door closing, before falling back on your bed with a big smile.
——
You’d fallen asleep soon after that without much thought on the situation, feeling only a deep satisfaction at the progress you’d made with Jake and a slight tinge of excitement for the next time you got to see him.
By the time you’d woken up, your mother was already in your room and standing staring down at you. You barely reacted to her presence although you were slightly unnerved and curious just how long she’d been watching you sleep.
“Can I help you?” Your voice was groggy as you sat up and pushed your bedridden hair out of your face.
Any other mother might have found your tired movements cute, maybe they’d give you an endeared smile and reminisce on when you were a baby waking up from naps.
However you were born with a very specific type of mother, maybe one of her kind. She was watching you with a nasty scowl, a knowing look in her eye as she did a slow pan around your room. “Your father said the boy was here yesterday.”
You hummed in agreement, tilting your head softly to try and get a further reaction from her.
“His mother called and said he won’t be at church this morning.” She spat the words at you, accusatory and nasty. “He’s sick.”
You could tell by the way she said that she knew it was a lie, wether Jake was the one telling it or his mother. At first you were slightly shocked he’d lie about being sick but you figured he might just be feeling so, driven by the extreme emotions he’d been feeling.
“What a shame. He seemed more than fine yesterday.” You put in a pity filled voice, shaking your head as you let the innuendo sink in for her, watching the way her face curled with disgust.
“Almost ready?” You father was suddenly in your doorway, observing the scene with a raised eyebrow as he buttoned the cuff of his sleeve.
“Father, would it be okay if I stopped by the Sim’s before heading to service? I’d like to bring Jake some soup for his cold.” Your voice was dripping with sweetness and you vaguely saw your mothers jaw tick with irritation.
“I can do it.” She was rushing to say.
Your father shook his head immediately and held a hand up to silence the both of you from speaking again. He finished buttoning his sleeve and cleared his throat before speaking. “You agreed to meet with the Lee’s today Mary. I think it’d be a good idea for Y/N to go, since they’re friends.”
You smiled appreciatively at him and he gave you a small nod before leaving the room. You glanced at your mother to see her stony expression but surprisingly she didn’t say anything, simply shaking her head in disapproval and following behind him.
It was strange to not leave for church with them, to stand in the window with the curtain pulled back as you smiled and waved watching the car drive off.
You dropped the grin the second they turned the street corner and hurried out the door to get on your bike and head over to the Sim’s house.
You hadn’t been there before despite your father pointing it out on your way home yesterday but it looked pretty much the exact same as the other houses in the neighborhood. It was large and eerie, the rainy atmosphere not helping it.
The door was opening before you could even dismount your bike let alone knock and you saw Jake’s mom standing in the archway with a small frown.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was harsh and for a second you wondered if he had told her about what happened, confessed his sins in a fit of guilt.
You were so thrown off that you didn’t immediately respond, suddenly aware of the fact you didn’t bring any sort of soup or medicine like you had originally planned, too eager to get out the door to remember your cover story.
Lucky for you, Jake’s father was coming into sight now and a small grunt from him sent the rude woman cowering away.
You observed this with a curious expression and tried not to frown. Maybe Jake wasn’t as innocent and pure as he seemed considering he apparently had some familial issues, obvious in the way his mother showed a fearful obedience to the large man in front of you.
“You here for my boy?” His voice was low and gruff and it was a bit remarkable how different Jake was than his father.
You opted for a small nod, only slightly playing a part considering he actually did a good job at intimidating you. He let out a hum of approval and stepped aside so you could enter the house, not asking anymore questions.
“It’s good you two get along.” You were taking in the main living space as you entered, his voice picking up a conversational tone that sounded slightly unnatural. “I was beginning to think he’d never talk to someone his own age, let alone a girl.”
He had a typical mannish tone, one you’d heard in movies or from the gross men who sat outside the town bar in a drunken haze as they catcalled and talked at a volume far too loud for your small town. It lacked the usual religious hold you were more used to, he almost sounded pleased at the idea of his son being with a girl.
You glanced at him and held his stare. You wondered for a second if he was testing you now, waiting for you to reveal any sinful intentions you had so he could run back to your father and earn some brownie points for catching your sickness in the act.
He raised an eyebrow at you as you cocked your head, willing him to talk further and continue in his attempt at baiting you.
“Upstairs on the right.” He eventually said, your stare unrelenting. You unfroze your stony expression and gave him a small smile, knowing you probably looked crazy with how fast your face changed.
You were walking away from him before he could say anything else or before Jake’s mother could return, skipping a step at a time in your haste to get upstairs.
Without knocking, you pushed open his door and barged in.
He was sat up in bed, lower half under the covers, and he let out a small shriek of surprise at your sudden intrusion, furthered by a quick inhale when he realized who it was that had just walked in.
“W-what are you doing here?” He was rushing out as he watched you close the door behind you and sit down on the end of his bed.
“I came to check on you.” You said it like it was obvious, a soft shrug of your shoulders. “Since you’re sick.”
His mouth parted in confusion for a second before he seemingly remembered he was meant to be ill, looking awkward and guilty at the reminder he had lied.
You didn’t address his obvious reaction, telling you what you already assumed, and instead climbed up further on his bed. He made a strange noise when you got closer to him, pulling back the blankets and getting underneath them with him. You briefly caught sight of his plaid pajama pants before you covered the both of you up.
“M-my parents.” He was shaking his head and anxiously looking at the door like he was waiting for his mom to walk in any second. You watched his distress, wondering if he was possibly hoping for that to happen, before you heard the sound of the front door slamming.
A look of fear passed over his face at the realization his parents had just left him alone with you. You were a bit surprised yourself but you kept your face neutral, watching him to drink up his reaction.
“I came all this way and you can’t even say thank you.” You tsked and relaxed against his pillows with an annoyed expression. “Especially after what you did yesterday.”
He looked upset at the reminder and he was sitting up more now, the blanket pulling forward around his thighs and he practically kneeled and titled forward in your direction. He wasn’t touching you but his hands were clasped together as he practically did a full bow on his bed.
“I’m so sorry.” He started to say the words but his voice broke around them and he rocked slightly back and forth. You almost laughed at the fact he was already about to cry and it’d only been about five minutes alone with you. “Thank you for coming.”
You imagined he’d been doing a lot of crying since you saw him last, staying up all night running your words on loop in his mind. The sincerity in your voice when you told him he committed a disgusting sin.
“Get back under the covers.” You spoke in a calm voice and he picked his head up to look at you in confusion, face red and eyes teary. He looked surprised you weren’t scolding him, having seemingly forgotten you were the one who practically forced him to let you touch him.
He stayed frozen like that for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and nodding appreciatively, getting back under the blankets and pulling them up again so you were covered. He seemed to only now realize you were laying back against the pillows and he mirrored you, laying on his side so he could face you.
“I won’t tell anybody what you did.” You whispered to him now that his attention was fully on you. Your hand came up to hold his face and he tensed for a second at the contact. “Or maybe I will… I haven’t decided.”
He shook his head hastily, scooting closer to your body and grabbing ahold of your hand that was on his face, wrapping both of his around your wrist and squeezing it softly in desperation.
“Y-you can’t.” He urged and you felt his hands shaking around yours. “I mean you can b-but I’m really so sorry and my dad, he’d kill me.”
You shushed him as he started to ramble, petting his cheek and frowning deeply at what he had said. You figured Jake’s dad hurt his mother but you hadn’t considered it extending to his child as well. A strange surge of anger ran through you despite your own twisted intentions.
Scooting down a bit more so you were completely laid down, you put a hand on his back and pulled him towards you until he got the hint and curled into your side with a soft cry. He was stuffing his face back into your neck like he did yesterday and you rubbed his back softly.
You vaguely acknowledged the fact he was completely pressed against your side now, almost laying half on top of you in his emotional state.
“I won’t tell.” You whispered, his soft and messy hair tickling your face as you spoke. In his desperation for comfort he seemed to forget about not touching you, his arm coming up to wrap around your stomach, tugging you closer in a rush of thankfulness and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “But only if you answer my questions.”
He nodded immediately and picked his head up off your neck so he could look at you more clearly. He looked particularly cute like this you decided, his hair unstyled and still sticking up from where he’d slept on it and his soft pajamas that were rubbing against your legs.
“Did you touch yourself last night.” You held his chin as you spoke so he was looking up at you, his head almost resting against your chest as he peered with big wet eyes.
He was shaking his head as much as he could and furrowing his eyebrows like he did the last time you asked him. “I don’t- I wouldn’t. I don’t know how even.”
This fascinated you slightly. You figured he didn’t understand masturbating or its purpose outside of it being sinful but the fact he’d never once curiously touched himself was interesting. You wondered how many nights he laid in bed crying with confusion at the dull ache between his legs.
“Did you like being in my mouth?” Your voice dropped lower for the second question and an automatic whine slipped out from his lips, his face immediately flushing with embarrassment as he seemed to replay the memory.
He was nodding hesitantly much to your annoyance, you wanted to hear him say it but you figured you could take it easy on him today.
Maybe easy wasn’t the best way to describe your current plan for him considering the way you were suddenly pressing your thigh in between his legs, smiling at him when he groaned loudly and tightened his grip on you.
Your side burned slightly from the force in which he curled his hands up at the sudden contact.
“You’re hard.” You said matter of factly, telling the truth and not just teasing him. He was solid against your thigh now and you heard him whimper when you shifted slightly so his tight grip on you was more comfortable. “I barely said anything and you’re hard.”
He shook his head in disagreement but his hips twitched forward, rubbing his erection against you and making a low drawn out sound at the feeling.
“Did I say you could do that?” Your tone was harsh again and he immediately froze, groaning softly and tucking his head forward onto your chest. You let your hand go back to this hair, petting him for a second before gripping it tightly and tugging his head back up to look at you.
He winced at the pain, face contorted as he tried to scoot away from you. However he still didn’t remove his arm from around your stomach so he wasn’t able to go far, his hand still kneading against your side like he didn’t realize he was even moving it.
“Ask me.” You instructed him, still holding his hair in a tight fist. “Clear words, no crying bullshit.”
He looked momentarily taken back by you swearing and being so harsh but then he had a look of guilt like he was remembering the other day and he was attempting to nod in head in agreement.
“Please I want… I want you to touch me.” He settled on, not sure how to word what he needed. You smiled softly at him for his attempt but you weren’t convinced, deciding on helping him ask you properly.
“Tell me you’re disgusting.” You whispered, leaning your face forward so your nose was touching his again, like it did momentarily yesterday. “Say you want to hump my leg like a dog.”
He looked confused and overwhelmed at your words, shaking his head in refusal until you moved your leg again. It rubbed against him and you almost laughed at the fact he was almost harder now even after your tone changed. His hips chased the feeling and you tugged his hair again in warning, listening to his soft groan of frustration.
“I want..” He hiccuped softly and shook his head, trying to force the strange words from his mouth. “I want to hump your leg please please.”
You let go of his hair and his head fell back down onto your chest. He hadn’t completely fulfilled your request but it was good enough for now.
“Alright baby.” You didn’t need to say anything else for him to understand, immediately pulling you closer again and rocking against your side.
You listened to his soft little whines as he humped against you desperately, moving in messy motions as he tried to chase after the feeling he recognized from yesterday.
The feeling of his hand gripping your side was making your head spin a bit much to your irritation and you gripped it tightly, moving it off your waist. He seemed to misunderstand and instead placed it directly over your belly button where your sweater had ridden up, pushing down softly as he rubbed the soft skin of your stomach.
You let out a small groan and this seemed to ignite something in him because he let out a little cry and nuzzled further into you as he dragged his clothed cock over your hip harder.
“Tell me it feels good.” You instructed him and you felt more annoyance at the fact your voice came out breathy, not liking the effect he was having on you.
“S-so good.” He immediately responded and you felt his leg wrap around yours, trying to get closer to you despite it being impossible. “Going to die it’s good, it’s good.”
You laughed softly at his dramatic wording and pet his hair again, trying to get his attention. He slowed down the grinding of his hips to look at you and you nearly cooed at his hooded wet eyes, trying to focus on your face but struggling.
You were originally planning on teasing him some more, attempting to get him to repeat the words you wanted to hear earlier, but at the sight of his pretty overwhelmed face you couldn’t help yourself from leaning in and kissing him softly.
He yelped at the feeling, tensing up for a few seconds before closing his eyes and trying to kiss you back, failing miserably.
You laughed against his lips and you could feel him frowning, face getting red with embarrassment as he uncomfortably shifted against you.
“Come here.” You tapped his back softly and nudged him so he was fully on top of you, squishing you under him but making it so you could reach his mouth better. “Rub your cock on me while we kiss.”
He whined softly, nodding his head despite the flush on his face and you waited while he slowly experimented with the new position, practically in missionary now. When he started to move his hips again, his hard cock was now rubbing directly against your core and he faltered at the feeling, nearly collapsing on top of you.
You smiled at his reaction. You had full doubt that he knew what sex was or the fact he was basically imitating it but you imagine he could get the gist that what you were doing was wrong.
You leaned your head forward to kiss him again, easier now that he was on top of you and seemingly more eager to get it right this time. He was still sloppy, not really understanding how to move his mouth or when but you took over, moving your lips against his slowly.
He seemed to get the hang of it eventually and you could feel his thrust getting more desperate as the kiss got deeper and faster.
Your tongue was in his mouth before he even realized and he made a small startled sound, hips stopping against yours at the new feeling. He was letting out high pitched whines and moans as you licked into his mouth, him drooling slightly and desperately trying to keep your tongue where it was.
You could feel him sucking on it, twisting his head to try to get it deeper in his mouth and he instinctively gave a particularly hard thrust, causing you to moan into him.
This seemed to startle him, pulling back off your face with a wet chin and hooded eyes, looking down at you in amazement.
He did it again experimentally and you could feel the hard print of his cock directly against you, your back arching as your hand came up to grip his hair and stop him from doing it again. You were reminding yourself this wasn’t about your pleasure, you wanted to ruin him and nothing else.
But you couldn’t deny your attraction to him, almost the perfect boy for you if there was to ever be one.
It didn’t help he happened to have an impressive size on him, although you doubted he even realized he was bigger than usual or would know what to do if given that information.
You wrapped a leg around his side and he sucked in a breath, having better access now. He kept rolling his hips sloppily into you and moaning loudly, forgetting who he was or where he was currently at.
“What would mommy think if she saw you like this?” You took it upon yourself to remind him, whispering into his mouth with a pant and almost laughing at the way he immediately tensed and stopped humping against you. “If she walked it to see her son so desperate to sin.”
He was shaking his head and lifting it slightly to be able to look at you better, eyes welling up with tears as he glanced back over his shoulder at the closed door. You hadn’t been there long and you imagined church still had a few hours before it’d be over and they’d be heading back but he seemed to forget all this at the mention of his parents.
“I’m not.” His hair was messy in his face, bangs slightly damp from sweating and his previous tears. “I don’t want to sin, I don’t want to be bad. Please.”
You hummed softly at him, lips forming a mocking pout as you looked at him with gentle eyes. You stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning against your hand like a puppy.
“My poor baby.” You cooed and kissed him again briefly, he immediately chased after it when you pulled away and you tapped your finger on his cheek to stop him. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
He seemed confused at what you meant but too drunk on the feeling of your touch and lips, chasing after them again in a messy kiss that was mostly just him trying to get his tongue back against yours.
You indulged him and let him lick into it, letting out soft desperate moans and you were suddenly realizing how much you were aching for him despite managing to keep a cool demeanor on the outside.
You shifted your leg that was wrapped around his middle and he seemed to remember that he was currently on top of you and he went back to writhing against your body, his hard on rubbing against you an almost painful amount now that you were granting him more access with the switched position.
He wasn’t able to hold himself up, curling up on your chest while he moved his lower body with sobs of pain and need.
“God, I thought it’d take longer to break you.” You were trying to make fun of him but your voice broke in a moan at the feeling of him pushing himself against your sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking nasty, look at yourself.”
He was shaking his head and crying fully now, chasing after a high he didn’t even understand and you were almost feeling dizzy from the pace he was going.
“I’m good.” He was blabbering out and looking at you again, trying to lean forward for a kiss but letting out a sharp cry midway and falling back down with his head on your chest.
“You’re a good boy Jake.” You cooed at him, nodding even though he couldn’t see you and he felt sick at the constant changing of your tones. “My good boy right?”
He was suddenly sitting up again, pulling himself against you so he could look at you directly in the eye, if he could see through his tears. He was nodding his head in earnest and you felt your lip quirk up in a smile.
“I’m yours. I want to be yours.” He was rushing out, hands leaving your stomach to balance on either side of you. His tone was pleading and you wondered if he even knew what he was asking for or if he was just repeating what you’d said dumbly.
You kissed him softly and he let out a shaky breath of relief against your lips. However he started to frown when you were suddenly pushing him off of you and patting the empty space on the bed right beside where you were laying. He looked confused and hurt but he didn’t ask any questions, simply rolling over and waiting to see what you were attempting to do.
You watched him for a few seconds, taking in the change of appearance in such a short amount of time.
He was laid back fully on the bed, eyes hooded and cloudy. His mouth was parted slightly as he panted, his chest rising and falling at a fast speed as his arm reached up to try and push his messy hair out of his face. You liked the way he looked like this, especially the way his shirt was ridden up on his stomach, a sliver of skin showing.
He started making small impatient whines and groans so you took mercy on him, flipping yourself over slightly so you could situate yourself on his lap.
You sucked in a breath the second you did, quickly shutting your lips tight after so he didn’t catch sight of the display of pleasure. He was hard underneath and pressed tightly against your core as you sat on him.
“Oh my god.” He was crying out and his hands jutted forward like he was going to grab your sides, stopping midway and flailing around as he didn’t know what he was meant to do with them.
“Touch me.” You spat at him, reaching down to grab his wrist and put his hands on your ass as you leaned forward so you were in a similar position to his a few minutes ago, laying on top of him.
He froze as he touched you and you almost scolded him for acting so prudish with touching you like he wasn’t just trying to fuck you through his cute little pajamas. However you figured it was harder for him to deliberately do something versus acting purely on the overwhelming lust he was feeling.
You gripped his jaw harshly in your hand, your nails digging into his skin slightly as you used your thumb to pull his mouth open and hummed with satisfaction.
“Say you want me inside you.” You whispered, leaning down to talk into his open mouth. You watched his eyes widen in confusion but you rubbed your hips against him as motivation and he immediately complied.
“Want you inside me.” He moaned out, big fat tears sliding down his face. “Y/N please I need it please.”
He didn’t even know what he was asking for but he was overwhelmed and sinking back down into that fuzzy headspace, willing to do anything to get pleasure from you.
You kept his mouth open after he was done speaking and he opened it wider for you, although not understanding where you were heading with this action. He watched with wide confused eyes as you leaned over him and slowly spit into his open mouth.
He cried out, hips bucking up instinctively at the sensation of your spit on his tongue so directly and you almost fell forward from the roughness in which he fucked himself up into you. You smacked his cheek lightly and he snapped his mouth shut with another moan, eyes shut in euphoria.
You hummed at him in approval, leaning back down to kiss him again and lick into his mouth, letting him turn his head sideways in an attempt to get your tongue as deep as possible. You wondered if he was purposely imitating the blowjob you’d given him or if he was just that desperate to be consumed.
“I’m going to take you to hell with me.” You whispered, pulling out of the kiss and petting his hair softly. He shook his head and let out a small sob, this time not from pleasure.
“Do you want to cum?” You didn’t address his denial or tease him further for now, knowing now you had him completely hooked. He was addicted to you and the feelings you gave him and no mean words would be able to keep him away from you.
He seemed hesitant in his nod, now once again thinking about the sins he was committing and the fact he was skipping church to touch a girl inappropriately. But he did eventually nod his head, eyes still watering.
“Then fuck me baby.” You rolled back over as you spoke, flopping onto your back and rubbing his chest through his shirt, slightly surprised by the thick build he had. He was immediately on top of you again and you almost laughed at his haste.
You didn’t mean it literally and you didn’t fear him taking it as such considering he didn’t even know what it meant, he just knew you were cursing and being dirty.
You wondered if he even knew what you had inside your pants, scrapping that idea for another time instead so you didn’t get yourself too worked up thinking about how much it would ruin him to feel you.
He didn’t last long once he was back on top of you, only a few seconds passed before he was letting out a loud cry and hiccuping, his hips jutting against you a few more times in aftershock before he was collapsing on top of you.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He was sobbing into your neck and you wrapped your arms around his back, rubbing it slowly with an eye roll. “I’m sorry, God please forgive me.”
——
Jake had fallen asleep on top of you shortly after that, exhausted from everything you’d been putting him through both mentally and physically.
You let him lay there on top of you surprisingly despite how uncomfortable it was and how much you kept readying yourself to shove him off of you and leave him without any comfort, you simply couldn’t.
You weren’t quite sure why, it wasn’t like being mean to him was going to ruin your plan and make him not want to talk to you anymore. He was trapped now with you.
Yet you found yourself staying and not only staying but watching him as he slept. He looked younger like this, despite always being very puppy like and boyish you couldn’t deny that Jake was a man and he could be an intimidating one if it wasn’t for his personality. His eyelashes were long and fluttering like he was having a vigorous dream and his back would rise and fall with every deep inhale he took.
By the time he woke up you’d been laying there for probably an hour or two staring at him or looking around his room with curiosity, you felt him shifting against you and almost pretended you were asleep before deciding against it.
He froze his movements when he realized where he was exactly, or at least who it was underneath him. Then he was rolling off of you onto his back with a groan and you were suddenly feeling very cold without his weight and body warmth.
“Did my parents come home?” His voice was low and groggy from sleep and crying and you turned your head to look at him now that you were laying side by side.
“Are you kidding? Like your mother isn’t going to run in here the first second the car parks and hose you down.”
He laughed softly at your words, almost a scoff and your lip quirked up in a smile at his casual reaction, knowing his guard must be down since he was still so tired.
“She wouldn’t do that.” He eventually whispered and you could feel his shoulder pressing against yours. “At least the hose part.”
“Is she as bad as mine?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask him something so personal or why you were even making conversation with him in the first place but you were suddenly curious.
“Not sure.” He was looking at you, you could feel it on the side of your head. “My dad is though.”
You hummed as a response, already figuring that from the times you’d interacted with him and the way Jake talked about him earlier. You felt a sudden wave of discomfort at your current situation and fidgeted in your spot on the bed.
“Are you going to leave?” His voice was a whisper still and he wasn’t looking at you anymore from what you could tell. He sounded slightly upset like the thought of you leaving wasn’t pleasant.
“You wanted me to earlier.” You scoffed softly but it was humorless, for some reason feeling offended at the reminder despite knowingly doing everything in your power to make him uncomfortable for your own satisfaction.
He didn’t say anything for a while and you listened to him breathing softly, wondering if he caught on to the hint of insecurity you were accidentally showcasing.
“Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He eventually said and you barely heard him considering how low his voice had gotten.
“See you tomorrow Jake.”
——
Tuesday’s were another day that your schedule was slightly shifted after church service. You had always been instructed to some form of community service on that day of the week, wether is be picking up trash or teaching a small class to the elders and children.
You didn’t mind this despite your distaste for religion. You got some sick satisfaction from watching religious people interact, like babies excitedly chatting about fairy tails and wishing for a big grand gesture to fix their own shitty lives.
Plus it got you out of your house and kept you slightly on the good side of your mother typically although you doubt with your recent actions you’d ever be on that side of the fence again.
So it was particularly annoying when you were tasked to clean the church basement, an area usually unseen by anybody in the town including yourself.
It was a mess of overfilled shelves and baskets stacked to the brim with old holiday decorations or donations from past families that were never put to use.
You’d been hesitant to agree, having to try ten times harder than usual to apply your usual fake smile towards your father when you graciously nodded and accepted the task. Luckily a handful of other volunteers had also followed you down the creaky stairs, one of them being Jake.
Not on his own volition considering the way his eyes bulged out of his head when his father roughly nudged him as you stood at the center of the stage requesting helping hands. He hesitantly held his in the air and avoided making eye contact with you as you smiled happily.
The same smile you held now as you stood side by side with him, taking things off the shelves and throwing them into a trash pile. He looked more anxious than usual, like he was genuinely worried you’d try to do something to him while people were watching.
“Miss Y/N?” One of the older women who had volunteered was approaching the two of you, holding a small basket of, what looked like, old arts and crafts. “I found this and was wondering if you thought your father might want to hang them up in the youth study room?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea ma’am.” You were smiling widely at her, eyes soft and full of light. “You should bring them up to him.”
She was smiling appreciatively at you before turning and heading back up the stairs, missing the way your smile immediately dropped back into a blank expression.
Jake however, didn’t miss it and you heard him scoff from next to you as he observed the interaction. You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged.
“Don’t you get tired of doing that all the time?” He questioned and you faltered slightly. You hadn’t ever really considered it as something you were doing necessarily so his statement threw you off.
“I don’t know… I do it with everybody. I just do it.” You shrugged and awkwardly looked away from him, feeling confronted.
“You don’t do it with me.” He suddenly declared and you were reminded that you didn’t actually know Jake or his personality that well, completely caught off guard by his bluntness.
“Maybe because I knew you were just as bad as me.” You dropped your voice into a small whisper, leaning closer to him slightly as he glanced around to see which volunteers were over in your side of the basement.
He picked up an old toy and tossed it off in the distance, shaking his head in denial. “That’s not true at all.”
“Why isn’t it?” You cocked your head at him and stopped rummaging through the shelf, more interested in what he was saying. You turned your body so you were facing him and could lean against the wood.
“I believe in this.” He looked around the room as if to emphasize what he was referring to. “I love god.”
“Do you? Or have you just been told to?” You were already sure of the answer but you were curious what he would say about that, if he’s ever sat and thought that over or if his faith was really that unwavering.
“I never questioned it before.” He confirmed with a stern voice, sending you a sharp look so you would understand he was serious. “Not once in my life until we moved here. Not once until..”
He trailed off but the implication was heavy and he looked away with a bright flush on his face. He was obviously referring to you and you felt a small spark of satisfaction at the fact he was implying you were the first thing to ever make him doubt, implying that he was doubting at all.
He scowled slightly when he noticed the bright smile that was on your face, one you didn’t even realize you had.
“I’m serious Y/N. If anyone ever found out I…” He didn’t finish his sentence again but you could get the gist of what he was implying, your smile dropping into a frown.
“You think I don’t know that? The stakes are way higher on my side of things incase you forgot.” Your tone was harsher now but you were taking a step closer to him, not bothering to check if anybody was watching. “But you’re mine right? Like you said?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, turning to face you and taking a big gulp when he realized you were practically close enough to kiss now. You waited for him to say something against your claim, to tell you he had been lust drunk or he didn’t mean it.
Instead he slowly nodded, eyes shooting down awkwardly to your feet. His shy expression was one you were more familiar seeing him with and your smile returned.
“Can you come over today?” You whispered and he looked back at you with a shocked expression, clearly not expecting you to say that. “I have something to show you.”
He was nodding again, not trusting himself to speak without stuttering and you grinned, turning back to the shelf and continuing with your sorting.
——
By the time church was over and Jake got to your house, you were already sat outside on the porch in a big sweater and a scarf wrapped around your neck.
“Are we not.. going in?” He was standing at the end of your driveway, putting his bikes kickstand down and watching you with a confused expression.
“I said I had to show you something didn’t I?” He watched you as you stood from the cement slab, grabbing your own bike from off the side of your house and walking it down towards him with a half smile.
He didn’t say anything as you both got on your bikes, following behind you as you rode off the curb and down the street.
The ride was long and cold, the sky grey as you passed by old houses and empty shops that’d been abandoned as the owners aged. Jake found the town sad a bit but he was curious what you were leading him too and slightly excited that you wanted to spend time with him in a different way than normal.
Eventually you were crossing the threshold of the city limit, a big sign with chipping paint that was welcoming you in or wishing you safe travels out.
After that it wasn’t long before you were slowing to a stop, surrounded by trees and a large field. Jake watched you get off your bike with a raised eyebrow, waiting until you looked back at him with a beckoning hand.
“It’s this way.” You urged and he hopped off, pushing the bikes alongside each other until you were on the other side of the muddy field, approaching a large river. The sound of it was loud as it rushed but not loud enough to block out the noise of the highway across from it, just off in the distance.
Jake watched it as you unpacked your backpack that he didn’t even realize you’d been wearing until now, unfolding a thick blanket and laying it down on the wet grass.
“They can’t build houses over here because the river always overflows.” You started to explain, pulling out a thermos and something wrapped in paper towel as you talked. “The water levels higher than usual because all the rain we get.”
“Sometimes I wonder if they even know we are over here.” You continued with a scoff, sitting criss cross on the blanket now and looking over at Jake who was dropping his bike.
He sat down too, carefully keeping his wet and muddy shoes off of the fabric.
“Do you come here a lot?” He was muttering what felt like his first words of the day, looking around the area and seeing virtually no signs of civilization other than the highway. He wondered for a second if you had even been able to hear him over the sound of it.
“I guess. There isn’t much else to do if you haven’t noticed by now.” You were shrugging as you spoke, you stuck one of your legs out so it nudged against his.
“I’ve been pretty occupied since I’ve gotten here so I guess I didn’t.” His words made you laugh although he was being serious, only having gone from home to church to your room.
He didn’t say anything as you laughed and he still didn’t when you were suddenly moving out of your sitting position, crawling towards him on all fours until you could press yourself against him.
Every part of you was touching as you sat side by side, both facing the rushing river and trying to not focus on how cold it was outside, the sky slowly darkening now since it was around dinner time. That reminded you that you had packed sandwiches and you were leaning forward slightly to reach them, handing him one and watching him unwrap the paper towel in confusion.
His cheeks turned red when he saw what it was, glancing at you and nodding softly in appreciation before taking a bite.
“Why are we here?” He was breaking the silence the two of you had fallen into as you ate and passed the warm thermos back and forth, watching the highway and the building traffic.
“I don’t know.” You felt strangely vulnerable at this question, not really knowing yourself why you’d taken him to such a private place. “Don’t think too deeply about it.”
Your sudden change of tone made him frown and tense against you, a harshness seeping into your words as you reminded him what type of relationship you had going here.
To further prove your point that this wasn’t anything being sin and attraction, you were quickly turning your upper body so you could face him before leaning forward and pressing into a kiss. He froze completely for a few seconds, brain short circuiting at the sudden contact.
Then he was closing his eyes slowly and kissing you back, a low him of appreciation slipping through your lips and vibrating against his.
You turned your body more so you could climb over his legs, straddling him and making a small noise of surprise when his hands were immediately on your lower back, tugging you in tighter against him.
The two of you kissed like that for a while, you sitting comfortably in his lap and feeling him grow hard underneath you embarrassingly quick. He felt strong and sturdy under you but he was letting out little whines and whimpers and he kept trying to pull you in closer, almost like he was trying to merge the two of you together.
Then you were sitting up on your knees and tugging your long skirt up so it was bunched around your hips, mouth parting slightly at the feeling of the cold air nipping at your bare skin. He watched you with confusion, eyes darting around your legs so fast he felt dizzy.
You sat back down on his hard on, now only separated by his jeans and your underwear and he let out a low moan, shooting forward and ducking his head forward into your neck.
“Y/N.” He whined out and you shushed him, petting his hair and rocking your hips slowly against him, liking the way his mouth parted against your skin as he took deep shuddering breaths.
“I want you to feel me.” You were whispering into his hair and he picked his up in alarm, shaking his head and glancing down at your exposed lap.
“I- I don’t know how.” He was rushing out and you laughed softly, reaching down to grab his wrist off the blanket and pick his hand up.
You placed it against your stomach like it was the other day when he was pressing on it absentmindedly, letting him feel the smooth skin above your underwear line for a while before pushing his hand down slightly past the elastic and listening to his gasp.
You were still rocking against him but slower now, letting him feel you for the first time at his own pace and trying not to overwhelm him.
His hand was shaking fast, from the cold and nerves. You imagined he could feel his own hand pressing against his cock as he kept moving it down, trapping it between the both of you. You dipped down again when he hesitatingly stopped moving it once he was fully in your underwear and he let out a cry at the feeling of your wetness against his skin.
“W-what?” He was crying out in concern, eyes shooting up to look at yours. “Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”
“I’m wet.” You explained to him with a breathy voice despite the fact you knew he didn’t understand what that would mean or if it was good or bad. “Means I feel good, you make me feel good.”
That seemed to alarm him more than the idea of you bleeding, his hand instinctively twitching and pressing against you. You leaned down to kiss him again and he reciprocated, forgetting his hand was on you for a few seconds before you were lowering your hips again.
He wasn’t doing anything but just the feeling of his large hands cupping you was making you feel dizzy, rocking against him again despite the strange noise he let out.
“Touch me baby c’mon.” He looked up at you at the sound of your urging, eyes big and wet. He looked nervous but he hesitatingly moved his fingers, curling slightly and pressing against your clit. You let out a cry and he immediately froze, mistaking it for pain. “No Jake, it’s okay do it again.”
He didn’t look sure but he followed your instructions anyways, curling his hand up and being amazed by the way you threw your head back in a small cry.
The two of you seemed to forget about your surroundings, about the rushing lake or the freezing air that was only making the cold grass more bitter to sit in. You almost forgot who you were or the fact you were only a few minutes outside of town, practically riding Jake in a field visible to anyone who cared.
“You’re so pretty.” You remarked and he frowned at your gentle word causing you to lean forward and kiss him softly. “I want to keep you forever.”
You were too lust drunk to think about the heavy implication of your words or the fact saying them went against everything you’d previously been attempting. The whole reason you’d even started touching him today was to distract him from the fact you’d taken him to a place personal to you, to make him forget your act of kindness.
“You can keep me.” He was stuttering out in a high voice, not really sure if you meant what you were saying considering how confusing he found you, how strange this whole situation was.
Jake had accepted at some point that his life was changing now and for some reason, god had put you in his path. At first he figured you were some type of test of faith, if he could just ignore you and your evil nature then he’d be able to prove he was a good man, a holy man. But he began to wonder eventually if you were truly as terrible as he originally thought, as his mother kept remarking every time his father wasn’t in the room.
You made him cry and you occasionally would say terrible things to him. And it was no doubt you had a habit of sinning and making him sin, even when he didn’t want to.
But he thought you were kind at other times and he could tell by the way you zoned out in church during service and were nice to the young residents or helpful to the old, that you didn’t have no emotion. Maybe you were right, although you had a twisted way of teaching him about it.
You were leaning down to kiss him again and he was taking his hand out of your underwear, wiping it on his pants briefly before cupping your face in both his palms and keeping you there.
“Did I ruin you?” You were muttering against his panting mouth with a small smile, hands petting his hair affectionately.
“Almost.” He answered with a slight laugh, kissing you again.
——
By the time you and Jake had left the field, giggling together while you stuffed the wet blanket back into your backpack and jumped over mud puddles, the sun was set and gone.
You followed the streetlights home, walking the bikes side by side the entire time so the 20 minute ride turned into an hour walk.
You went a few streets without talking for a while, listening to the sounds of your tires rolling over gravel or the music nature provided from the surrounding woods just off in the distance. By the time you were crossing back into city limits and setting your sights on the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town, your curiosity was weighing on you.
“Why did you move here anyways?” You were mumbling on accident so you weren’t sure he had heard you until he cleared his throat.
“A council member caught dad hitting mom.” He said it casually and you wondered if he was used to it or it was a practiced tone. “I guess they thought it’d look bad to punish him there so they sent us away.”
“Does he hit you too?” You weren’t sure why you asked that considering you were already pretty positive of the answer.
“Yeah sometimes.” He shrugged and tried not to fidget at the feeling of you watching him, kicking at a loose rock in the gravel road. “I think he’s mad I’m not very manly.”
“I think you’re manly.” You were frowning and furrowing your eyebrows, only deepening when you heard him let out a disbelieving scoff. “I’m serious.”
And you were. Despite Jake’s outwardly timid personality and the way he basically turned into a nervous obedient puppy everytime you got your hands on him, he was clearly a man. Both in his broad athletic build and in his day to day actions and personality. He was blunt and honest, telling you what he felt even if he thought it might anger you.
“Yeah, whatever.” He was whispering, still not trusting what you were saying and you froze in your tracks, stood directly under a streetlight. He slowed to a stop when he realized you were walking anymore and looked back at you in confusion.
“You wouldn’t have picked on me if I was manly.” He was explaining once he caught sight of your frustrated expression. “You probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.”
“You think I’m picking on you?” You ignored his second statement for now, eyes darkening at the implication of the first.
You weren’t sure why it struck a nerve within you considering he wasn’t half wrong. You had originally sought him out as a victim for you, an experiment or a game. Maybe even a way to further upset your mother, but you didn’t think he thought you were picking on him entirely.
“I don’t know what to think.” He was shaking his head and his eyes looked sad. He started to push his bike again and you rushed to catch up with him. “This is just confusing.”
“Well I’m not.” You kept your voice firm in an attempt to assure him and he didn’t say anything else, sparing you a long glance before looking back forward so he didn’t accidentally hit a pothole.
The two of you didn’t talk anymore after that, walking in a comfortable silence as you slowly got to a more familiar area for him and he realized you were slowly approaching his neighborhood. You must be planning on dropping him off before making you own way home he decided.
Those plans were quickly halted when you turned the corner of his street and saw your own parents car in his driveway, right next to the Sim’s. You both froze in place and stared in front of you in horror.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence.” He whispered and you jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, the words shaking slightly. “We can tell them we got caught up studying at the park.”
“If they’re here they already know.” You immediately stated in a flat voice, having a sick gut feeling as you looked at the two cars. The lights were on in Jake’s living room and you could vaguely make out multiple shadows walking around inside. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe your dad heard something the other day.” He was rushing out in a hush, looking at you and your uncharacteristically frozen figure. He’d never seen you scared before and it made his skin crawl. “Or that lady in the basement.”
“No that’s not possible, I was-“ Your words faltered and you sucked in a panicked breath, trying to recall the two incidents he was talking about. You had been so caught up in your giddiness to talk to him that you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings this morning at all, saying damning idiotic things to him in the church of all places.
His hand was coming up and brushing against your arm that was covered in goosebumps. “Go home. I’ll think of a cover for you, I’ll handle it.”
You looked at him with big eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the fact he was willingly to lie for you so easily, willing to sin to both his parents and yours so you could be spared from punishment.
“I can’t leave you with them.” You were shaking your head in earnest and he deflated, understanding immediately there was no way of talking you out of it.
You both stood there for a few more beats, staring at each other under the street light and you briefly wondered if you’d see him again after this. You weren’t sure what your parents knew or if they were just following a strong hunch but you knew it didn’t matter. The second they suspected anything, atleast the men, you wouldn’t be allowed to see Jake anymore.
Eventually he took the first step, setting his bike down at the corner of the street and nudging for you to follow suit although you gave him a confused glance.
Following closely behind him, you tried to match his slow casual pace approaching the door and almost felt like you were going to throw up on the porch when he pushed it open without knocking, deciding to not give them any warning you were approaching.
The sight was just as dreadful as you imagined it would be, your parents sat on the Sim’s old couch while his were standing at attention and listening to whatever it was your father had been saying before your arrival.
All heads turned in your direction when you entered, half looking surprised you were together and the others showing no reaction. Your mother was immediately leaping up from the couch and approaching you with a scowl.
You felt her hand hitting your cheek before you even processed she was crossing the room, your head shooting sideways as your own palms came up to grasp your face in shock. Despite your differences, your mother had never directly struck you.
“You’re a disgrace.” She spat, literally, in your direction and you vaguely saw Jake flinch in your direction like he wanted to grab you. “No more games little girl, they finally see what I have all these years.”
One glance in your fathers direction told you she was telling the truth. He’d never been a good father but he wasn’t cruel, choosing religion over warmth and parenting. So upon seeing his cold stare you automatically knew things were too far gone.
“And you.” She was turning to sneer in Jake’s direction now and you were slightly surprised to see him square back his shoulders, jaw clenching. “How can you be so stupid?”
“Mary, please advise yourself on how you speak to my son.” Jake’s mother was piling up from the couch “I thought we agreed that your daughter is the one at fault here.”
“What?” Jake was spitting out and your eyes widened, wanting to tell him to shut up and let it run its course. “It was as much me as it was her.”
“No it wasn’t.” You were shaking your head at lightning speed, taking a step forward but rocking back again when your mother shot a glare in your direction. “It was all me.”
Jake was glaring at you but you knew he held no anger, only frustration that you were attempting to take the punishment for this. He was crazy to think you wouldn’t considering it was all your doing in the first place.
“It doesn’t matter.” Your fathers cool and calm voice was ringing out and everybody turned to look at him. “Tomorrow morning Y/N will be sent to a correctional school. I should’ve listened to your mother when she begged me to send you years ago.”
Your eyes were watering as you looked at him with pure betrayal. Despite your hatred for your town, for your longing to leave and never return you felt an overwhelming sense of panic at the thought of being sent away. You looked over at Jake to find him already watching you with the same panic in his eyes.
Then he was turning back towards your father with a shake of his head and a stony expression. “I won’t let you do that.”
Jake’s father scoffed, making his first noise of the night and you glanced over at his large frame. He was watching Jake with disgust and amusement but you saw a faint hint of a challenge in his eyes.
“And what will you do son?” He was approaching Jake with a sneer, looking down at him. Jake raised his chin to meet his stare, his hands shaking against his sides. “You can’t even protect your own mother.”
It was said in a whisper so only Jake could hear it but you were standing close enough to faintly catch it, mouth parting in shock at his blunt admission before opening further when Jake was suddenly moving faster than you could even pinpoint when he had started.
Jake was on his father before he even had a chance to prepare for it and you could hear the shrieks of the women, your own fathers grunts as he jumped off the couch to try and control the situation. You were standing on the side, hands out and trying to grip a hold of Jake’s jacket to tug him back when he glanced back at your hurriedly while his dad was disoriented.
“Go.” He mouthed the word at you and you felt your heart shatter slightly, shaking your head in denial before he gave you a firm nod and a soft smile.
You could do nothing but watch in horror as his dad took advantage of him being distracted, slamming Jake onto the ground, nearly blocking the front door. You took your chance to run before somebody realized you were going to and stopped you, sparing Jake one last look before heading out the door.
You aggressively wiped your tears as you ran down the street, sobbing as you could still hear the screams and grunts of pain from Jake coming from the door you’d left open. Your cheek was stinging still but you powered through it, letting the cold numb you as you hopped on your bike you’d abandoned under the light and started peddling so hard your thighs burned.
The wind was howling as you sped past your own neighborhood and the church, the empty buildings a blur through your teary eyes and you fell off your bike once you finally approached the field you’d been in earlier that day, landing in the mud with a cry.
You left your bike near the entrance, wobbling closer to the river with harsh sobs ripping through you, your knees and skirt dripping in mud.
For a moment you wondered if this was it. If you’d been wrong your entire life about religion and sin and this was god letting you know he was here and he was furious with you for the evil you let harvest.
If taking Jake and hurting him was all because you had done bad things and harmed the people around you. You let out a scream of frustration and looked up at the dark grey, wanting to tell him you didn’t care if he was watching and it wasn’t fair.
Instead you let yourself fall against the wet grass, curling into a ball and hugging your knees to your chest as you listened to the rushing river and the honks of traffic. You briefly remembered you were still wearing your backpack and it contained a blanket you could cover up with but you had no energy left to reach back to get it.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there crying, the sky getting darker and darker as you sat and waited.
You weren’t positive what you were even waiting for. Maybe for your parents to come searching for you so they could drag you away to some far away place or maybe the more hopeful part of you was waiting for Jake to come, to tell you he was okay.
The thought of him made you cry harder when you remembered the sounds he was making as you ran out and how furious his father looked about being struck. A man with an ego was dangerous especially when it got wounded.
Waves of guilt were rushing over you for dragging Jake into your twisted fantasies, for wanting to keep him even after you’d gotten what you wanted. For liking him despite not knowing you were capable of that until he arrived. You wished the river would fill up and swallow you inside it.
Over all the combined sounds you barely registered a few being added.
You didn’t hear the sound of the bike tires approaching, or the splashing of the mud puddles underneath hurried feet. You didn’t hear his worried pants or the desperate call of your name in the distance.
It wasn’t until he was there did you feel him, it wasn’t until he was reaching down to grab your arm.
Not until it was skin on skin.
#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fanfiction#jake enhypen#heeseung#heeseung drabbles#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#jake x reader#sunghoon enhypen#jake drabbles#jake au#jake smut#jake fluff#jake fanfic#jake sim#enhypen smut
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Promise Me | Part I
When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.
Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)
Words: 6.5k++ (hella long bc lots to cover in the story building part)
Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: just slow induced angst for your daily consumption (i guess?) It has a hopeful ending so don't let the first warning chase you away. reincarnation concept. an attempt to follow exact mcu timeline (forgive if i'm wrong at certain parts). slight religious contents. grief & loss. graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide. a lot of reader's pov, story building > dialogs (sorry guys).
P/S: Another impulsive writing from me y'all. I hope you don't get bored of this tendency of mine lol. I just need to let the fantasies out before it consumes me. So... anyway, it's gonna be another 3 parts fic cause for the love of god, I cannot commit for more :') Also, my first attempt of writing 40's bucky!!! I'm honestly scared. I hope you like it!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Italy, 1943 – His return
If it was one thing that Bucky should expect when he decided to be in a relationship with Y/N was that he had to accept her for who she was; stubborn, clumsy, bold, clever, sweet and most certainly the prettiest dame he ever met.
He might have unknowingly signed up for it the moment he quite literally fell for her at one of those Stark's science expo. Bucky had been stealing glances at this one pretty lady in the crowd, adored in soft mint dress that falls right below her knees.
It wasn't even a scandalous dress to wear in public but somehow Bucky was more than ecstatic to marvel at her beauty. There was no such thing as a too long of a stare, especially when she laughed like that; throwing her head in amusement, the loose strands of her curls fall back across her shoulders as they slightly shook to the rhythm of her laughter.
A careless misstep, that Bucky could see from a mile away, had caused her to stagger backwards and twisted her ankle into an inevitable fall. Somehow, Bucky managed to slither his way through the crowd towards her, almost jumping forward to catch her before she landed on the ground.
Not only that he was the one who fell first, but he also fell hard.
So, it was expected that Bucky knew what he had got himself into. At least, that was what Y/N had been repeating in her head to convince herself for what she had done. Now that she was sitting at the back of the wobbly military truck, the fear had slowly started to seep into her, causing shivers to crawl all over her nerves.
Y/N just knew it in her guts that Bucky would be absolutely furious when he sees her but what does he expect her to do when she hadn't receive any letters from him for months now. So, when she heard that they needed more medical helpers at the Italy base, she signed up without thinking twice about it.
"There has been a recent attack on the 107th. Too many casualties and much more whose heavily injured. You might have your hands full the moment you arrive to the base. There are few rules..." The lieutenant's voice was rigid just as his demenour when he continued to inform the situation to the troops of medical staff.
No matter how much she wanted to pay attention to his words, Y/N couldn't help but to tune in only at his first few sentences. Casualties, heavily injured. Her hands moved to search for the cross pendent hanging from the necklace around her collarbone, gripping it tight as she prayed that her lover was not categorized under any of those dire circumstances.
What the lieutenant said in that truck could never be more true as the moment they stepped into the medic tent, Y/N and the others were quickly pulled to assist the fallen men. It was truly heartbreaking and horrid to witness the dreading truth behind what the public posed as the "heros of the country'.
Surely they were proud to fight for the nation but then again no human being should ever had to suffer the consequences of war; not the civilians and certainly not the soldiers.
After seemingly hours of continuous stitching, wrapping and patching up; surrounded sound of groaning pain and the endless cycle of inhaling the distinct scent of fresh blood, burned flesh and the bitter of anticeptic odor; the injured soldiers were finally taken care of and had been put to rest.
Y/N looked around the tent, noting the unorganized mess around the patients; the result of the panic and chaos of the whole situation. A thought came to her mind, she might need to do some cleaning up before writing down medical record for each one of the patients.
That was when the lieutenant entered into the tent, and his stern gaze swiftly analyzed the much calmer scene, "Thank you for your service, everybody. I assume the soldiers are stabilized?"
"Yes, sir." One of the battalion doctor replied as he approached, while the rest of the team watched from where they stood.
The lieutenant simply nodded, "Good." He paused for awhile and looked around, "Now, have any of you met Captain America before?"
There were bunch of no's murmured around the medical staff, some of them just shook their head as an answer and the lieutenant nodded again as he informed, "Well, I guess you are all just darn lucky cause he's here to perform. You are invited to come and join the others to watch, if you want to."
"Steve's here?" She thought to herself.
As the lieutenant continued to explain some things about accommodation, food and medical supplies, Y/N's head were filled with thought that her dear friend, Steve was there too.
"I wonder if he gotten any words from James."
"Maybe he got letters from him?"
"Or could it be that he was here to find James too?
There were so many questions kept circulating in her head that by the time she snapped out of them, the lieutenant was already long gone and some of the medic staff went out to untangle themselves from the hours of stressful tension.
As a nurse herself, she felt the need to take care of her patients and finish her job before anything else. So, she started to clean up the shredded clothes, bloodied guazes and the other medical tools that needed to be sterilized and put away.
By the time she finished, it finally dawned to her that there was no trace of Bucky in the medic tent. Which means he didn't fall into the heavily injured category. So, there was two left; the one she prayed for and the other that dreaded her to even think about.
Y/N quickly made her way towards the tent where she can find the soldier in charge. However, if she was focused during one of the lieutenant's speech in the truck, she would've heard that she and the others were not authorized to enter certain parts of the base, which include the higher ups' tents.
When she was turned down by the soldiers, she sadly walked away towards the main area where Steve was supposed to perform. The drag of her feet across the dusty sand was heavy but no more heavier than the burden in her heart.
She watched as her black pump shoes gradually covered with light sand. Finding it odd that a few weeks ago she was standing on the shiny tile of a hospital in Brooklyn and now she was halfway across the world in the middle of the chaos of a war.
The things she'd do for love.
Soon enough, the dry ground was wet from the sudden down pour, turning it into a murky soggy path. Y/N quickly ran towards the main area where apparently the show was long over. "Did I missed Steve?" She thought as she stepped into the tent where the performers supposed to be.
The tent turned out to be empty and only the sound of drizzling raindrops above it was left behind. She looked around the area and saw the costumes for the performers were still there; the pleated white and red skirt hanging on the rack, white gloves clipped with them, the captain's shield with notes sticking at the back of it and the iconic blue helmet-mask thingy plastered with the obvious letter.
She peeked a little to the right only to see Steve hunched down on the floor, curling into himself just as he always did back when he was left beaten up in the alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn. She guessed that the upgrade of his size doesn't really change his habits.
Y/N walked closer to see him holding his sketchbook on one hand and another was a pencil pressing across the paper, lining the drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. "I guess the serum does not amplify your art skills huh Steve?" she teased as she approached the blonde man.
Steve lifted up his head as he turned towards the familiar voice, "y/n?" His face lit up as he recognized her face. He stood on his feet and pulled her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you." He sighed, he haven't seen her since his departure when she insisted for him to stay.
But alas, Steve was also as stubborn as her.
It took awhile for him to process it but when it came to him, he gently pushed her away, "Wait.. what are you doing here?" His brows creased into a worried frown.
Y/N simply smiled as she responded, "They needed help, so I volueentered."
Steve shook his head in disbelief, "Bucky made me promise not to let you do stuff like this." In which Y/N countered, "And he also remind you not to do anything stupid until he get back so..." she purposely trailed her words for him to draw the conclusion on his own.
He let out a long sighed before concluding, "Bucky's gonna kill us."
Since, Bucky was in the topic, Y/N took the oppurtunity to asked Steve about him, "About that, have you heard--"
A woman's voice came from her back, cutting in between her words, "Steve?"
Steve nervously untangled himself from Y/N as he shyly greeted the woman, "Hi."
The woman continued to stare at Y/N trying to figure out her role and relationship with Steve but before she could get any strange idea, he quickly introduced her, "This is y/n. She's my good friend from home."
A spark of realization glint through her eyes "I see. I'm Peggy. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards Y/N, in which Y/N gladly shook it in hers as she reintroduced herself, "You too. I'm y/n."
After the brief exchange of smile between the two ladies, Steve continued to asked Peggy, "What are you doing here?"
Peggy sighed as she explained, "Officially, I'm not here at all." She paused as she picked her words, "I just came by to oversee the situation after the recent attack."
Although Y/N knew what Peggy meant, she was one of the medic staff that had been stitching up the aftermath of that attack after all. However, Steve on the other hand seemed to be lost.
Peggy further explained, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano, more than 200 men went up against him and less than 50 returned." She paused, "Your audience contained what's left of the 107th."
Steve's blues widen in realization that almost looked much like panic, "The 107th?"
"What?" Peggy prompt quickly.
Steve then turned his head to Y/N, "Bucky?" He questioned shortly.
But even she was hoping that he'll know something about Bucky, apparently she was wrong, "I tried to ask but I'm not authorized to enter the tent. I was hoping you heard from him."
Seeing the panic in Steve's eyes, she knew that her lover was no where near the safety that she prayed for. But before fear could set in, Steve sprinted out of the tent, "Come on!" he shouted as Y/N and Peggy ran closely behind him.
When they arrived to the tent, fortunately they had the permission to enter with the help of Peggy. "Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?" Colonel Philips greeted in a teasing manner.
Steve didn't even bother to greet the colonel as he demanded, "I need the casualty list from Azzano." In which the Philips responded, "You don't get to give me orders, son."
Knowing that arguments won't help the situation, he control his tone of voice and spoke, "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th." He took a short breath and insisted, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"
Colonel Phillips stood on his feet as he walked towards a table behind him, "I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count." He paused before turning around to eye on Steve and briefly on the very worried looking nurse next to him.
"But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." There was a flash of sincerity in his eyes when he looked towards Y/N.
The optimistic Steve continued to insist more about other possibilities than casualties, "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" They went back and forth about the what is the 'right' thing to do, "Yes, it's called 'winning the war'. "
And suddenly sound of the heavy rain fall was all Y/N could hear, then comes the booming of her heartbeat as the panic started to deprive her of any optimism, clouding her judgment to think of anything near to positive outcomes such as Steve.
It was getting harder to breath and the anxitey slowly choked her, forcing tears to pool in her eyes. Peggy swiftly took a hold on Y/N, before her knees managed to fall to the ground. The muffled sound of Peggy's voice managed to come through but not enough to wake her from the despair.
Before she knew it, Steve was already gone for an unauthorized rescue mission with the help from Peggy. And ever since, Y/N had spend every waking moment digging her knees into the uneven ground. Her elbows bruised from how hard she propped them on the steel edge of the army green cot. Her palms almost dented to shape of the silver cross as she desperately squeeze it between her hold.
She prayed and prayed for his return. For both of her dearest to be safe, to find their way home.
And for a moment Y/N thought her prayers were graciously granted by God, as the crowd was getter louder and the circle of soldiers were geting thicker when the survivors joined the rest of them. There were chantings of "Captain America" that echoed throughout the base and that gave her relief to know that Steve was safe.
But it was not enough to tame her anxiousness. Y/N's focus has never been sharper when her eyes scanned the crowd, she slithered her way between the jumping joy of the soldiers, grabbing onto some men who she mistook as Bucky until she saw him.
Her heartbeat ramped increasingly as she pushed through the soldiers, finding strength from the blood pumping excitement when she recognize those steel blues and that cheeky smile. Not long before she managed to grab onto his hand and pulled his attention to her.
It was brief but he knew that face anywhere; and suddenly his whole body was engulf into a familiar tight hug that he thought he could never be able to feel again. "James." her voice still stuttered even if it was just one word that came out of her lips.
"y/n?" Bucky called her name, almost in disbelief.
God, she never knew that she was able to miss his voice this much.
"Doll, what you doing here?" He gently lead her away, which she reluctantly followed, "I'm here for you." There was no need of lies now that Bucky was here in her arms.
His gaze soften with a mix of concern and joy, "What do you mean you're here for me?" Bucky couldn't help but to let out a short laugh, "Sweetheart, you do realized that you're in the middle of a war?" His brows quirked as he reminded.
Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, she realized that. The moment she saw that form for enlistment, she knew. But, it didn't stop her to sign up, does it?
She laced her fingers into his, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James." she whispered as she leaned closer, "So, please just shut up and kiss me."
Bucky might have just realized it now; what a stubborn, demanding, crazy little lover got himself. Though at the same time, she had never charmed him more.
Bucky sighed in defeat before running his tongue on his lower lip, "Well then, come here you little minx" he took her by the head and gave her the most desperate yet sweetest kiss she could never forget.
Brooklyn, 1944 – Promises, promises
It was the day that Steve, Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos were depolying to the Austrian Alps for one of the biggest mission since Captain's impulsive rescue mission in Italy last year.
Apparently, Zola was on the move and predicted to be passing though the location while travelling on a train.
This wasn't the first time she had sent Bucky away, but the fear of each always felt like it was her first; especially when she thought about the promise of death that's chained to a soldier's fate.
The closer the time of departure, the stronger her grip on Bucky's uniform becomes. And Bucky didn't need to say anything because he knows her too well; she won't take any of his sweet words as a cure for her distress.
Bucky slowly swayed her from side to side as their embrace tightens with need; her face hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms secured around her waist. He had to smile as it reminded him of their late night dance, barefoot on the kitchen floor of his apartment.
He could feel the teasing gaze coming from his back as well as the whistles of the Howling Commandos playfully making fun of him. Bucky was also well aware of the fact that everyone had made theirs bets on when will the Sargent James B. Barnes finally get down on his knees for his little nightingale of a nurse.
Unsurprisingly, Steve might just win the bet afterall. That punk just had know everything about him.
Y/N closer snuggled into him one last time, "Come home to me, James." She whispered against his skin before pulling away. Teary eyes threatened to spill its salty liquid as she looked up at him, "Promise me."
Bucky's charming smile lighten his features as he leaned to press a kiss in her forehead, "I promise."
Brooklyn, 1945 – Loved and lost
Months gone by, entered the new year, and it always felt like eternity for Y/N. She spent nights kneeling next to her bed and days on the church's floor; practically begging to God for the life of her lover, for keeping him away from death.
And the letters from Bucky also come and goes within those few months' time, with his promises of coming home that's laced in the words of his longing and love for her.
But, little did she knew, that promise met it's end of the bargain when the dreaded letter came to her hands. It came from the man she met back in Italy base, Colonel Phillips, sending the words of condolences for the death Sargent James B. Barnes during his honourable mission at the Austrian Alps.
But the first time she read to words, it didn't even register in her head. It was as if her brain failed to translate the message for her to understand. Y/N had been re-reading the same lines over and over and over until it finally clicked.
The usually bright eyes of hers were now slowly filled with tears, she was in the state of shock; that even if her brain knew exactly what had happened but her heart wasn't ready for it.
The tears started to fall down onto the letter. Drip by drip. And all of the sudden she lost every word that she could ever think of. Her silent scream; suffocating her with each breath she took desperately gripping onto the fragile piece of paper, holding it to her chest hold as if that would help to ease the pain in her heart.
Y/N could feel it in her ripping guts. How all the threads of every joyful memories she could ever once recall; they unraveled in a way that broke her to pieces until they were all but a rumpled of strings scattered about her feet.
A sharp fall had forced Y/N down to her knees, skin digging into the hard floor as her hands trembled silently, clutching onto the letter.
At first when she opened her mouth, there was not a single sound came out as her breath ripped from her lungs. Each left her with scars of loss and every waking minute in this reality was just pure pain.
Her body bend forward until her forehead meets the floor, that was when she wailed; an agonizing scream that left a haunting memory to the neighbours around her apartment.
She cried like there was too much raw pain inside that she could never contained. She cried like her soul needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release a loathful rage on the world.
But it was more than just crying, it was the sobbing of a woman that drained of all hope. She sank on floor, willing herself to be swallowed by the dread and loss. Just screaming out the agonies that been dancing across her vulnerable veins.
Her chest violently quivered as she was desperately trying to catch the air. She collected every last energy that she had to call out the name of the lover she had loss, "James.." Her gasping breath whispered against the floor, "You promised."
A month later the nation celebrate to the announcement to the end of a war, but to Y/N it was just another wave of mourning grief to a loss of another precious person in her life; Steve.
Amidst the loud sound of cheering and laughter, she rushed away from the crowd to the place that she had put all her faith into. Stumbling through the empty church and falling at the feet of Jesus' statue, Y/N looked up at the face if God with loath, rage, despair, and tears.
The night was brighten to the flashing light from the firework but all she could think of was how similar the sound of it to a firing canon in the war. And the thought of Bucky and Steve run through her mind.
She had been nothing but faithful to the lord, religiously prayed for no more than saving the life of people she held dear to her heart.
But, God thought it would be merciful to let them die.
Y/N harshly ripped the cross necklace from her neck, tearing her skin apart in the process. She gripped on the cross in her hands, much like she would few month back but for completely different reason.
The crimson of her blood tainted her white collar of her nurse uniform as she she cursed the all mighty God for what he had done. Ever since, she swore to herself to never be naive to the illusion of God's mercy ever again.
Washington D.C., 2014 – An old friend
Fate is full with irony and God has his way of twisting them for his own pleasure.
When Y/N died in the 60's, old and unmarried, even if she doesn't believe in God anymore, her dying wish was to be able to meet her lover and friend again.
At least one more time.
But lo and be hold, God had different plans for her. Y/N's body did die that night on the hospital bed but her soul never did. It was as if she was woken up from sleep in another body with the same face as her, that's when she realized she has been reincarnated.
Apparently, she was only born in the same family lineage as her original life; whether coming from her younger brother or cousin or anyone related back to her bloodline. And sharing even the tiniest amount of blood of her own, triggers every single memory from her previous life.
This wasn't what she wanted.
She didn't want to live knowing she cannot be with Bucky.
So on the 2nd life, she did the unthinkable. She took her own life, thinking that she would finally leave the world behind but she didn't.
It happened again.
And again.
And again.
So, when she reached her 6th life, she realized that she will never able to meet James and Steve ever again; that was when she went rogue.
Her 6th life was filled with rage and vengeance that she took the idea of life very lightly. So, instead of living until the old days, she searched for revenge and got herself tragically killed in the process.
Now, the 18 year old Y/N was in her 7th life, with a new name that was given by her 7th parents, "Evelyn" , and the spitting image of her 1st life. From her dark raven hair to the light brown of her eyes. This time, she decided to try to accept the cruel fate; the cursed that God had placed on her for the sin that she made decades ago.
Y/N walked around the Smithsomian Museum, specifically at the American history section where they put up Captain America's exhibit. It's been how many lifetimes since she surround herself with knowledge of a past that she once lived.
This was the first time, since her first life. And most probably the last time since she was going overseas in a week to continue her studies in Asia.
She walked along the line up display of the Howling Commandos suits, remembering the living flesh of them as she took steps forward to each, stopping in front of Bucky's.
Flashes of him appeared to where the figure stood; the memories was so vivid that she could still feel fabric of his suit against her, the electrifying feeling on his skin on her own.
She ripped her gaze away just to be greeted by the portrait of Bucky, plastered so hugely on the memorial of one of the Howling Commandos section. Despite the cracking of her heart, her body move on its own; as they knew that deep down, Y/N's heart will always be yearning for her lover.
Her gaze soften with longing and nostalgic as she slowly blink at his features. His considerably messy hair, that little frown that he does to act mysterious for the ladies, and the thin layer of beard that she loved to leave her lipstick marks on.
Y/N's daydream were cut short when someone pulled her by the arm, startling her into a defensive mode. Her 6th life's habit almost broke through when she nearly flipped the man on the floor but thankfully she stopped herself as she recognized those blue eyes.
The man's face looked pale like he had seen a ghost, as he uttered a name that she haven't heard for decades, "y/n?"
"Steve..." she called his name wordlessly.
She knew he was alive. Everybody does, when the news came out in 2011, she was merely a 15 year old kid back then. Apparently, the super soldier serum helped him to survive the ice.
She remembered how her parents rushed to her room when they heard the sudden cluttering sounds of panic upstairs, only to find their daughter on the floor looking pale while her cup of iced coffee spilling in all over her study desk as the viral youtube video of Captain America running through New York city barefoot.
She remembered the feeling of both disbelief and joy that rushed through body as her parents helped her to sit up on her bed. The moment that it sunk into her head, she began to cry. Streams of joyful tears broke from her shaky body, each drop washed the painful burden in her heart as her parents lulled her to sleep.
Y/N never made an effort to meet him after knowing truth because who would've believe her words?
She wasn't Steve. There wasn't any super soldier serum in her blood. There wasn't any tank of chemical that drown her with power.
She was cursed and now she had to live with it.
Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trapped in a spiralling confusion of his own. He examined each of her features and he had not a single doubt that she has the same face to an old friend in the 40's.
The same friend that he knew died of old age in the 60's.
But, how come the person managed to have the exact same face to hers. Now that he looked closer, she was younger than the last time he saw Y/N. She looked like she was in her teens, "Are you really y/n?" His voice was soft as he muttered.
Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks, holding back the urge of telling him the truth, "Sorry, I think you got the wrong person." she tried to untangle his grasp around the thin of her arm.
Even her voice was similar to Y/N, and she was looking at Bucky's photo like she knew him.
How could she say that she's was not Y/N?
Steve reluctantly let go of her arms and took a step away after seeing the distress on her face, "I-I'm sorry. You remind me of someone I know." He couldn't take his eyes off her.
She was just too similar looking to someone precious that he left behind.
"It's okay, sir." She smiled gently, like the way she usually does when Steve apologizes for his impulsiveness of picking a fight in alleyways. She looked up to the taller man as she continued, "Thank you for being alive..." she hesitated to call him by his name so instead she called for his other name, "...Captain."
She thanked him sincerely before walking away, leaving Steve to reminisce the memories of his life with Y/N and Bucky as he stared at Bucky's memorial.
The next week, she left the United States for Asia where she planned to spend 4 years studying at the National University of Singapore, leaving her past behind in hopes of moving forward with her life, refusing to care about the avengers shenanigans anymore, including her dear friend, Steve.
New York, 2018 – New norms
When half of the population was wiped out from the earth, two of them was Y/N's parents. And like every other people who had lost their loved ones during the blip, her parents sudden absence truly take a toll on her, especially when she was planning to live a long life with them.
After graduating and getting a decent job in Singapore, she was forced to go back to New York when it happened. Y/N couldn't just let her childhood house left abandoned, she simply can't let that happen.
You would thought a person who had multiple lifetimes would be used to losing someone they love but no. It only gets worst as the years go by.
The more Y/N tried to fit into the new norms, the more that she could feel herself slipping into old habits of her 6th life.
Until that one drunken night when she visited the Smithsomian Museum again after years of forcing herself to forget about him; it took her one look at the potrait of Bucky, she knew what she had to do.
Germany, 2023 – An old nemesis
Nearly 5 years into the blip and Y/N was already becoming a legend in the underground scene. They called her the Deathstalker. She never really knew the origin of it but nevertheless she chooses to stick with the newly founded identity.
With the skills she picked up on her 6th life, she easily became the most deadly assassin in the business, seemingly in a constant competition of reputation with the highly popular, black widow assassins.
Though she couldn't care less about who was winning the battle, she only cares about tracking anything or anyone related to Hydra.
After that fateful night at the museum, she couldn't to think that this must be her calling.
If the curse made her technically immortal, then why not became the hunter destined to slay the monster. They said that Hydra will never die, but so was she. And if anything good came out from this curse, then she might as well use it to avenge Bucky.
And bring the old nemesis to the ground.
Her 6th life was similar to this but she wasn't going to make the same mistake. The flaming greed to have her revenge was too strong back then, it lead her to be hasty and clumsy, which then let her to an early death.
But, she's grown out of those immaturity.
Nowadays, she takes her time and still get the job done flawlessly. Just like she is now, when the soft but dark sound of her chuckle, interrupted the silence that had claimed the room.
The poor man was sitting limp on the chair with his body tied with it. He had been like this for seemingly hours with a knife in one of his thighs, which trembled with the vibrations of his body.
More so, when Y/N twisted them, causing a keen of pain to clawed up his throat and spilled out a hoarse groan.
"Where is it?" Her fingers wrapped around the handle, as she watched the man tossed his head, more with fear than trying to answer.
"I don't like to repeat myself." Y/N slid the blade free, causing a noise he would not forget. The man sagged against his bonds, panting as he watched the blood surged and dribbled out of the wound.
But then he felt the prick against his other leg, wide eyes turning to watch as the knife was held above his skin, Y/N's hand flat against the top, ready to push in. "Where the fuck is it?" her tone was eerie as the voice changer in her mask produced an emotionless robotic effect on it.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The thick german accent seethed through his voice as he grunted in pain.
There was only boredom in Y/N's eyes as she gazes straight into his. A stab of the knife went through his thigh without a warning, until the tip of it almost met the flat surface of the chair beneath it.
The whole room echoed with the sound of the whimpering and cries of his struggle, "Please, I swear to God I don't know what you're talking about." He pleaded as fast as he can, when he felt the shortage of breaths in his lungs due to dealing with the excruciating pain.
"Playing dumb isn't going to help you, mutt." She twisted the knife, pulled out and stabbed it again causing him to fall into an almost delirious state, "Please, please please, I swear I don't know anything about the serum." He blurted out of misery.
There it was.
The thing she wanted to hear.
Y/N's eyebrow quirked in interest, "I never mentioned the serum in our conversation, no?"
He fucked up.
He knew that he fucked up.
But, does it matter when his body was searing in pain?
By the end of the intense interrogation, Y/N finally got the intel she needed to find and destroy whatever was left behind by Wilfred Nagel, who was recruited by the CIA to recreate the super soldier serum.
Those greedy fuckers just cannot stay away from things that shouldn't be meddled with. Even Y/N could see the potential threats of a successful recreation the super soldier serum; they were practically asking for Hydra to revive to its glory days.
And she would not allow that to happen.
She needed to destroy it before its finished.
A loud wail left the man's lips, almost sounded a little strained as he had been screaming in pain for hours. Y/N mercilessly grabbed him by his sweaty chin as she pried his mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming, the man begged, "Oh lord, please please help me please."
Leaning closer she coldly spoke, "The gods doesn't care about you. Trust me I've been there." With a swift strike, she forced her knife down his throat, and a splash of red tainted her mask, nearly got into her eyes but she managed to blink before it does.
She stood still as she watched him gurgle on his own blood as death collected his soul. Wiping the blood away from her eyelid, she walked out of the abandoned building with a mission to finish; all the while blissfully oblivious to the war that the avengers were fighting to their death on the other side of the world.
Madripoor, 2024 – The most prized asset
The returned of her parents were as sudden as the lost. Though she was glad that they were back, however she had to live a double life now that they kept asking about her job and personal life as they wanted to catch up for the lost of time in 5 years.
Y/N felt bad for lying to her parents but it was for their own good. Now, that she had sent them to a honeymoon to travel all over Europe, she felt better in pursuing her mission without concerns.
Besides the joyful return there was also the awful ones.
Now, that Wilfred Nagel was back from the blip. The serum was perfected to its finest version. And was stolen by bunch of kids protesting for equal rights.
What a fucking mess that was.
But, she would deal with that later. The main focus right now was to find the man itself. There would be no more serums if the source is eradicated.
That was her priority.
With her face hidden behind her signature mask, Y/N walked through the messy crowd as she searches for Shelby's men. This should be a short meeting, since Shelby and her had history together; or more to a favour that she owns to Y/N.
However, when she tried to tune in into the hushed conversations in the crowd, she noticed that the murmurs seemed to be divided into two hot topics; one about the sudden appreance of the Deathstalker, which was herself, and second was surprisingly about the return of another notorious assassin.
Then when the conversations died down, a fight suddenly broke out. Y/N hold on the handle of her blades from the side of her thighs, as she stiffed into a defensive mode.
While on the other hand, the crowd seemed to be more interested in recording the fight, than avoiding it.
She seemlessly weaved her way through the people, only to see that the action ended with a man choked onto the table of bar. The attacker's face turned away from her where she could only see his figure from the back.
Then, a gleam of gold caught her attention, Y/N squinted her eyes as she analyzed the man's left arm.
It was not the pattern of the sleeve from his suit.
It was his arm.
A black bionic arm.
Which reminded of her of someone she came across in her 6th life; but his was a tin foil silver with a red star on his upper arm. At the time, he was Hydra's most prized asset, they called him the Winter Soldier.
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: yes, I am well aware that left y'all hanging but I still hope you enjoy this one. Tell me what you think so far, I'm curious if y'all cry at the part where she received the letter or maybe you can comment of something else, I'd still love to hear them ♡
#winterarmyyfics#promise me au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#40s!bucky#1940s!bucky#tfatws!bucky
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
bad idea, right?
— Sam Kerr x reader
based off Olivia Rodrigo's new song | masterlist
warnings: steamy, allusions to sexy times. it's a small fic, sorry! i feel it isn't very good quality lol
Haven't heard from you in a couple of months, but I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up
Your drink was spilling all over your hand as you stumbled through the crowds, pulling your friend's hands as they yelled over the music. There was no doubt about your intentions tonight. Sam was fresh on your mind and your friends were sick of you crawling back to her, with Robin going as far to call you a "slutty, lovesick puppy".
She wasn't wrong. Time after time you would wake up in her bed after agreeing to call it off, memories of the night before (and earlier that morning, let's be real) fresh in your head. They made you promise that tonight you'd quote "fuck it out" with someone else, as long as you didn't call her. You were about 80% sure it was doable, after all you hadn't spoken with her in a few days anyway.
The drink sloshes in your cup as you throw your hands up. Strangers are dancing up on you and you throw the cute girl across from you a wink. She's moving closer towards you as the song changes, her hands beginning to snake around your neck. As soon as you close your eyes and relax into it, they're gone.
"Damn, didn't know you were taken for the night."
You shoot her a confused look, and she motions over your shoulder at a figure standing by the door.
Fuck.
Sam's there. Right there - in the club where you're supposed to be finding a fling. She's leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest. She's got an almost amused, cocky look on her face as she stares you down. Her eyebrows raise as she nods, is she giving you her "blessing" to continue? Screw her.
"Don't worry about that." You whisper in the girl's ear, leaning down to bury your face in her neck. In what feels like an instant, you're being pulled away. There's no time to even utter an apology as you find yourself on the other end of the floor.
The lights are casting a purple glow over her face as she looks down at you. The tune of Troye Sivan's "Rush" is loud in your ears as you meet her gaze, a defiant look in you're eye.
"You really thought you'd get away with that?"
"Oh please, aren't we broken up Sam? Pretty sure it was you who initiated it."
"I wasn't the one at my door last week, begging for it." She fires back.
All resolve you had fizzled away as you looked quickly for your friends. Robin was making out with a guy at the bar and Georgie was nowhere to be seen. Perfect.
Her hands are on your hips in an instant, pulling your lower half into her. Your swaying your hips, hands moving to her neck as her chest presses against her back. She's murmuring in your ear and you pray the music is too loud for anyone to overhear. She kisses your neck, her hands running up and down your body as she sways with you. Tangling your hands in her hair, you bring her in for a kiss.
She grabs your thigh, lifting the leg to wrap around her waist as she deepens the kiss. You can't find it in you to care that you're going back to her once again, falling back into that same pattern you came hear to break.
And I told my friends I was asleep, but I never said where or in whose sheets
"Should we get out of here, baby?"
You only nod, letting her know you're off to let your friends know . You tap Robin on the shoulder.
"Fuck, I completely forgot about my lecture tomorrow. I've gotta be up early, I'll let you know when I'm home." A complete lie.
You're glad Sam is out of her line of sight otherwise you'd be in for it. She gives you a hug and you pray to God she doesn't notice your now smudged lipstick. As soon as you're in the taxi, Sam's hand is on your thigh and giving it a squeeze as she winks at you.
Maybe next time, you think. One more time with Sam can't hurt, right?
#sam kerr x reader#sam kerr fanfic#sam kerr fanfiction#fanfiction#woso x reader#matildas x reader#sam kerr imagines#sam kerr imagine#woso oneshot#woso fanfics#woso fanfiction#woso one shot#matildas fanfiction#matildas imagine
275 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fighting Against Gravity
Description: You've hated Steve Harrington since your sophomore year, and the feeling is very much mutual. Unfortunately, with you both working at Family Video, it was only a matter of time before you got stuck on a shift together. You'll just keep your distance, hopefully.
BEHOLD!! one of the longest fics i've ever written lol (a whopping 3.6K words bahaha) and it's just me fantasizing about hate sex with Steve Harrington,,, this is addressing a prompt I got forever ago!! so anon, even though i've lost your ask, i hope you enjoy the porn :)
Steve Harrington made your life hell in high school.
Okay, maybe not him specifically, but Tommy and Carol were fucking awful to you. Tommy making obscene comments in the hallway, Carol spilling her lunch down your shirt on purpose. Carol stealing your clothes in the locker room while Tommy stuck things to your locker.
It got to the point that you would fake sickness, change your classes, park your car across the street just to avoid them. And Steve would just… stand there. He would just stand there and stare, his eyes all wide and shocked, while his friends tormented you. Doing nothing.
So, since sophomore year, you have hated Steve Harrington. Even now, after high school, the sight of him still makes your heart pound angrily, makes your fists clench and your teeth grind together. Robin insists that he’s changed, that he’s “not the same as he was in high school, come on, you’ve got to give him a chance.” Bullshit.
And what makes it worse is that Steve doesn’t even try. Ever since you got your job at Family Video, mostly to work with Robin every day, Steve Harrington has been a fucking dick. Rolling his eyes when you tell a joke, scoffing at any of your tiny complaints about school, about your job, about the various dates you’ve tried to go on that always go up in flames. He just flips his hair, crosses his arms and makes you feel like a complete fucking idiot.
“I have no idea what’s going on with him,” Robin says, shoving a few more videos into the shelves. “I swear he’s not usually like this. It’s like, only when you have a shift.”
“It’s fine,” you mumble, though the tenseness in your shoulders tells Robin that it is absolutely not fine. “If Harrington wants to stay a dick, he can. Doesn’t bother me either way, y’know? He’s been like this for years.”
A loud clatter behind you causes you to shoot up, turning your head to see the man in question with a pile of videos clutched in his hands, his knuckles white and eyebrows furrowed. You both lock eyes, and it feels like his gaze is burning into your fucking soul. It’s probably only a moment, but it feels like you spend years just staring at each other, before Steve huffs and turns away, rushing behind the counter.
Robin watches the whole exchange from the floor. “Oh,” she whispers quietly to herself. Your gaze snaps back down to her.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” she says, turning back to the videos, but you can tell that it is absolutely not nothing.
“What is it Robin?”
“Nothing! Look, it’s fine, okay?” she says, and you choose to just shut up about it, murmuring a quiet “okay, okay,” while you turn back to your stack of videos.
You allow yourself to get lost in the repetitive motion of filing the films away, lost to the world while you bury yourself in your thoughts. Still stuck on your strange interaction earlier, your thoughts somehow float to Steve fucking Harrington of all people. Images flutter through your mind of his pissed off little scowl, his dark eyes burning into yours, frustrated and angry. The little crease between his eyebrows, the clench of his fists. What is his fucking problem? You shove a video a little too aggressively into its slot. You want to punch him in the nose, take him down to his knees while he prays for your forgiveness. Begging for you. His dark, angry eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, those big hands clutching into your hips-
You stumble over your own feet, nearly face planting into the carpet. Where the fuck had that come from? Fantasizing about Steve Harrington? Jesus Christ, you need to get laid if you’re actually thinking about fucking Steve of all people. Even though he is somewhat attractive, maybe to a person who doesn’t know how much of a dick he is. Maybe someone could somewhat see how pullable and soft his hair is, how fucking tight his jeans are all the time, how big his hands are. How pretty he would look with those hands around your neck, slender hips between yours-
You can feel how red your cheeks are, trying to restock videos in the most casual way possible, trying to keep your mind blissfully blank. Anything but Harrington. Literally, anything.
Fortunately for your quickly spiraling mental state, Robin feels the need to break you out of your reverie.
“Shit, um, I forgot to tell you, I need to leave early today.” Robin says, sheepish, trying not to make eye contact while the floor drops out from under your feet. You have to hold yourself back from knocking the copy of Grease from her grip. You squat down to meet her eyes.
“You’re leaving me here? With him?” you hiss, glancing over to the register where Steve is helping out a customer; a pretty girl that Steve is leaning just a little too close to to be casual. Anger swims in your gut. The unprofessionalism in this guy.
Robin finally meets your eyes, her cheeks red. “I have a date? Uh, with Vickie.” she says, and when her cheeks are all red like that, and she seems just a little ashamed, you really can’t find it in yourself to scold her. “I’m sorry,” she says, and you force yourself to believe in her apology.
“Fine, it’s fine.” you mutter, crossing your arms. “Leaving me to deal with Harrington myself, I get it.”
“Look, maybe you guys could, I don’t know, talk? While I’m gone?” Robin says, standing. “I swear to God, walking in here is like walking into a war zone.”
“Not a chance, Buckley,” you chuckle, humorlessly, but Robin laughs back all the same. “But you have fun on your date, okay?”
“Oh, I will,” she giggles, and you finally laugh genuinely. Robin hugs you gently, whispering a quiet, “good luck,” before she runs to the back to grab her backpack, and then she’s gone. Leaving you to the wolves. Or, wolf. Steve Harrington. You resolve yourself to just avoiding him, staying silent and doing your job until you can finally leave. But, in a tiny store like Family Video, keeping your distance proves quickly to be incredibly difficult. Against your will, you end up behind the counter next to Steve, trying to clean up as fast as possible.
“Excuse me, Harrington,” you mutter, bumping yourself in front of Steve’s tall body to wipe down the shelves behind the counter.
Steve jumps back like you’ve struck him, but you try to ignore it, bending further to reach the back of the shelf. You reach behind you to pull your skirt down, suddenly horribly conscious of the shortness of it.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you hear Steve mutter, and that is it. You’re just trying to do your fucking job, and somehow he has a problem with you doing that? You straighten up and whip around to face him, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. Odd, because last you checked, Steve is taller than you. What the fuck was he looking at?
“What the fuck is your problem, Harrington?” you say, stepping toward him.
“My problem?” Steve asks, incredulous and completely fucking patronizing. “You’re asking what my problem is?”
“Yes! What is it? Because it’s like I can’t do anything right around you. Anything I do, or say, fucking think is met with, with-“
“Oh Christ,” your fists clench at Steve’s interruption. “Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been the most uptight fucking brat I’ve ever met. Not to mention-“
“Oh fuck you, Steve.”
“Not to mention the fact that you are so caught up in who I was in fucking high school, going on and on to Robin about how much of a dick I was in school, as if people in your little world can’t change. That’s how judgemental you are, you can’t fucking let go.” Steve steps toward you, his tall body feeling like he’s looming over you.
“Let go? You and your little friends made my life a living hell. I dreaded going to school every day. And you want me to let it go?”
“It wasn’t even me doing that to you. It was Carol and Tommy-“
You poke a finger into his chest. “You just stood by-“
“I’ve tried to fucking apologize to you, but you won’t let me-“
“You’ve tried? Am I really supposed to believe that?” Steve’s angry breaths are fanning over your face, smelling like gum and cigarettes. You can see little gold flecks in his brown eyes.
“I fucking have, and you know it.” You’re both too close, too fucking close.
“Do I?”
You don’t know who moves first. Probably Steve, the impulsive asshole that he is.
Maybe it was you.
But suddenly Steve’s strong hands are gripping your jaw, your hands are winding into his soft hair, pressing yourself into him. All you know is that Steve’s lips are soft, overwhelming against yours even as your teeth clack together painfully. The kiss is wretched and messy, but Steve just presses himself in further, licking up against your teeth and forcing you to open up to him. His tongue presses against yours, slick and wet and warm. He feels so big against you, and it’s so good that it takes a moment for you to realize that you’re still kissing Steve Harrington.
You force yourself to break away, your cheeks flaming. Steve stares at you with his dark eyes, looking about as shocked as you feel with his flushed cheeks.
“I- fuck, what was that? What, what the fuck? I-“ you stumble over your words, but Steve swoops down again to lick into your mouth. You moan lightly at the taste of him, grasping onto his shoulders, and it just feels too good to pull away.
“Shut up,” Steve breathes into your mouth. “For once, just,” Steve kisses you again, almost like he’s fucking starving for it. “Shut up.”
“Make me, Harrington,” you whisper.
Steve kisses you again, harsh and unforgiving, and you gasp as his hands grip your hips, so strong that you know he’s going to leave pretty marks. Like you’re his. Your nails dig into his back as his lips leave yours, instead traveling to your throat, biting harshly, while one of his hands drifts under your skirt, playing with your throbbing clit through your panties. You can feel how soaked you are, how the wetness of your pussy is making your thighs slick and your cunt clench.
“Steve, Steve, fuck,” you whisper. Steve grunts softly into your neck, his fingers sneaking under your panties to run through your sticky wet slit, running just over your entrance.
“So fucking wet, baby,” Steve mumbles. “This all for me? You like getting me mad? Does it get you hot, babe? Make this little pussy so fucking wet?” You want to reply, a snarky comment on the tip of your tongue, but one of Steve’s long fingers is dipping into you, and it takes all of your energy just to make sure your fucking knees don’t give out. “Bet that’s why you’re such a brat all the time. Fiery little thing; you just needed to get fucked?” And his finger is suddenly moving inside you, stretching your sensitive walls.
“Oh god, Steve-” you whine, but he cuts you off again by adding another finger, jamming it inside you alongside the first. The hand he had on your hip travels around your back, holding your weak body upright.
“You look so pretty like this. You’re always such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Your cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being so placid and submissive under Steve’s touch, but when his fingers tease at a sensitive spot so fucking deep inside, pressing harder than you can with his long fingers, you can’t bring yourself to care. And Steve just looks so pretty, his dark eyes blown wide and hair hanging in his face, and you hate that he’s so pretty. You hate how his fingers feel so fucking good.
You hate how desperate you are for his cock, the thick bulge in his jeans pressing against your thigh.
You grip his wrist, somehow finding the strength within yourself to pull his fingers out of you. You turn around, away from him to bend yourself over the counter, flipping the back of your skirt up in a clear invitation.
“Jesus Christ, baby, you want my dick that bad?” Steve grunts behind you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
“Like you don’t want my pussy just as bad, Harrington. Why don’t you follow your own advice, shut the fuck up, and fuck me?” You chuckle lightly at Steve's responding groan, and suddenly hear the tell-tale sound of a belt coming undone and a zipper being pulled down.
Steve’s cock is throbbing and sticky, needy for your pussy after fingering you. If Steve’s honest with himself, he’s been half hard since you walked in for your shift, just like he always is. But Steve would rather die than tell you that now. Maybe he’ll tell you after you agree to go on a date with him.
But that’s the least of his worries. Because right now, your pretty little pussy is right in front of him, covered just barely by your soaked panties, and you’re asking him to fuck you. Steve can’t decide if he’s dreaming or not. He really doesn’t want to wake up either way.
A high pitched whine escapes your throat when Steve pulls your panties to the side and you feel the thick head of his cock swipe through your sticky folds, far bigger than what you anticipated. It’s fucking intoxicating. You wiggle your hips back, desperate, and whisper out a desperate “please” as he finally notches himself against your entrance.
You don’t have to tell him twice, because Steve is suddenly sinking his cock into you. Slowly, so fucking slowly. Too fucking slow.
“Harrington, do you always fuck women like a 90 year old man? I thought you were a ladies man, I mean really, what happened to King Ste-”
Steve doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he grits his teeth and shoves his cock into your aching pussy, and clenches his eyes shut at the sound of your squeal, a choked moan escaping his throat as your hot cunt grips him so fucking tight.
Your fingers grip at the edge of the counter, as Steve forces his fat cock into you. The stretch burns, it burns, but it’s so good, fuck, it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And then he moves, dragging himself out so slow you can feel every vein dragging against your walls before shoving back in again. Your bent hips are pressed against the counter while Steve has his big hands gripping your waist.
“Jesus, baby, so fucking tight for me,” he grunts, and he sounds wrecked. “Taking me in like a good little slut.”
“Steve, Steve, oh god, Steve.” You chant his name like a prayer, your voice weak and airy, legs trembling. Your pussy clenches at his words, and you lower your forehead against the cool material of the counter as you hear Steve chuckle breathlessly, obviously feeling your reaction.
“You like that, baby? Like being called a slut? Fuck, you do. You love being my fucking slut don’t you?” Steve snaps his hips forward harshly through his words, watching your ass shake under the force. Little whines are punched out of your throat with every thrust, and you just sound so pretty that Steve can’t help but bring a hand up to run it comfortingly down your spine. “Little brat, coming in here in these tiny little skirts, riling me up with your little comments. You’ve been so bad, baby, so bad to me. Just needed to be put in your place, right?”
Little tears are starting to leak from your eyes as Steve’s unforgiving thrusts into your squelching pussy, his fat cock rubbing deep into you. You jerk hard as Steve slaps a hand over your ass, the sound echoing throughout the empty store.
“I asked you a fucking question sweetheart,” Steve grunts.
You force words to come out of your throat. “Yes, yes, oh god, Steve, I needed to be put in my place, fuck. Needed, needed you to fuck me Steve, oh-” You glance forward through bleary eyes and see the parking lot just outside the window, still blissfully empty, but the shock of what you’re doing rings through you. Anyone could see you right now. Anyone could walk through those doors and see Steve Harrington fucking you like a bitch.
Your pussy throbs almost painfully, your stomach clenching, and you know, oh God, you know-
“Steve, Steve, I’m gonna, oh God, I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whine.
But Steve does stop, and you cry out in despair as he slips out of you, his strong hands flipping you around so that you can see his flushed and sweaty face. He’s so beautiful that you could nearly pass out. Maybe you will. Steve brings a hand up to wipe a tear off your face, shushing you gently.
“Sorry baby, I just, I gotta see your face when you cum. Gotta see how fucking pretty you look.” He hitches one of your thighs up onto his hip, keeping you spread open for him, and sinks his cock back into you through his words. Your eyes roll back again at the feeling, and you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pounding up into you. He forces you to take his cock all over again, and the knot in your stomach is back with a fucking vengeance.
With no counter to grip onto, your arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, bringing him down just enough to kiss him again. He groans into your mouth, and you whine back, the both of you tangled together like you’re made for each other. You kind of hope you are.
You break your lips from his, looking up into his dark eyes as you gasp, “Gonna cum, Steve. Oh fuck, you’re gonna, you’re gonna make me cum.”
“Go ahead and cum, baby,” Steve whispers, so intimate you nearly cry harder. “Show me how pretty you look when you cum on my cock.”
Your vision whites out for a moment, your mouth gaping open in a silent scream as you clench and gush around Steve’s fat cock, still pounding relentlessly into you.
“Jesus fuck, sweetheart,” Steve whimpers, “so, fuck, so pretty.”
You gaze up at him with teary eyes, your thighs still trembling, and run a hand through his hair. “Go ahead and cum inside me, Steve. I want, shit, I want you to own me.”
You watch his eyes go wide, before his mouth drops open and his hips stutter, his thick cock throbbing inside you while he floods your sticky cunt with his cum. You hear him whispering softly, barely able to make out his little mutters of “mine, all mine,” while he comes down from his orgasm.
It takes a while for you both to stop shaking, but when you finally breathe normally again, you keep Steve pressed close. He gazes at you, eyes soft as he whispers, “For what it’s worth, I’m- I’m sorry. I know it’s too late, but I am.”
You smile at him softly. You know what he’s like, maybe you always have. Steve Harrington, as horrible as he was in high school, has changed. He’s changed into a wonderful, kind, caring man. So far from the ‘King Steve’ you once knew. You trace a gentle hand down his jaw.
“I know, Steve,” you whisper.
“But do you? I mean, I was awful to you, and I understand if maybe this was just, like, a heat of the moment thing, or whatever. I mean, I can quit if this will make you uncomfortable, knowing that I-”
“Steve,” you answer, cutting him out of his panicked rambling. “I forgive you, okay? I think… I think I forgave you a while ago. Maybe I just hadn’t realized it yet. But I do. I forgive you, Steve.”
“But-”
“I forgive you, Steve Harrington. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For how I’ve treated you. And… And I know that we may have done this a little backwards, but I love to go on a date with you, Steve. If you wanted, y’know.”
Steve stares at you, shocked, and you open your mouth again to take it back, maybe tell him that you both can be friends, even if it’s not what you want.
But then Steve is swooping down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, chaste and warm, and it feels like your heart is going to beat out of its chest.
“I wanna take you out so bad, sweetheart. God, I’ll treat you so good, just watch baby, I’ll-”
You giggle at him softly, pecking him on the lips again, just to feel him. And to shut him up, just maybe. It’s like you can stay in this moment forever, kissing a blushing Steve Harrington.
The sound of an approaching car roars from outside, and it’s suddenly horribly apparent that Steve’s soft cock is still inside you, your leg still hitched up onto his hip. You push him away just as he backs up, rushing to stuff his sticky cock back into his pants. He kicks his discarded belt under the counter while you pull your panties up, trying not to think too hard about the strange feeling of Steve’s cum leaking out of your gaping pussy.
The bell dings as someone walks in, and you both whip around, hoping that you look a bit more put together than you feel. You quickly try to pretend to wipe down the counters, just like earlier, but as Steve walks around you to greet the customer, he squeezes the fat of your ass, making you gasp.
You look up to meet his pretty eyes, his puffy, used lips smirking at you knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows. You giggle at him softly. Okay, maybe Steve Harrington is a dick. But maybe, just maybe, that’s not so bad.
#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fic#steve harrington#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you do smth like they meet again after years??? She's a professor and he too so she saw him at the first day in the great hall and after that they run into each other in the teachers' room. They were friends when they went to school and they were always attractedby each other.
Thank you and btw I love your writing:)
Lost and Found
Masterlist
AO3
Summary - You and Remus Lupin had a crush on each other ever since you were students at Hogwarts but never had the courage to even speak. You spend the next 20 years living your separate lives, you as an Auror, and he, just surviving. Unable to live under the stress of your profession anymore, you retire and start teaching at Hogwarts, still hoping to fill the void Remus had left behind. In September 1993, everything changes. (3,190 words)
Warnings - Fluff, cheesy, angst, a bit of hurt/comfort, a bit of self-hatred, kissing, mention of wizarding war and lost of loved ones, my grammar (english is not my first language), not proof read.
Notes - I am almost ashamed of posting this considering I received this request over a month ago. I am so sorry anon, I have been traveling all of August. Thank you so much for your request and kind comment. I hope you like this one! (sorry if it's too cheesy I got carried away lol)
June 1978
One last glance, that's all you wanted. You pulled your hair back, looking discreetly across the Great Hall. As always, Remus was there, just a few seats away. He looked sad, just as sad as you, but it couldn't be for the same reason. The warm, golden rays of the sun reached through the windows and danced across his face, as if the sky itself was trying to comfort him. It graced his scars, making them glow a beautiful shade of gold. You were doomed. Absolutely doomed. And sad. And in love. And doomed.
You would always sit close, steal glances, exchange the occasional smile in the library. You had become experts at unsaid conversations, your hearts screaming out words that your lips never uttered. 7 years of unspoken love, of quick glances, of butterflies in your stomach, of hoping he would sit next to you in potions, of worrying when he would disappear for a few days. You knew why, it was easy enough to figure out for anyone who paid close attention. But you didn't care. You loved him for 7 years. 7 years that were about to be ripped away from you.
Remus felt your gaze and looked up. Your eyes met, and for a split second, time seemed to stop. You wanted to say something. I love you. But the lump in your throat held your words hostage. The weight of the impending silent goodbye threatened to shatter the fragile world you had created.
As breakfast came to an end, you all began your journey towards Hogwarts Express. The station was alive with chatter, laughter, and tearful goodbyes. But amidst the chaos, there were two souls whose worlds had never been more silent.
You found yourself in a compartment and gazed out the window, lost in thoughts, watching what had become your second home for 7 years slowly disappear in the distance. Every time the train jolted, you wished it would be Remus entering your compartment, as if he would be braver than you. Why didn't you go to his compartment? You were a coward that's why. Because being rejected would hurt more than saying goodbye.
Remus sat a few compartments away, his heart pounding in his chest. Despite the presence of his three best friends, he felt alone. The knowledge that this journey might be his last with you was gnawing at his soul.
The train finally pulled into King's Cross, and students disembarked, eagerly searching for their families. You made your way through the crowd, hoping, stupidly praying for one last moment with Remus. As you approached the barrier between the platform and the muggle world, you took a deep breath and looked back. And there he was, Remus, looking just as lost as you felt. Your eyes met across the platform, and everything went quiet, blurry.
You crossed the barrier and found yourself on the muggle side of the platform and looked back once more, catching a fleeting glimpse of Remus, who seemed to be vanishing amidst the crowd. You felt a visceral ache. A lump formed in your throat, stubborn and solid, just as you had been during those 7 years, refusing to admit your feelings. You hated yourself. Coward, you kept telling yourself. But you loved him. Was teenage love supposed to be this painful? Because if yes, you were done with it. Never again, you thought. You wiped away the unshed tears from your eyes, put on your most determined face on, and went to your parents waiting in the crowd. You had a career to build, and Aurors were not made of lovesick teenagers.
1981 - 1991
After graduating, the world outside Hogwarts proved to be colder and crueler than you had imagined. The First Wizarding War was a brutal, heart-wrenching time. As planned, you took the path of an Auror, but not for the same reasons you had wanted. Rather, it was in a desperate attempt to right the world's wrongs, to lose yourself, to numb yourself. It was your refuge, but it was also a painful reminder of the war's cost, a daily confrontation with terror and death. Was Remus alive? The question gnawed at you the moment you opened your eyes every morning. It consumed you. You had not seen each other in over 10 years, but the mere thought of him losing his life felt like someone was ripping you open with their bare hands, no magic. Maybe that's what drove you, in the end, to be an Auror. Stupid teenage love.
The horrors of your profession haunted you every night. You had been dishonest with yourself. Sure, you wanted to "right the world's wrongs". But really, every time you were out on a mission, you were looking for him, the boy, now man, with sandy hair, with golden scars, with the softest voice, kindest eyes, shyest smile. But he was never there. So you gave up and did everything you could to bury every memory of him as deep as possible, unreachable, and decided to try and go teach other lovesick teenagers. At least then, you would feel at home.
And home, you were. The old headmaster was still there, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. Professor McGonagall, head of your house years ago, welcomed you back with the expression of a proud mother. In her eyes, you had made it. You had been successful. An Auror retiring to teach young witches and wizards. But you didn't feel successful, you felt broken, empty. And the only other colleague who seemed to reflect that void was Severus. You had been surprised to see him as a teacher. The man had always been isolated, grim-looking, sad. He reminded you of a dementor, and maybe that's why you enjoyed sharing a cup of tea with this old classmate in the staff room, to torture yourself and forget about your lost love. Had he really been a dementor, you don't even think you would have been affected because all that was left was nothing. Longing. Hurt. Despair.
Yet, in your first term as a teacher, you had this stupid hope. Maybe. Maybe Remus would walk through the Great Hall. Of all four troublemakers, he was the prefect, after all. Of course he would be a teacher. You had been so obsessed with this idea that you started losing sleep months before the term started. You surveyed the staff table like a hawk, looking for him. You were going mad. Here you were, grown, accomplished, yet still obsessing over your teenage love, retracing your steps through the halls like you used to 20 years ago to catch only a glimpse of him. Except now you knew he wouldn't be there.
September 1993
You sat at the long staff table, your eyes idly scanning the crowd of eager young faces gathered in the Great Hall. You were numb. Not even waiting for anything anymore. Just going through the motions. Professor McGonagall had just finished calling out the names of the first-year students when the staff entrance at the side of the Hall creaked open.
You turned your head reflexively, expecting another late-arriving student or perhaps a staff member who'd lost track of time. What you did not expect was the sight that greeted you, freezing you in your seat.
A man stepped into the Great Hall, pausing for a moment to soak in the ambiance as if he too were revisiting old memories. Older and more weathered than you remembered, his sandy hair was now tinged with grey, and his face bore scars that were definitely not there during your Hogwarts years. His robes, though neat, were faded and had seen better days. But it was his eyes- those gentle blue eyes, filled with a unique blend of sorrow and kindness- that told you everything you needed to know.
Remus.
Your heart was pounding so loud in your chest that you were sure the entire Hall could hear it. The moment his eyes met yours, he too froze in place, as if the mere sight of you had rooted him to the ground. A mixture of emotions swirled in his gaze- surprise, confusion, and something softer, more intimate, that you hadn't seen in anyone's eyes for a long time.
Tears welled up in your eyes, unbidden but not unwelcome, as you shared a look so intense, it was as if no one else existed. A look that whispered of years lost, of what could have been, and- perhaps- of what still might be. Not a word was spoken, but in that moment, volumes were said, a dialogue only you could understand.
The gravity of the moment was so strong that you barely registered Remus moving again, navigating his way through the Hall to join the staff at the table. As he sat down beside you, the familiar scent of him struck you like a freight train- parchment, coffee, and a hint of pine trees. It was intoxicating, transporting you back to a simpler time, back to late-night study sessions and furtive glances. Your cheeks flushed as you realized that the empty chair next to you would be his for the entire year. There you were, a lovesick teenager again.
You found yourself struggling to maintain your composure as Dumbledore rose to his feet to introduce the new staff member.
"Before we continue, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J Lupin, who's kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he announced, his eyes twinkling as he gestured towards Remus.
The students erupted into applause as Remus stood up awkwardly, a sheepish smile on his face. You found yourself unable to clap, your hands trembling in your lap as you watched him. It was surreal to see him here, after all these years.
As soon as the ceremony ended, before the feast even began, Remus got up from his seat and made his way out of the Great Hall almost immediately, without saying a word. He looked almost...flustered? Impossible, you thought. YOU were flustered. How could he be?
For days after your wordless reunion, you and Remus moved in parallel orbits, close yet never intersecting. The tension between you was palpable; an emotional undercurrent that resonated through every stolen glance and momentary brush of your eyes. You would catch him staring at you across the Great Hall during meals, only for him to look away, flustered, when you met his gaze. He would spot you in the corridors, seemingly engrossed in conversation with Professor McGonagall, but he knew you were acutely aware of his presence.
You both longed to talk, to share the feelings that had overwhelmed you during that first eye contact, yet you were both paralyzed by a mix of fear, vulnerability, and the weight of years that had gone by. Remus, scarred by the war, lost everyone he loved most, was terribly afraid of loving again. And you, scarred by years of void, searching, numbing, were terribly afraid of being rejected.
The tension reached its peak one fateful evening when you found yourselves alone in the staff room. You had come to fetch some papers you had left behind, while Remus had sought the space for its quiet ambiance to prepare for his next lesson. As you entered, you were met by the aroma of ancient books, polished wood, and a hint of brewing tea. Remus was standing there, looking startled but then quickly regaining his composure.
"Ah, good evening," he stuttered, his voice tinged with the nervousness he felt. It was the first time you heard his voice in 20 years. It was deeper, but just as rich, just as soft, making you feel just as weak.
You felt your cheeks flush as you stepped further into the room. "Good evening," you responded, your voice a half-octave higher than you intended.
It was awkward, the air was thick with unspoken sentiments and unanswered questions. Remus cleared his throat and offered a formal, almost painfully awkward introduction.
"You might not remember me, I'm R-"
Might not remember him? Was he dumb? Clueless? Blind? No. He was just a man, you thought.
"I know," you cut him off gently, trying to act as if he had not consumed 99% of your brain capacity for the last 20 years. "I do know, Remus."
The air lightened a little at your words, as if acknowledging your shared history made it easier to breathe. Almost easier.
"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea. Would you like one?" he offered, trying to navigate the awkwardness that hung in the room.
"Yes, thank you", you agreed, grateful for a way to break the emotional deadlock.
As Remus moved to pour the boiling water into the cups, his hands were less steady than he'd have liked. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to leap out and bridge the gap that had opened up between you over the years. He handed you the cup, your fingers brushed ever so slightly. The contact, though fleeting, sent a rush of warmth surging through you both.
From that day on, you became inseparable- or as inseparable as two Hogwarts professors could be. You found excuses to bump into each other in the hallways, 'accidentally' coinciding your evening strolls by the lake or the Forbidden Forest's edge. You began to steal moments wherever you could- sitting together at meals when you could manage it, pausing in empty classrooms for brief, whispered conversations.
Yet, for all your newfound closeness, you both tiptoed around the deeper emotions and unspoken confessions that hovered in the background. You would catch yourself about to say something too revealing and would quickly pivot the conversation to safer topics. Remus, too, would often find himself on the verge of saying something he feared could ruin everything but would pull back at the last moment, as though treading on dangerous ground.
The late-night strolls became your sanctuary, where the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and your carefully guarded feelings.
"You've changed the curriculum quite a bit," you would say, your eyes sparkling as you discussed his innovative teaching methods.
"And you've managed to make Arithmancy popular. I've never seen so many students signing up for it," he would reply, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to decipher the mysteries hidden behind your eyes.
You would both laugh, the tension easing for a moment, yet neither of you would take that final, daunting step to acknowledge the flame that had been rekindled and now burned almost painfully.
It was a dance you both had perfected, a dangerous game you played. And though you circled around your feelings, it was clear to you both that this delicate balance couldn't last forever. It was as if you were students again. Desperate, lovesick, terrified teenagers.
And you couldn't take it anymore. You wouldn't. That night, the air was particularly cold, the air crisp, and the half-moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds.
"It's been weeks, Remus. Weeks since you came back into my life," you began, your voice shaky. "We keep circling around each other like we're afraid of something."
"Afraid?" Remus responded, trying to maintain his composure. "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"Isn't there?" You looked up, your eyes meeting his. "Then why haven't you touched me? Why haven't we talked about what's really going on between us? Why haven't you invited me out for a coffee?"
Remus looked away, visibly wrestling with himself. "I can't. I can't give you what you want."
The raw pain in his voice struck you, and you felt your own eyes brimming with tears. "And what do you think I want, Remus? Is it so wrong to want to be with you? Or am I not good enough for you?"
He took a deep breath, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You deserve someone better, someone who can be there for you in all the ways I can't."
That was it. The dam of emotions you'd been holding back for years finally burst. "Better? Do you have any idea how many nights I've lain awake wondering if you were even alive? Do you know how terrifying it is to love someone and not know if they're dead or alive, Remus?"
Your words struck him to his core. Of course, he knew what it felt like. He had lived it for 20 years.
Your voice had risen to almost a scream, your body shaking as you confronted him, assaulted him with your words. "All those years, I never had the courage to approach you, to tell you how I felt. We lost all that time, and now here you are, yet you've never felt so out of reach."
Remus couldn't look at you. His gaze was fixed on the ground, and he seemed to be shrinking into himself. "You don't understand. I'm not good for you."
"Why? Because you're a werewolf?" you snapped, the words tumbling out of you before you could stop them.
Remus's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock.
"I've known since Hogwarts, Remus. And I never cared. Are you blind? All I've wanted for the past 20 years was to be with you, to even just see you, to-"
Before you could say another word, Remus closed the distance between you in two quick strides, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you against a tree. Your eyes met for a split second- a second filled with anger, surprise, confusion, but above all, an overwhelming love- and his lips crashed into yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. His hand snaked up to your neck, feeling your pulse, as if he was trying to convince himself that this was real. You pressed your body against him, the heat radiating from him was intoxicating, dizzying.
But then the kiss slowed, its intensity giving way to a slow, loving gentleness, one that you associated with him so much. Remus's hands moved from your neck to cup your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had spilled onto your cheeks. Your hands found their way to his chest, gripping his robes like they were a lifeline, like he would vanish any second.
Finally, you broke the kiss, a little out of breath, but remained close, your foreheads touching. "I'm sorry," Remus whispered, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for all the years we lost, for all the pain I've caused you."
You shook your head, your eyes searching his. "We can't get back the years we've lost, but we have now, Remus. That has to count for something."
He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time since the war, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility for a future- a future filled with love, warmth, and a happiness he had never thought he'd deserve.
"Okay," he said softly, the word heavy with the weight of the promise it carried.
"Okay," you repeated.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#professor remus lupin#professor remus lupin x reader#marauders#golden trio era#hp fic#sorry it's so cheesy idk what got into me
170 notes
·
View notes
Note
I would like to request something,
More like a comedy/fun/silly request :3
So...
Have you ever thought about how would Alastor, Husk, Angel Dust and Lucifer would react to their female s/o calling for them in a visibly mad tone for their complete name from the kitchen??
Maybe them knowing that they didn't thawed the chicken they try and run away from her but she teleports in front of them and tuggs them from the ear (motherly behaviors entered the chat) while saying something like
"Oh, honey, you're not gonna escape from me, and NOW you're gonna clean the house for ONE WEEK"
(in headcanon format please 😌)
(also I rode on one of your posts that you got many HH and HB requests so if you wanna ignore this, go ahead I don't really mind, It's your decision ^^)
notes: OMG ANON THIS IS SO FUNNY! sorry this took so long btw, ive had so many requests to get through lol and this is a pretty difficult idea to actually turn into a writing piece, but that's what makes it more fun lol. and dont worry about the too many requests about HH! I just thought it was interesting that i had a lot of fans of the show lol. thanks for the request anon and I really hope you enjoy!!
WARNINGS: I left out Lucifer because I don't know too much about him and kept the reader gn because Angel Dust is gay, so I didn't want to make it a female s/o. thanks for the request <333
ALASTOR
this man isnt easily intimidated by anyone
i mean he is the radio demon frrrr
but you?
oh this man is TERRIFIED OF YOU
not when you're lovey dovey, just when you're mad
which to be fair isnt often
but you went to leave the house and pressed a huge kiss onto Alastor's cheek before leaving. You told him that you wanted him to do the dishes while you were away and he gave you a thumbs up telling you that it would get done
but then you get home
and find out that not a single plate was clean
Alastor was relaxing upstairs and you were on the verge of losing
not helpful that you had an awful day on top of it
you called him by his full and complete name from when he was alive and while he was upstairs, he felt chills down his spine
he quickly ran downstairs and realized the mistake he had made a little too late
"do you expect me to do these, Al? you've been sitting on your ass ALL DAY, I am not doing any of this!" You pointed to the huge pile of dished and Alastor felt defeated
he apologized a thousand times and ended up getting them done both clean and fast in record time
and he bought you flowers to apologize
HUSK
you were at work when you remembered you needed the chicken pulled out of the freezer to thaw
you quickly texted husk and asked him to do it and all he sent was a thumbs up emoji
you prayed that he did what he needed to do
you got home in a very chipper mood from your day at work to find no chicken on the counter
you tilted your head and checked all over the kitchen
in the pantry, on the counter, in the cabinets, in the fridge
and finally
in the freezer
you almost lost your shit right then and there
you called Husk down to the kitchen and he walked in, picking at his fingernail before noticing you there
"hey babe, welcome home."
you crossed your arms and he noticed how pissed you look
shit
the chicken
mans went to run off, but you quickly teleported in front of him and grabbed him by the ear
"oh no you dont, mister. where do you think you're going?"
"to my room?" he tried, shrugging
"not on my watch. it looks like you're not only getting me dinner out tonight, but you'll be doing the dishes for three weeks now."
husk sighed, but agreed to your terms. he hated it when you were upset
ANGEL DUST
omg mans is a brat
let me tell you
you wake up in the morning smiling
like so happy that you had the best sleep cuddled against this softie
and then you remember that you have a super important meeting that day
and then you ask angel in the NICEST voice "do you mind getting the dishes out of the way today, love? I have a meeting today."
he shoots you the DIRTIEST look and has the AUDACITY to say "no. im not up for that. Im tired"
and turns away from you
you poke him so hard in the back
"ANGEL!"
"what?!" but he turns to you and recognizes that expression
mans effed up
he apologizes immediately and then tells you that he'll do them
he doesnt end up doing them btw
~~~~~
hazbin hotel masterlist | pinned post
@tonberry-yoda
#i hope you like it!#its such a silly idea i love it#writing#fanfic#my writing#fanfiction#<3#asks#anon#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin#hazbin#hazbin x reader#husk#husk x reader#husk hazbin#angel dust#angel dust x reader
821 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deprived | Four
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23
matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc)
summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths.
warnings: swearing (don't think there's anything else but lmk)
word count: 3k
a/n: my first time writing from matts pov and I'm nervy but hope y'all like it. also i know very little abt the seasons of hockey games at schools so if that's off, just ignore it lol.
pov: matt
I don't know why I ditched school with Layla. I never really left school unless I was sick or when Chris and Nick needed a ride home. I knew that I would be fine if I skipped a couple classes, my grades were good enough for me to miss a full month and I would still pass but I tried to stay above average.
As I drove us back to school, my mind wandered to when she put her earring on my lip. It made me realise how gentle she was, the way she grabbed my chin to turn my head and pulled my lip down to delicately place the ring on my lip made my mind fuzzy. She always seemed like she was tough and rough around the edges. The way she carried herself around school as if she didn't care about anyone or anything was a deep contrast to who she was in that moment of softness. I let my mind travel away as I parked in my usual spot at school, sliding my seatbelt off before I turned the car off.
I turned to face her, seeing her pick her bag up from the ground and going to open the door before I interrupted her movements, "Hey."
She turned to face me, letting go of the door handle as she looked at me expectantly, "What?"
"Do you wanna sit with me at lunch? I know you don't really go to the cafeteria but it's better than wandering around the school alone," I offered, praying in my head that she would agree.
"I don't think your friends will want me there," she mumbled, not making eye contact with me as she looked out at the school.
"Doesn't matter what they want. I want you to sit with us," I smiled at her, hoping it would convince her further. I knew my friends would be confused but I hoped I could convince them by showing them she was just like everyone else in the school and she wasn't some monster our peers had made her out to be.
"I don't know..." she trailed off, biting her lip which I picked up was a nervous habit. She had done it so many times in the short amount of time that I had been talking to her and I tried to not make it obvious that I was staring at her lips, coughing before sitting upright.
"Come on, it will be fine," I smiled once again before I jumped out of the car. I made sure my phone was in my pocket as I hopped out of the car, grabbed my backpack from the backseat and waited for her to close her door before I locked it.
We started walking into the school as she trailed behind me. She was mindlessly following me as she looked at her phone. I swung the door open, stepping aside to let her walk in before me. She sent me a half-hearted smile as a thank you making my chest swell with warmth.
I liked seeing her smile and knowing that I'd only seen her smile when she was around me made me proud in a way. I couldn't explain why but I felt myself pull towards her every time I saw her in the hallway. It had taken me a while to figure out if it was a good idea or not to talk to her, but I'd now decided that I was going to keep talking to her until she was sick of me.
I made my way to the cafeteria, noting that the clock on the wall read that lunch had already been happening for about 5 minutes. Her walking slowed and I turned to face her, slowing my pace to match hers.
"You don't have to stay for the whole lunch. Just come say hi to everyone at least," I offered her another smile and she chewed at her lip making me glance at them again, "Please."
"No need to grovel, pretty boy. I'll go," she rolled her eyes, her hard demeanour returning now that we were on school grounds. I smiled wider at the nickname she had given me and I was glad to know it stuck. After putting my backpack in my locker, we walked towards the cafeteria again.
We walked through the doors to the large cafeteria, eyes turning to look at the both of us. I ignored them as I walked through the tables, making a B-line to where my friends sat as Layla travelled behind me.
"Hey," I nodded to my brothers, sitting down beside Nick as they glanced over my shoulder at Layla making me turn towards her. I patted the seat beside me, letting her know she could sit down. She slowly sat down next to me and I could feel how tense she was by her body language, "Nick, Chris, Nate, Allie, this is Layla."
"Hi," Layla mumbled from beside me and I hoped that my friends could pull themselves together and at least pretend to be nice until they got to know her properly.
"Hey," Allie smiled at her politely as Nick and Nate both gave her a small wave. Chris nodded at her, his face showing his distaste for her being here making me run my tongue along my teeth. Chris looked at me and I made a face to tell him to be nice.
"What the fuck is on your lip?" Nick asked and I rang my tongue over the ring that was on my lip.
"It's fake. Just trying it out," I shrugged and Nick looked at me in confusion but I brushed it off.
"You getting any food?" Nate asked me and I shook my head as I watched him snack on the small tray of food he had in front of him.
"What are you doing here?" I heard a familiar voice speak and I looked to my right to see Mia staring down at Layla with confusion.
"Mia," I deadpanned and she glanced at me with a shrug of her shoulders, her cheerleading uniform riding up slightly as she did so.
"I'm just asking. She never even comes into the cafeteria and now she's sitting where I always sit," she stated in a bitchy tone making me frown at her.
"You can manage not sitting next to me for one day, Mia," I told her and she pursed her lips, a frown covering her face as she sat herself in between Layla and Allie.
"So why are you sitting here?" Mia asked Layla, her tone still bitchy as ever making me roll my eyes.
"Matt asked me to sit with you guys," Layla answered honestly, her tone not wavering in the slightest.
"Why?" Mia retorted as she opened the protein bar I didn't even notice she had.
"Because I wanted her to," I responded to Mia, my tone sharp to try and get her to stop. She was my biggest worry when I offered Layla to sit with us but I didn't realise she'd be so dramatic about it.
"Why didn't you get any food, Matty?" Mia asked me, now leaning over the table a little and completely ignoring Layla.
"I just ate," I answered honestly and I felt Layla's shoulder brush mine as she wriggled in her seat to get further away from Mia.
"What?" Nick asked now and I turned my head to face him.
I shrugged before replying, "We got McDonald's."
"And you didn't get anything for me?" Allie gasped dramatically making me smile at her as I shook my head.
"You skipped? For McDonald's with her?" my attention was brought back to Mia's bitter tone as she made a face of slight disgust.
"No I skipped because I wanted McDonald's and I asked her to come with me," I kept my tone flat to give her the hint that I was not impressed but she didn't seem to catch it.
"Why didn't you ask me?" Mia pouted and I shrugged, playing with the rings on my fingers.
"You were already in class," I told her and she rolled her eyes before I continued, "Besides, you never skip."
"What class do you have after this?" Allie asked Layla and I was thankful she diverted the conversation politely.
"Art and gym," Layla answered honestly and Allie's smile widened.
"You're in my gym class, right? Mr Rodes?" Allie asked and Layla nodded in response, "You should group up with me in class!"
"Uh, okay," Layla answered, confusion in her tone. I figured it was because she expected Allie to be a bitch, her cheerleading uniform and perfect red hair giving everyone the impression she was like Mia. Allie was one of the nicest people in school, she was down to talk to anybody and it's one of the reasons I was excited for Layla to sit with us.
"You always pair with me," Mia mumbled to Allie as she flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and Allie shrugged in response.
"You can go with Melissa? She always wants to go with you," Allie gave her a solution before digging back into her salad. Mia seemed more irritated than before and I hoped she would save it till Layla wasn't sitting with us. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
"She's here for like two seconds and fucks everything up," Mia mumbled under her breath as she bit into her protein bar.
"If you're gonna shit talk me while I'm sitting right next to you at least say it with your chest, Mia," Layla deadpanned to Mia and she seemed taken aback as she just stared at the bleached blonde girl sitting next to me.
"You're gonna let her talk to me like that?" Mia asked as she glanced at me and I raised my eyebrows.
"He's not your father. You can stand up for yourself," Layla spoke clearly and I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to smile as Mia looked in shock. Almost no one pushed back with Mia, we all knew she would blow up and just make things worse than they needed to be. But I enjoyed seeing Layla stand up to her, it proved to me that she wasn't scared of anyone, she just didn't care to talk to them.
"This is bullshit," Mia huffed as she crossed her arms and Layla raised her eyebrows in response. I looked over at Chris who was hiding his smile behind his sandwich and Nick who coughed in order to cover his laugh.
"Right well, I'm gonna go. I'll see you in gym Allie," Layla picked up her bag and stepped over the bench as she adjusted her hoodie. I realised she left her leather jacket in my car but decided I wouldn't tell her yet so I had an excuse to see her later.
"Where are you going?" I asked as she turned back to face me. Instead of speaking, she made a motion with her hand like she was smoking an imaginary cigarette as she walked backwards slowly with her eyebrows raised. I smiled at her while shaking my head and I watched as she spun around, walking out of the doors of the cafeteria.
"What was that about?" Nick asked as I turned around to face the group who were now looking at me expectantly.
"What?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing as I ran my tongue over the ring on my lip, pursing my lips to hide my smile.
"You said you weren't gonna talk to her anymore," Chris deadpanned and I shrugged, grabbing Nick's water and taking a sip before he ripped it out of my hands.
"I changed my mind," I lied, knowing I never actually intended to stop talking to her in the first place.
"She's bad news. You shouldn't be hanging around her unless you wanna end up being a junkie," Mia mumbled and all joy from my face dropped as I turned to look at her with a glare.
"Mia, can you shut up for once?" I spat and she frowned, her mouth hanging open and Nate raised his eyebrows, his mouth in a downturned smile of surprise before he and Allie looked at each other briefly.
"You hang out with her for one day and you're already a dick. You just proved my point," Mia looked at me with a cocky smile and I rolled my eyes.
"You guys are so fucking annoying," I sighed, running a hand over my face as my mind flashed the moment she grabbed my lip to put the ring in my lip, "The only reason she was rude to you is because you were being a bitch about her sitting here and then not pairing up with Allie in gym. It's not that big of a deal."
"I mean... I've heard a lot of shit about her man," Nate piped up as he raised his eyebrows at me and I shook my head.
"Who cares? She's not this psycho everyone pretends she is," I defended her and Nate just shrugged, on the fence on whether or not he thought it was a good idea for me to be talking to her, "You guys just have to give her a chance."
"I don't have to do anything," Mia mumbled, her irritated tone making me grind my teeth together to keep my cool.
"If you wanna continue being my friend, Mia, you're gonna have to figure out why you're such a bitch to her," I huffed and Allie's eyes widened and before I could say anything further, the bell for our next class rang through my ears. I got up from the table without another word and made my way to my locker, playing with the ring on my lip that was quickly becoming a habit.
+++
My last two classes were spent trying to focus but instead, my brain wandered to Layla, hoping that Mia didn't scare her away from me. I leaned against the driver's side of my car, Nick and Chris talking about something as they walked over to me.
"Why aren't you in the car?" Chris asked, noting the fact that I usually waited for them in the driver's seat.
"Layla left her jacket. Gotta give it back to her," I told him honestly and he rolled his eyes as he jumped into the passenger seat. I was sure he was sick of me talking about her, I'd been building up the courage to talk to her for weeks and I constantly talked Chris's ear off about it. He always told me it was a bad idea and I, of course, never listened.
Nick slid in the back seat, shutting the door behind him and I felt the window behind me roll down. I turned around to see Chris holding her leather jacket out to me through the window and I gave him a small smile with a nod. He raised his eyebrows briefly as I took the jacket from him and he started rolling the window up.
"Just don't take forever. We gotta get our shit for training," Chris called out before the window was full rolled up. I turned back around as I hung the jacket over my left arm, pulling my phone out of my pocket to quickly check the time.
"I believe you have something of mine," Layla's voice rang through my ears and my head snapped up to see her standing in front of me, an amused look on her face. I stared at her for a moment, noticing that she was wearing her shorts from gym still and I could see a few more of her tattoos on her thighs before she spoke again, "You gonna give it to me or am I fighting you for it?"
"Oh right. My bad," I shook my head as I slipped my phone back into my pocket and handed her the jacket. I slid the ring off of my lip, wiping it with the hem of my shirt and I couldn't help but notice her eyes glance at the tattoos along my waist.
"Gonna miss that super cool lip ring," she said sarcastically as I chuckled, handing her the ring as her fingers brushed against mine. Her skin felt so much more soft than mine, it raised goosebumps along my arms.
"Give me another month and you won't have to miss it anymore," I smirked at her and I noticed her eyes lit up slightly as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"You're gonna get it?" she asked, her voice full of hope as she slid her bag off of her shoulder and slipped her jacket on before grabbing her bag again.
I shrugged, leaning back against the car again, "Probably. Under one condition."
"What?" she asked sceptically, her eyes squinting at me and I smiled.
"Come to my last three games this season," I stated and she tilted her head as she looked out into the parking lot in thought.
"I won't have a way to get there," she retorted and with a raise of my eyebrows, I pointed to the car behind me before pointing to myself, "I don't know what to wear to your games."
With a shrug, I said, "Just wear whatever you're comfortable in."
"What day are your games on?" she asked sceptically before she bit her lip and I tore my eyes away from her mouth and back up to her eyes.
"Fridays at five," I told her and she sighed, shaking her head.
"I don't know..." she trailed off and I bit my lip to hide my smile.
I sighed dramatically as I pushed off of the car, "Guess I won't be getting my lip pierced any time soon."
"Oh for fucks sake. Fine," she huffed and I smiled at her, crossing my arms over my chest.
"I'll have to pick you up around four because we need to be there early to warm up but you can wait in the car if you don't wanna come inside," I explained and she nodded, goosebumps covering the skin on her legs from the cold air, "You need a ride home?"
"We don't have time for that. Hurry the fuck up!" Chris called from inside the car and I held up a middle finger behind me to flip him off.
"Nah, I'll be good," she gave me a half smile and I nodded as she started to walk backwards, "I'll see you when I'm looking at you."
With that she spun around and started walking out of the car park, leaving me with a triumphant smile on my face. I hopped in the car to see Nick and Chris staring at me with a judgemental look on their face.
"What?" I asked with a smile but they both stayed silent as I started the car, driving back to our house to grab mine and Chris's gear for training.
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo
65 notes
·
View notes
Note
August is such a sweetheart lol, but god imagine city reader who comes out to the country to relax and enjoy all the sights it has to behold. she’s luckily able to work from home and enjoy the bountiful sights and home grown food. August takes immediate notice that you’re different than everyone else. from your accent, to the way you dress. the town talks about you being a godless woman, which is sorta true since you never really show up to practice their faith, but August doesn’t mind, maybe if he’s lucky he can get you to go to a few services with him and his family. funnily enough, your house is near his, which prompts him to be “neighbourly” and invite himself over with some cold drinks. the house you moved in was relatively nice for the area but desperately needed renovations. when he first found you, you were painting the outside of your house. you had your hair up, a t-shirt, and short shorts on which made the southern man thickly swallow and the exposed skin made August’s trousers tighten. August prayed to the lord that you wouldn’t turn around and notice his predicament. but unfortunately for him, whatever God that was out there apparently revelled in his torment. as you turned around, he quickly covered himself with package of the drinks and waved your way.
(I have august brain rot and i must spread it, but unfortunately don’t know how to continue this lol, feel free to use it if you like)
Oh that sweet smile you give him doesn't help his shame. He clutches the drinks for dear life as you come closer and take one from his hand, asking of he would love to sit and chat.
He wants to wipe sweat from his brow at that saving grace, a chance to cross his legs and act like the bulge was just some weird fabric fold in his jeans.
The entire time you and him chat, he's thinking about ways to kiss you. Ways to hold you, hold your hand, kiss your knuckles, sweet talk you. When you laugh at his story, he pictures himself with you on long nights, holding you tight while you both share your thoughts and past experiences.
He suddenly pictures his lips kissing lower on you, maybe having a nibble at your shoulder while you moan and grab his hair-
Oh no. No no no. He can't get this mess to go down, he needs a way to leave! You're such a sweet little thing you don't need something so raunchy to be revealed!
He'll find a way to excuse himself, but his problem doesn't stop when he gets home. It doesn't stop when he takes a cold shower. It doesn't stop when he thinks of church and tries to pray. It only stops after he's made three messes in his hand and he's breathless and filled with a whirlwind of emotions.
-Mommabean
#August my oc#my ocs#yandere cowboy#oh no#yandere scenarios#yandere smut#yandere lemons#yandere imagines#mommabean#yandere male
826 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay hear me out. What if the darling is like the goddess of fate, luck and constalations and she is close to other gods but most especially other celestial gods (yes, even apollo) so what if she decided that when buddha announced that he would fight for humanity, she got up, people thought that she is angry that one of her close friends decieded to abandon her but instead walk until she reach the human side, shocking everybody.
What are the characters reaction that she just basically on the human's side (lmao I bet during the voting stage both her and buddha didn't attend the voting due to the fact that he is a former human and she is busy since she is the goddess of many things. They would for sure vote no lol)
-You were known by many titles, Goddess of Luck, Fate, Constellations, Celestial Figures, Sun, Moon, Stars, and many more, making you not only a very busy goddess, but a very powerful one as well, but most knew you simply as Y/N.
-Since you oversaw so many different things, it made it a little hard for personal time for you, so you couldn’t go to parties like others could or attend the ‘mandatory’ meetings of the gods.
-You had friends, mainly other gods and goddesses who oversaw the things you also oversaw, like Apollo, Artemis, and the Seven Lucky Gods, as you were gentle and sweet to all you met, even crass beings like Ebisu or flirty beings like Apollo, something they all respected you for.
-Many knew not to cross you- as you wouldn’t hesitate to put anyone in their place, even Zeus, and you would do so with a bright smile on your face, which was honestly more intimidating than if you were just glaring at and scolding them.
-When you heard about Ragnarok, from Apollo of all people as he was bragging about how easily he was going to win his fight, you were absolutely furious.
-You hadn’t attended that meeting, due to your busy schedule, but had you been there, you would have fought for humanity, as you loved humans- they were hard working and never seemed to stop learning and growing.
-Seeing you in attendance made many of the gods worry, mostly in fear, as you weren’t hiding your anger or displeasure at this, as you had been telling Zeus and the other gods that, as gods, you all should have done more to manage and guide humanity, because it wouldn’t have gotten to this point, and now they were just trying to take the easy way out of wiping humanity out rather than dealing with the problem they created, refusing to acknowledge or manage them.
-When Buddha announced his desire to fight for humanity, you smiled, standing and many gods were quick to dive out of your way, thinking you were going to deliver divine punishment to this traitor.
-Buddha grinned up at you as you walked down to the edge of the arena before hopping to the ledge and walked along it to the side of humanity, where many were quick to make room for you, seeing such a beautiful goddess coming.
-Buddha roared with laughter as you took a seat alongside the humans, a smile on your lips as many of the gods shouted their outrage at you now.
-Your eyes lifted to meet many of their own, making their complaints die easily before you looked up at Zeus, who flinched, panicking lightly as you spoke, your voice carrying around the arena, “I’ve been telling you all for years to be the gods you claim to be and manage and guide humanity- but obviously you’ve ignored that and now you want to take the easy way out. I fully support your decision, Buddha.”
-He sent you a wink, flirting up at you, “Thanks for the pep-talk gorgeous.” Buddha grinned more as many of the other gods began to scream at him, furious that he was flirting with you, while you had just smiled, thinking it was amusing.
-While you couldn’t interfere directly with humanity, you silently prayed that humanity would win, earning their salvation and earning the respect of the gods, who, hopefully, would finally listen to you and do what they needed to do as gods.
141 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Comes Quietly Ch 3
Future Alex Blake x reader
warnings: language, some alcohol, thats about it. Eta: don’t come for me if the statements about DC aren’t accurate, i did my best to research, i’m just relaying what google said lol
Returning to DC was exactly like slipping back into the same old routine. Alex immediately tossed laundry in, then tackled the fridge, letting out a sigh as she tossed out far too much fresh produce. After transferring the laundry over to the dryer, she headed out to get groceries, it looked like they’d actually get to stick around homebase for a while so she would at least have time to prep stuff to toss in the freezer. She enjoyed her little reset nights as she called them, leaving a window open while she cooked to let the fresh air in, piling away Tupperware containers into the fridge and freezer before putting fresh sheets on the bed. By the time she was settling into the couch with a glass of wine and a book she felt accomplished, leaving her in a positive mindset for returning to the office the next morning.
Everyone was more than a little thankful for the fact that it was a paperwork day, finally having the chance to catch up on things that had started piling up. Emily ended up spending most of her day holed away in her office, sorting through resumes, reading recommendations and conducting phone interviews that she knew were basically pointless, but she had to at least look at all the contenders. She was so focussed on speeding through all of it that she didn’t catch the time, realizing she was about to be very late for a budget meeting, scooping up the appropriate files and her phone her office door finally opened. She was unsurprised to find everyone, Garcia included in the bullpen, and while it was still a professional level of quiet, it was very clearly a casual day.
“Hey Reid!” She called out as she made her way across the room and the man looked up, “I need you to clear those books out of that spare desk you’ve been using as a library by the end of the day.”
“But…where will I?” He started and she chuckled.
“There’s an empty shelf in JJ’s old office.”
“Does this mean we’re finally getting a new agent?” Garcia asked with an excited grin.
Alex had already put it together, her eyes glancing toward her phone and she couldn’t help but reach out to tap the screen, frowning when there was no notification from you. Emily caught the movement, especially when Alex looked up to her with a curious expression and she let out a small laugh.
“I just sent the email and she’s out on a case right now. Besides, I’m not even sure if she’s actually going to take the job.”
Without another word she slipped through the door, effectively leaving the team to excitedly gossip over the new team member. Emily’s wording, and direction directly to Alex had them all assuming the same thing, this mystery girl from Boston who happened to be in New York last week was going to be their newest profiler.
*
A few hours later, and a few hours up the coast; you were letting out a huff of a tired sigh, tucking into a stool at the kitchen island. Your laptop was open in front of you, phone on the island beside a notebook where you’d been scribbling out multiple ‘to-do’ lists to organize everything you had to get done and it seemed like the list was just getting longer and longer as the day went on. You’d just unwrapped your take out dinner when your phone began to buzz on the counter top. You let out a small whine, dropping your food back to the counter, praying it wasn’t work but Alex’s name flashed across your screen and a smile broke out on your lips.
“Hey.” You answered, popping the phone onto speaker mode.
“I believe congratulations are in order.” Her voice came through the phone and you could practically see her grin, letting out a small laugh.
“I guess they would be.”
“Drinks on me when you get out here?”
“Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.” Standing from the stool you crossed the kitchen to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine. When you opened it the cork pop echoed through the room,
“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Alex asked and you laughed, pouring the wine into a fresh glass.
“No.” You settled back in your spot, “you just mentioned drinks and it made me realize I think I deserve a celebratory one.”
“Well cheers to you then.” Despite not being able to see it, Alex still raised her own glass before taking a sip, listening to you do the same.
“Mmmm. God, yeah, needed that.”
“Long case?”
“Nah. We wrapped this morning; my paperwork was done before lunch. Once I got Emily’s email I put in the transfer papers with the brass and took the rest of the day off.”
“Big celebration plans?” She asked with a tease and you laughed again.
“More like I have an entire apartment to clean out and pack up in god knows how short of time. I’ve already made three trips to donation and one to the dump, got as much as I can listed to sell.”
“Do you have to worry about breaking a lease?”
“No. Thankfully I own, so I can leave all that to my realtor and not have to worry.”
“That’s good!”
“Yeah.” You smiled, “hey… the weather’s not that different down there, right? Or am I gonna need a completely new wardrobe?”
“It’s relatively the same.” She laughed back, “but make sure you have at least a couple of things for extreme weather, you never know where a case will take us.”
“Right, right.” You muttered, picking up your pen to scribble down a couple of things on the notepad, “Prentiss said the usual business casual…”
“Yeah, no one’s really particular about it. As long as you look put together she’s not nitpicky about things.”
“Go bag’s like, a small duffle, what’d you use for daily?”
“Same over the shoulder I use when I teach. But if you’re a pockets and hands girl I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She teased and you laughed, playfully rolling your eyes before you paused to finally take a bite of dinner.
“Mm. Sorry.” You mumbled over the bite of food as you chewed and it was her turn to chuckle.
“So I did catch you at an awkward time.”
“It’s fine.” You waved her off, wiping at your mouth with a napkin, “like hell I was cooking today, it’s just take out.”
“What’ve you got? It’s chicken stir fry over here.”
���I stopped at Little Whale for a lobster roll, figured I should get as ‘em while I can.”
“Oh James was talking about that place, said it’s one of the best in town.”
“And it shall be missed.” You sighed before taking another bite, “okay…. Top places in Washington, romanticize me.”
Alex let out a laugh, the smile reaching her eyes as she sipped at her wine, thinking about the best places she’d been over the years living there.
“You know, I’ve become pretty fond of Founding Farmers, it’s all house made from scratch, absolutely delicious, including cocktails. But if you’re looking for something like Little Whale, a place like Plume, Monocle might be better compared.”
“Eh,” you shrugged, “I’m not really into the crazy fancy places, it’s just the freshest lobster in town.”
“Fair.” She laughed, taking another bite of her dinner.
“Best breakfast?”
“Oh Cracked Eggery, hands down.” She quickly swallowed her food, “it’s mainly sandwiches, but they’ve got these garlic parm truffle tots and they are the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.”
“Please tell me that’s on the morning commute.”
“From me? Yes.” She laughed.
“Wait…” you stalled, wine halfway to your mouth, “I think we need to backpedal a bit. You’re in Washington, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” You finally took a swig, “cause I won’t lie, I’ve only been to Quantico once and that was for my training fucking decades ago. It always confused me that everyone always says DC, but Quantico is in Virginia… like, I may be a federal agent but I somehow didn’t realize that DC wasn’t like, a full sized state.” You felt yourself cringe at the admission but Alex let out a playful laugh,
“It’s confusing, especially if you’re not from around the area or spend a lot of time here.”
“So like, should I be looking into information about DC, or should I be looking at settling in Virginia? Cause Maryland would be too far North and a bitch of a commute, right?”
“I mean, it’s all up to you when it comes down to it. Most of us are in DC, but like you said, a commute from Virginia might be easier on you. Traffic can be a bit of a bitch.”
“Okay, hold on.” You toggled on the track pad of your laptop to wake it up, “let me pull up a couple of places I’ve been looking at. How bad’s the drive from DC?”
“Nothing terrible.” She shrugged, moving from the table to scrape her plate into the garbage and put it into the dishwasher, “make sure you have an EZ pass if you plan on driving. I usually keep occupied with audio books, or just leave earlier to beat the rush. Public transportation is pretty decent, but again, crowded.”
“And inconvenient considering the hours we end up working.”
“Exactly.” She smiled softly, refilling her wine glass.
“Okay, bare with me as I sort though all this, I swear I have every possible window open on my laptop.”
“Okay.” She chuckled, picking up her glass and moving into the living room to settle onto the couch.
“Found a couple good places in Columbia Heights?”
“No.” Alex immediately shook her head, “heavy gang presence. Relatively safe during the day if you use your head but I’d be worried coming home late.”
“I knew it seemed too good to be true.” You huffed, un-favouriting the postings until you came across another one, your lips pursing. “Chevy Chase?” You raised an eyebrow before you scrolled down the page and let out a small laugh, “well, considering my salary that’s out.” You repeated the process, “okay, not as nice as the last but this one’s in Brentwood.”
“Absolutely not. Now you’re going in the wrong direction.” Alex said with a laugh and you huffed, rolling your eyes.
“You’re so much more direct than google ever would have been, bless you.”
“I told you I was more than happy to help, didn’t I?”
“Georgetown? That’s where you regularly teach, right?”
“Whenever I can.” She replied, “it’s one of the nicest areas in Washington, probably run into a lot of the younger demographic thanks to the school, it can be relatively pricey though. Their French Market on the weekends is not to miss though.”
“Noted.” You scribbled that down onto the pad of paper, clicking through the listing before double saving it with a star for later. “Okay last one I’ve got in Washington is in Petworth.”
“Ehh…” Alex grimaced, “high homeless population, which isn’t that much of an issue, but again, not very safe at night.”
“Ugh. Okay.” You let out a sigh, pausing to take the final bite of your sandwich, “I’ve got a couple of places in Alexandria to look at, I’ll check with my realtor and see if she can set me up with someone down there to get a better vantage point.” You minimized the page containing all the listings to reveal the Airbnb site and you let out another groan, “fuck, now I’m gonna have to go through all the Airbnb’s I bookmarked too…” Withholding a whine you took another sip of your drink, “why is this such a pain in the ass?”
“Better question is why are you looking at Airbnb’s? That’s gonna jack up you spending in a heartbeat, it’s not cheaper than renting!”
“Yeah but after comparing it to hotel costs in DC I think I’d rather have an actual kitchen and the mental security of knowing I’m the only person with a key if we’re away on a case, no numerous housekeeping and hotel staff in and out constantly.”
“Okay you’ve lost me now.” She admitted with a chuckle, “why hotels?”
“I’m not about to buy a place without seeing it in person first.” You laughed, “no matter how incredible a realtor is. And Emily warned that I might get less than a day in the city before we’re off on a case, it might take me a while to actually find a place I’m willing to call home.”
“While I understand that, it’s still completely ridiculous to waste your money like that.”
“It’s either that or flying back and fourth multiple times over the next couple of weeks and guess which is cheaper?” You sighed and Alex let out a huff, tugging her lip into her mouth, “so unless you’ve got another solution in that big brain of yours, Professor Blake…”
She paused for a moment, her eyes drifting across to the arm chair the James would frequent after dinner, now left empty every evening before they shifted in the direction of the kitchen where her single plate was stashed in the dishwasher, where she consistently was making a meal for one.
“Actually…. I do…” She couldn’t help but smile as the idea started to spring to life in her brain.
“Oh?” You asked, pausing in your scrolling through the Airbnb site.
“Come stay with me.”
“Are you serious?” You asked, suddenly sitting upright and she chuckled.
“Yes. I’m in DC, it’s a nice house in a good neighborhood, decent commute. I’ve got a guest room, there’s a home office and another extra room you could toss a desk in or do whatever you’d like with. James used it as an office but he took most of the furniture when he moved. It’s been sitting empty since.”
“Alex… I really don’t want to intrude….”
“You wouldn’t be.” She took a sip of her drink, “I’ve discovered I’m not too fond of an empty house. Despite the fact that James was gone a lot for work there was still a feeling of him here, now it’s just kinda lonely. I could use the company.” She laughed.
“You sure you wouldn’t get sick of me if we’re working together too? I mean that might be a lot…”
“It’ll make my commute to Quantico far less boring.” She teased and you let out a huff of a laugh, “there’s a backyard pool and hot tub…”
“Oh now you’re just tempting me.”
“You need a place to stay, and I have space just sitting here unused. I enjoy your company, it’s the least I could do.”
“Okay.” You smiled in the direction of your phone, finally closing your laptop, “but only until I find an actual place, promise I’ll be on my best behaviour and you feel free to kick me out whenever you’re sick of me.”
“I doubt that will happen.” She smirked and you rolled your eyes before your head turned to the beeping coming down the hall.
“Ah, fuck. I’ve gotta swap my laundry over.”
“Go.” She waved you off, “it’s getting late anyways. I’ll send you the address and some pictures in the morning, let you know what you’re getting into.”
“If it’s good enough for you, I’m sure it’s perfect.”
“Night y/n.”
“G’night Alex.”
With a soft smile on your cheeks you hit the hang up button on your phone before pocketing it and wandering down the hall to deal with the laundry. You let out a content sigh as you moved back into the main room, scooping up your wine and dropping onto the couch with considerably less stress tensing up your body. The move itself was already intimidating, but you weren’t about to let that stop you, you always powered through. Now, you had someone already willing and prepared to help you through things and figure out the details before the brass had even sent through your papers. Perhaps your move to Washington was not only going to go smoother than expected but was exactly what the universe had in store for you.
______________
@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik
106 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello!! Ive been slowly working my way through your ocs and can i just say!!! They are soooo tasty, your brain is very big, also linking the profiles is soo nice im terrible with remembering stuff so its a nice refresher
Anyway i was just wondering how do you think Ayaka would be with a childhood friend darling 🤔
a/n: SORRY ANON BUT YOU'VE HIT THE JACKPOT this is literally my SPECIAL INTEREST i absolutely DIE AND LOVE THE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE
ayaka yamato ★ profile
being childhood friends with ayaka means getting to know the social media super star before she became popular girl material
before, her hair was pitch black and she also had a lot of acne. like now, she wore thick rimmed glasses but they were always plain black. she also wore a lot of formal clothes, chosen by her nanny. stuff like button ups, long pleated skirts, etc
as a kid, ayaka was basically caged so, to be her childhood friend, your parents had to have been really good friends with her parents
ayaka's parents often scheduled play dates with their good friends' children as a way to gain more social power among the rich
unfortunately, that's really the only way you could've met her before she began her rebellious phase
like frfr ayaka was basically isolated as a child. i cannot stress this enough lol
her little brother was doted on by her mom and her older brother was coddled by her father (since he's the heir) so, often times, she was left to her own devices
she, of course, had nannies and tutors but none of them really truly treated her like the child she actually was
to everyone she met, she was a yamato. and that was the only thing that mattered about her
this made her very hungry for affection and she took whatever she could get
and if you gave her any sort of affection? when she's starving? she'd eat that shit up and praise the ground you walk on LOL
though caveat to that is that you'd have to be in the same boat as her LOL becos she's always been easily jealous, especially back then, and if you were more free than she was, she'd resent you too much to get attached to you
she'd definitely use you as her guinea pig when she starts experimenting with fashion and make up too lmao
when she does go thru her transformation from goody good daughter to how she really wants to live her life, she brings you with her
but she won't let you become a socialite like her. no, you're only allowed to be with her, to be close to her, to be her friend
anytime you start slipping from her grasp, she starts isolating you until the only person you feel comfortable clinging to and depending on is her
"Do you think there's more to life than this?"
You looked up from your homework to see Ayaka staring intently at you, her head resting in her arms. She was pushing around one of the fruit peels that she'd left on the desk but it was obvious from her expression that she'd been serious about her words.
You considered her words for a second before cocking your head a little to the side "What do you mean?"
"I don't know... more to studying. More to being the kid of a CEO. More to all of this." She just huffed in reply before leaning back and crossing her arms "Feels unfair that we live like this."
I don't want you to live like this. She wanted to say but the words just stayed lodged in her throat.
Unfortunately, she didn't inherit a lot from her parents but she did inherit their inability to express affection. The sweetness, the love, always felt awkward and tough on her tongue.
She wanted so desperately to tell you about her feelings, to let you in and let you know, but all she could do was peel you clementines and sit by your side, hoping and praying that you'd notice her.
Certainly, if not her, you found yourself thinking about her words. You'd never really thought about that before. You were always following your parents' rules that it felt blasphemous to consider going beyond them, to see what it was like beyond the rules and the gilded cage.
Because you were aware. You knew the life they had you live--the life Ayaka's parents had her live--was one of imprisonment, doomed to never do what you wanted to do.
But you'd lived the life for so long that imagining what life would be like any other way left you drawing a blank.
"Let's start living life our own way." Ayaka suddenly uncrossed her arms and took your hands into hers, that eager grin on her face infectious "You and me. Nobody cares about me like you do, anyway."
"And nobody cares about you like I do, right?" There was something dark to her tone right then, like there was more to her words. But she looked so mesmerizing, so sweet, that you found yourself nodding.
Ayaka only beamed even brighter "We'll decide how we want to become, not our parents."
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Comes Quietly Ch 3
Future Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, some alcohol, thats about it. Eta: don’t come for me if the statements about DC aren’t accurate, i did my best to research, i’m just relaying what google said lol.
Returning to DC was exactly like slipping back into the same old routine. Alex immediately tossed laundry in, then tackled the fridge, letting out a sigh as she tossed out far too much fresh produce. After transferring the laundry over to the dryer, she headed out to get groceries, it looked like they’d actually get to stick around homebase for a while so she would at least have time to prep stuff to toss in the freezer. She enjoyed her little reset nights as she called them, leaving a window open while she cooked to let the fresh air in, piling away Tupperware containers into the fridge and freezer before putting fresh sheets on the bed. By the time she was settling into the couch with a glass of wine and a book she felt accomplished, leaving her in a positive mindset for returning to the office the next morning.
Everyone was more than a little thankful for the fact that it was a paperwork day, finally having the chance to catch up on things that had started piling up. Emily ended up spending most of her day holed away in her office, sorting through resumes, reading recommendations and conducting phone interviews that she knew were basically pointless, but she had to at least look at all the contenders. She was so focussed on speeding through all of it that she didn’t catch the time, realizing she was about to be very late for a budget meeting, scooping up the appropriate files and her phone her office door finally opened. She was unsurprised to find everyone, Garcia included in the bullpen, and while it was still a professional level of quiet, it was very clearly a casual day.
“Hey Reid!” She called out as she made her way across the room and the man looked up, “I need you to clear those books out of that spare desk you’ve been using as a library by the end of the day.”
“But…where will I?” He started and she chuckled.
“There’s an empty shelf in JJ’s old office.”
“Does this mean we’re finally getting a new agent?” Garcia asked with an excited grin.
Alex had already put it together, her eyes glancing toward her phone and she couldn’t help but reach out to tap the screen, frowning when there was no notification from you. Emily caught the movement, especially when Alex looked up to her with a curious expression and she let out a small laugh.
“I just sent the email and she’s out on a case right now. Besides, I’m not even sure if she’s actually going to take the job.”
Without another word she slipped through the door, effectively leaving the team to excitedly gossip over the new team member. Emily’s wording, and direction directly to Alex had them all assuming the same thing, this mystery girl from Boston who happened to be in New York last week was going to be their newest profiler.
*
A few hours later, and a few hours up the coast; you were letting out a huff of a tired sigh, tucking into a stool at the kitchen island. Your laptop was open in front of you, phone on the island beside a notebook where you’d been scribbling out multiple ‘to-do’ lists to organize everything you had to get done and it seemed like the list was just getting longer and longer as the day went on. You’d just unwrapped your take out dinner when your phone began to buzz on the counter top. You let out a small whine, dropping your food back to the counter, praying it wasn’t work but Alex’s name flashed across your screen and a smile broke out on your lips.
“Hey.” You answered, popping the phone onto speaker mode.
“I believe congratulations are in order.” Her voice came through the phone and you could practically see her grin, letting out a small laugh.
“I guess they would be.”
“Drinks on me when you get out here?”
“Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.” Standing from the stool you crossed the kitchen to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine. When you opened it the cork pop echoed through the room,
“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Alex asked and you laughed, pouring the wine into a fresh glass.
“No.” You settled back in your spot, “you just mentioned drinks and it made me realize I think I deserve a celebratory one.”
“Well cheers to you then.” Despite not being able to see it, Alex still raised her own glass before taking a sip, listening to you do the same.
“Mmmm. God, yeah, needed that.”
“Long case?”
“Nah. We wrapped this morning; my paperwork was done before lunch. Once I got Emily’s email I put in the transfer papers with the brass and took the rest of the day off.”
“Big celebration plans?” She asked with a tease and you laughed again.
“More like I have an entire apartment to clean out and pack up in god knows how short of time. I’ve already made three trips to donation and one to the dump, got as much as I can listed to sell.”
“Do you have to worry about breaking a lease?”
“No. Thankfully I own, so I can leave all that to my realtor and not have to worry.”
“That’s good!”
“Yeah.” You smiled, “hey… the weather’s not that different down there, right? Or am I gonna need a completely new wardrobe?”
“It’s relatively the same.” She laughed back, “but make sure you have at least a couple of things for extreme weather, you never know where a case will take us.”
“Right, right.” You muttered, picking up your pen to scribble down a couple of things on the notepad, “Prentiss said the usual business casual…”
“Yeah, no one’s really particular about it. As long as you look put together she’s not nitpicky about things.”
“Go bag’s like, a small duffle, what’d you use for daily?”
“Same over the shoulder I use when I teach. But if you’re a pockets and hands girl I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She teased and you laughed, playfully rolling your eyes before you paused to finally take a bite of dinner.
“Mm. Sorry.” You mumbled over the bite of food as you chewed and it was her turn to chuckle.
“So I did catch you at an awkward time.”
“It’s fine.” You waved her off, wiping at your mouth with a napkin, “like hell I was cooking today, it’s just take out.”
“What’ve you got? It’s chicken stir fry over here.”
“I stopped at Little Whale for a lobster roll, figured I should get as ‘em while I can.”
“Oh James was talking about that place, said it’s one of the best in town.”
“And it shall be missed.” You sighed before taking another bite, “okay…. Top places in Washington, romanticize me.”
Alex let out a laugh, the smile reaching her eyes as she sipped at her wine, thinking about the best places she’d been over the years living there.
“You know, I’ve become pretty fond of Founding Farmers, it’s all house made from scratch, absolutely delicious, including cocktails. But if you’re looking for something like Little Whale, a place like Plume, Monocle might be better compared.”
“Eh,” you shrugged, “I’m not really into the crazy fancy places, it’s just the freshest lobster in town.”
“Fair.” She laughed, taking another bite of her dinner.
“Best breakfast?”
“Oh Cracked Eggery, hands down.” She quickly swallowed her food, “it’s mainly sandwiches, but they’ve got these garlic parm truffle tots and they are the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.”
“Please tell me that’s on the morning commute.”
“From me? Yes.” She laughed.
“Wait…” you stalled, wine halfway to your mouth, “I think we need to backpedal a bit. You’re in Washington, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” You finally took a swig, “cause I won’t lie, I’ve only been to Quantico once and that was for my training fucking decades ago. It always confused me that everyone always says DC, but Quantico is in Virginia… like, I may be a federal agent but I somehow didn’t realize that DC wasn’t like, a full sized state.” You felt yourself cringe at the admission but Alex let out a playful laugh,
“It’s confusing, especially if you’re not from around the area or spend a lot of time here.”
“So like, should I be looking into information about DC, or should I be looking at settling in Virginia? Cause Maryland would be too far North and a bitch of a commute, right?”
“I mean, it’s all up to you when it comes down to it. Most of us are in DC, but like you said, a commute from Virginia might be easier on you. Traffic can be a bit of a bitch.”
“Okay, hold on.” You toggled on the track pad of your laptop to wake it up, “let me pull up a couple of places I’ve been looking at. How bad’s the drive from DC?”
“Nothing terrible.” She shrugged, moving from the table to scrape her plate into the garbage and put it into the dishwasher, “make sure you have an EZ pass if you plan on driving. I usually keep occupied with audio books, or just leave earlier to beat the rush. Public transportation is pretty decent, but again, crowded.”
“And inconvenient considering the hours we end up working.”
“Exactly.” She smiled softly, refilling her wine glass.
“Okay, bare with me as I sort though all this, I swear I have every possible window open on my laptop.”
“Okay.” She chuckled, picking up her glass and moving into the living room to settle onto the couch.
“Found a couple good places in Columbia Heights?”
“No.” Alex immediately shook her head, “heavy gang presence. Relatively safe during the day if you use your head but I’d be worried coming home late.”
“I knew it seemed too good to be true.” You huffed, un-favouriting the postings until you came across another one, your lips pursing. “Chevy Chase?” You raised an eyebrow before you scrolled down the page and let out a small laugh, “well, considering my salary that’s out.” You repeated the process, “okay, not as nice as the last but this one’s in Brentwood.”
“Absolutely not. Now you’re going in the wrong direction.” Alex said with a laugh and you huffed, rolling your eyes.
“You’re so much more direct than google ever would have been, bless you.”
“I told you I was more than happy to help, didn’t I?”
“Georgetown? That’s where you regularly teach, right?”
“Whenever I can.” She replied, “it’s one of the nicest areas in Washington, probably run into a lot of the younger demographic thanks to the school, it can be relatively pricey though. Their French Market on the weekends is not to miss though.”
“Noted.” You scribbled that down onto the pad of paper, clicking through the listing before double saving it with a star for later. “Okay last one I’ve got in Washington is in Petworth.”
“Ehh…” Alex grimaced, “high homeless population, which isn’t that much of an issue, but again, not very safe at night.”
“Ugh. Okay.” You let out a sigh, pausing to take the final bite of your sandwich, “I’ve got a couple of places in Alexandria to look at, I’ll check with my realtor and see if she can set me up with someone down there to get a better vantage point.” You minimized the page containing all the listings to reveal the Airbnb site and you let out another groan, “fuck, now I’m gonna have to go through all the Airbnb’s I bookmarked too…” Withholding a whine you took another sip of your drink, “why is this such a pain in the ass?”
“Better question is why are you looking at Airbnb’s? That’s gonna jack up you spending in a heartbeat, it’s not cheaper than renting!”
“Yeah but after comparing it to hotel costs in DC I think I’d rather have an actual kitchen and the mental security of knowing I’m the only person with a key if we’re away on a case, no numerous housekeeping and hotel staff in and out constantly.”
“Okay you’ve lost me now.” She admitted with a chuckle, “why hotels?”
“I’m not about to buy a place without seeing it in person first.” You laughed, “no matter how incredible a realtor is. And Emily warned that I might get less than a day in the city before we’re off on a case, it might take me a while to actually find a place I’m willing to call home.”
“While I understand that, it’s still completely ridiculous to waste your money like that.”
“It’s either that or flying back and fourth multiple times over the next couple of weeks and guess which is cheaper?” You sighed and Alex let out a huff, tugging her lip into her mouth, “so unless you’ve got another solution in that big brain of yours, Professor Blake…”
She paused for a moment, her eyes drifting across to the arm chair the James would frequent after dinner, now left empty every evening before they shifted in the direction of the kitchen where her single plate was stashed in the dishwasher, where she consistently was making a meal for one.
“Actually…. I do…” She couldn’t help but smile as the idea started to spring to life in her brain.
“Oh?” You asked, pausing in your scrolling through the Airbnb site.
“Come stay with me.”
“Are you serious?” You asked, suddenly sitting upright and she chuckled.
“Yes. I’m in DC, it’s a nice house in a good neighborhood, decent commute. I’ve got a guest room, there’s a home office and another extra room you could toss a desk in or do whatever you’d like with. James used it as an office but he took most of the furniture when he moved. It’s been sitting empty since.”
“Alex… I really don’t want to intrude….”
“You wouldn’t be.” She took a sip of her drink, “I’ve discovered I’m not too fond of an empty house. Despite the fact that James was gone a lot for work there was still a feeling of him here, now it’s just kinda lonely. I could use the company.” She laughed.
“You sure you wouldn’t get sick of me if we’re working together too? I mean that might be a lot…”
“It’ll make my commute to Quantico far less boring.” She teased and you let out a huff of a laugh, “there’s a backyard pool and hot tub…”
“Oh now you’re just tempting me.”
“You need a place to stay, and I have space just sitting here unused. I enjoy your company, it’s the least I could do.”
“Okay.” You smiled in the direction of your phone, finally closing your laptop, “but only until I find an actual place, promise I’ll be on my best behaviour and you feel free to kick me out whenever you’re sick of me.”
“I doubt that will happen.” She smirked and you rolled your eyes before your head turned to the beeping coming down the hall.
“Ah, fuck. I’ve gotta swap my laundry over.”
“Go.” She waved you off, “it’s getting late anyways. I’ll send you the address and some pictures in the morning, let you know what you’re getting into.”
“If it’s good enough for you, I’m sure it’s perfect.”
“Night y/n.”
“G’night Alex.”
With a soft smile on your cheeks you hit the hang up button on your phone before pocketing it and wandering down the hall to deal with the laundry. You let out a content sigh as you moved back into the main room, scooping up your wine and dropping onto the couch with considerably less stress tensing up your body. The move itself was already intimidating, but you weren’t about to let that stop you, you always powered through. Now, you had someone already willing and prepared to help you through things and figure out the details before the brass had even sent through your papers. Perhaps your move to Washington was not only going to go smoother than expected but was exactly what the universe had in store for you.
______________
@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik
#alex blake#criminal minds#alex blake x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#alex blake: criminal minds#love comes quietly
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
References to the Odyssey in owl odyssey
Spoilers for the episode Owl Odyssey!
When I saw the episode Owl Odyssey I was taken by surprise since there were a lot of references to the actual odyssey! It's a bit of a funny coincidence since recently I've been obsessed with the musical "Epic" which is based on the Odyssey. So I'm going to be analyzing all the references I caught in Owl Odyssey. I put the "keep reading" since this post ended up super long.
The episode starts with Aviva, Martin, Chris, and Koki being on the spaceship Aviva made. After the Kratt bros accidently start the ship it flies off and ends up landing in the ocean which leaves Jimmy Z all alone at the Tortuga. This starts the Wild Kratts "Odyssey" as they now have to try to find their way home without any technology except Aviva's creature power disk maker and the miniaturizer.
Throughout the episode we can see that more and more animals move in, starting with the grizzly bear and they end up kicking Jimmy Z out of the Tortuga. I think the animals moving in to the Tortuga are meant to represent Antinous and the other suitors that move in to Odysseus' castle while he is trying to get home. And I guess it would make Jimmy Z Penelope since he is left to wait for the team to get back home while the creatures take over.
While they are on their way back home in the hot air balloon Aviva converted the ship into, Chris hears the call of some burrowing owls and is ready to jump out of the ship to get to them! I believe this is a reference to the Sirens who tried to lure Odysseus and his crew out to sea with their songs.
According to https://www.awesomestories.com/asset/view/Odysseus-and-the-Sirens
"Therefore pass these Sirens by, and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear; but if you like you can listen yourself, for you may get the men to bind you as you stand upright on a cross-piece half way up the mast, and they must lash the rope's ends to the mast itself, that you may have the pleasure of listening. If you beg and pray the men to unloose you, then they must bind you faster. (See Samuel Butler’s translation of The Odyssey, Book XII, online via MIT.)"
Chris ends up asking Martin to help him out of the ropes so he can see the owls and Martin almost ends up almost helping him out of the Ropes until the crew miniaturizes Martin since they have to get home!
While miniaturized, Martin ends up meeting a Barn Owl and since nobody can hear the barn Owl he ends up naming the barn owl "Nobody". "Nobody" tries to attack Martin but Martin gets away and when he tries to tell the wild kratts crew that he was attacked they don't understand them since he keeps saying "Nobody" attacked him.
This is similar to when Odysseus is on the island with the cyclops but since he doesn't want to tell the cyclops his name he just says his name is "Nobody". When the Cyclops betrays him and attacks Odysseus, Odysseus hurts the cyclops and the cyclops calls out to their neighbors for help but the neighbors think the cyclops has gone crazy since the cyclops keeps saying he was attacked by "Nobody". Also, Chris just scooting over to check out who "Nobody" is and to see the chaos cracks me up lol.
Finally, the owl is often associated with the goddess Athena and seen as a symbol of intelligence and are effective hunters. Athena was the goddess of strategy, wisdom and warfare. Athena was also a patron of Odysseus in the Odyssey.
According to classicalwisdom.com
"Athena was a virgin warrior goddess, and was widely worshipped in the Greek world. The goddess was the embodiment also of strategy, wisdom, warfare and technical skills. Athena played a major role in the works of Homer, and is often shown as the patron of heroes such as Odysseus.
Athena was long associated with the owl. " https://classicalwisdom.com/culture/the-owl-of-athena-symbol-of-wisdom/
"Of the two Homeric poems, Athena plays a much larger role in the Odyssey. She essentially acts as the protector of Odysseus. At various points across Odysseus’ journey, it is Athena’s help and guidance that allow the cunning hero to escape to safety. Moreover, it is Athena’s request to Zeus that allows Odysseus to leave the island of Circe."
At the end of the episode, Chris uses his creature power suit to turn into an owl, fly the crew back home, and kick out all of the creatures from the tortuga. Aviva is inspired after seeing all kinds of different owls throughout their journey.
Soo that's all, 10/10 episode. :D It really lived up to the name "Owl Odyssey"! :D
#wild kratts#martin kratt#chris kratt#homer's odyssey#owls#Celeste Analyses#This episode took me by surprise!#I've been wanting to do this analysis for days
19 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
mullemaus2207
Mullemaus
masakali-udi
udiyo na dariyo
toritumbled
Long Live
taxthejoker
Oscar romero
uhdrienne
adri 🤍