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#but the rest of the house was probs like
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You know I don’t think we make big enough of a deal about in the pilot episode when Patricia is talking about how Joy’s disappeared and hasn’t called her, and Jerome says to her, “Patricia, you’ve disappeared more than enough times.”
What does that mean????? Has she run away from school a bunch before??? Not shown up to dinners?? Dodged her friends’ calls?? Jerome just says this pretty casually without any additional explanation and it’s never addressed again. Bro literally what does he mean that Patricia’s disappeared a bunch of times?? That feels like something significant that there’s a story behind. What does this mean. What happened. I need answers!!!
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mangostar · 1 year
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theres a different between having sensory issues with foods and being an asshole
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quasieli · 6 months
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Isn't it the greatest being a person with sound sensitivity issues and living in a house 4 very loud adults who don't know how to talk to each other, so they end up screaming? So fun.
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dmclemblems · 2 years
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Regarding Claude and Leonie's support vs Dimitri and Yuri's: On one hand yes, Claude feeling that he can't do this himself shows that he should learn to move out of his bubble more, as Dimitri shows that being a king doesn't limit one's ability to mingle with the commoners on a personal level. But on the other hand, I still like that he gives his people a voice through Leonie - another commoner, and one of the most commoner student in the game (no experience as a rich merchant, or a famous diva, or a noble's adpoted child - she's one of the exceedingly few characters that has NO experience being any kind of well-off). It shows that he does still care for them, even if he feels like he isn't allowed to attach himself to them on a personal level - speaks to his character overall really, that he genuinely cares about the people around him but something in HIM stops him from connecting to others as much as he wants to.
He's more disconnected from the commoners than Dimitri is, but it's something he acknowledges and something he's working on in his own way - and that way involves his friends! It involves TRUSTING his friends to help him!! - and that's kinda neat to me. Well, until the game decided that actually he hates having any responsibility and that he wants to run away from all of the work he gave himself before blaming his own actions on an innocent woman that he's going to brutally slaughter for no reason. Since Hopes is apparently deathly allergic to even the CONCEPT of basic consistency.
damn i was gone from tumblr for so long that i didn’t know asks could get this long lmao
Oh I do like that Claude is getting help from commoners. That at least is a very normal thing for Claude to do.
I do feel like it was pretty odd for him to take on all that work and then continuously make jokes about not wanting to do it. It was consistent enough that it sounds like he actually regrets it, and iirc there was a quick mention implying he might?
Part of what aggravates me about the way Claude was written in this game is that yeah, he blames what he does on everyone else, such as “they wouldn’t surrender” or “they have to surrender so there are fewer causalities or else it’s their fault if people die”. I hate that he takes no responsibility for invading other people’s lands and pulls the “it’s their fault” card when really, Faerghus was minding its own business. It’s not Dimitri’s fault that people die in a war that he didn’t start. He was working on Faerghus’ politics and defending from the Empire. You can’t go to someone’s house, rob them while armed and then go “it’s your fault your family died because you wouldn’t give me your valuables”. That’s just stupid, and Claude isn’t supposed to be stupid.
Another thing that bothered me was just the overall lack of consistency in the second half. In the first half he was fine, but in the second half they made it a point to make him not want to sacrifice people and the stuff we’re used to, but then he’d turn around and do something terrible and blame his enemies for it. The only thing he took responsibility for was Randolph because all his allies got pissed about that, but if they didn’t get mad at him, he didn’t really care about what he was doing/who he had to kill.
There are times when he does seem to genuinely care regarding not wanting to kill people, but his excuses for the people he does kill always cast the blame on the actual victims. I don’t think he’s heartless, but he definitely lacks any kind of decency. Claude’s always been the type to do whatever was necessary to win as long as it didn’t involve causalities, and if it had to that would be because they were being attacked first.
For instance, he was really upset in SB when tons of people died because he insisted on fighting Leopold and the Empire still got him out of that fight alive. He wondered if they should’ve just surrendered to the Empire in the first place because it would’ve saved lives, but Hilda reminds him that the people in the Alliance would never have gone for that without putting up a fight first. In that situation, he’s upset about it but he was in the right to fight back. People died, yeah, but because he was trying to defeat the strongest general in the invading army.
It’s not Claude’s personality that I don’t like in this game. I think his general characteristics and behavior are pretty standard for what we’d expect. I just hate how they made him be the one to make all the questionable choices and do things that disregarded his morals. Even Edelgard, at least in SB, isn’t as bad as he is in GW in some ways. In SB it also seems more like Claude allied with her because he was so defeated and stressed out from their losses that he gave up. In GW, he’s a lot crueler and while I think Claude can be dubious from time to time, I don’t think he’s supposed to be outright cruel.
Like, I’m sorry but guilt tripping Ashe to join them and making Ashe question his choices for the entire rest for the game was just painful to watch. Ashe hated betraying Faerghus and probably would’ve gone down fighting if Dimitri hadn’t told him to prioritize his life over his loyalty. Claude obviously knew Dimitri was like that and used it against Ashe to make Ashe stop fighting, but it wasn’t like “you can surrender, give us the stronghold and we’ll let you live”. It was “you can surrender and join our army and actively fight against your friends or die”. When it comes to Claude, I would expect him to lean far more toward the end of “just surrender and leave” not “join our army and help us slaughter your friends :)”. Even Yuri calls him “vicious” for it.
Something I noticed was that throughout GW, the characters in camp were questioning Claude’s choices very regularly. It got to the point where a lot of people were disgusted with his choices. That does mean the writers are self aware, and that bugs me even more tbh.
It feels like they wanted to try something new with Claude but didn’t really know exactly how to pull it off, and it just feels like a convoluted mess. I want to like Claude in Hopes just because... he’s Claude and I like Claude, but it’s so damned difficult when he does half the shit he does.
#I also don't recall if the writers were new and not the same from Houses#or if there was one person from the previous writing team there and the rest were new?#I think I heard something about it not being the same writing team and I also think#I heard something about one of the old writers being there to help with it? so idk what's true in this case#It makes me sad because this is the last we'll see of these characters and I feel like for many people#this will leave a bad taste in their mouths for Claude's character#I REALLY don't expect another game/spinoff related to Fodlan#the closest thing we'd get is new Heroes alts and whatever DLC will pop up with Hopes#other than that tho I'm not sure how else they'd manage to milk this series in particular#without at least worrying about backlash from people who are tired of seeing Fodlan and co#I mean I wouldn't necessarily mind bc I love Houses and it's within my top five FE games#but I know people are gonna get bored of it much faster than me which in my case is largely bc I love the characters#I guess in the future we might end up with like... maybe another spinoff/Warriors crossover#where we get some Houses characters with other FE characters since that's what the original FE Warriors game was#that at least I could see happening and it would prob be based on Houses and not Hopes#or just some new crossover/spinoff game entirely but... other than that I wouldn't expect another Fodlan game#also they rly need a world name and not just a continent name because there are tons of known continents in this game fjkadsg#Three Hopes Spoilers#DCE Ask
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rosykims · 1 year
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i think the reason (or at least one reason) why varric is so unapologetic abt his bananas retelling of cillian's ~champion of kirkwall~ tale is bc cillian's life was quite honestly already batshit insane before he even met the guy. i love the idea of him being a jack of all trades kinda dude so yeah he was a carpenter in lothering in the three years between malcolm's death and enlisting for ostagar, plus a hobbyist painter on the side which is... eh its cool ig. but he also left home when he was 18 and travelled to orlais and antiva for several years was briefly. ahem. a mercenary. a lord of fortune. an acrobat with a travelling circus. a cat burglar. a BARD. and also (very briefly) an assassin <3 so honestly varric at this point is underselling him lol
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cepheusgalaxy · 3 months
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Things that make me feel awful (from worse to least bad)
The song "Trem-bala"
Going to sleep at dawn, when the sun is rising/to rise
The kid's show "Tinga Tinga"????
Food I don't like
Having to misgender myself
Things that make me feel better/great/happy
Find inspo material for whump/worldbuilding
Use weird pronouns on tumblr
My fave musics at the moment
Learning another language
Sleeping in a car ride
Sleeping in the afternoon
Combing my hair
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gender-euphowrya · 8 months
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fuck lady jannath's estate god damn
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Random Captain John Price headcanons
sfw and nsfw
pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (cod mw)
tags/tw: domestic stuff, afab!reader, masturbation, spanking, hickeys, Price is an ass-man
a/n: inspired by a conversation I had with @melancholyy-hill and just some random thoughts, might do a second part to this, tell me if you want any other characters
John Price MASTERLIST
sfw
-Price has two phones, one for work and a private one, he doesn't like using the same one when he's deployed in countries where there's definitely a chance of it getting hijacked
-he's so tidy, like having a surroundings to calm his mind, make it easier to concentrate for him
-he's also pretty strict with his own cleanliness
-don't get me wrong, Price doesn't mind getting dirty on the field and in bed, would be weird if he did lol, but once at home or base, he takes care of himself
-we talking beard oil, grooming, trimming his nails if they got jagged during deployment and picking out the dirt from beneath them
-not that he dislikes showing you off in public, on the opposite he loves having you by his side, showing others you're his, but he gets uneasy with PDA
-that's why he's such an old-fashioned gentleman with showing you affection around people, those small gestures that make women swoon and telling you that you're found 'a good one, god you're so lucky'
-hand on the small of your back in a crowd is a must, palm resting on your knee when sitting down, you walk on the side furthest from the road, standing/walking behind you on the escalator or stars if you're wearing a skirt, kisses to your hand, temple, forehead or crown
-he always does the bed in the mornings despite you being the one who wakes up last
nsfw below the cut
-he's such a fucking ass man, like he appreciates boobs, thinks your nipples look good poking through a shirt or deliciously teasing in lingerie, but he prefers your ass
-like this man's hand is drawn to the plush flesh of your rear like magnets, just like his eyes
-back turned? eyes down, staring at ass.
-don't get him started at how he folds when watching it jiggle in doggy style or reversed cowgirl
-lowkey struggles not to blatantly stare or grab at you when you're in public and the pants/leggings you're trying on make it look too fucking good for his health
-sometimes you can just be relaxing, laying on your stomach and he comes up from behind, kneading your ass, swatting it to watch it jiggle
-other times, he pulls you on top of him, resting a book against your ass as he reads, one of his hands always groping you, you simply prop a pillow on his legs to get comfortable as you'd gotten used to this request of his
- you've stopped counting the times he'd put down his book and started parting your asscheeks as he massages your rear, in the end Price can't help how his thumb rubs the folds of your covered pussy
-if he gets to know you don't mind spanking, it's over, the man swats your ass constantly around the house,
-he thinks your gasps are adorable as you shoot him a look he ignores bc he knows you like it
-does not whine, not a particularly big moaner either, but the grunts and groans is enough to make up for it
-high-sex drive when he's around you, but during deployment he keeps it under wraps, which leads me to...
-not that big of a masturabator, but once in a while he needs to rid himself of the crawling desire in his spine, simply having to jerk one out to be able to concentrate, probs because he thought about you for too long
-BUT he actually really loves mutual masturbation, started when he walked in on you once when returning unexpectedly early from a mission
-'don't mind me, love, continue' he would husk at your wide eyes following him as walked from the bedroom doorframe to the little seating area you had in front of the bed, sometimes used when you did your makeup or Price would read, sitting down and to your surprise pulling down his pant, jerking his already half-hard cock to full length, waiting expectantly
-he puts on a show as well, using two hands, one to stroke himself in matching speed to how you finger yourself, the other cupping and fondling his balls
-would definitely not shy from throwing his head backwards when reaching his sensitive cocked with palms too rough in comparison to your soft ones
- Price is so fucking sly about where he leaves hickeys
-as previously mentioned, he doesn't really like the public attention it pulls, but a primal part of him swells when seeing the marks he's left during your intimate moments, so he definitely likes to give you little lovebites
-so you can bet your ass you could leave the house in a crop-top and they wouldn't be visible, strategically placed where no one but him and you could see them, meaning the line of your panties, on or around your breast, inner thighs, etc
-the beach might be a problem however, you would never forget the time Soap had cackled like a fucking madman when he'd spotted the marks' inconspicuous placement, leaving absolutely no room to guess what Price had done between your legs
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qtkoshi · 11 months
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Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol
i luv ur brain anon
"you got....a kitten?"
- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all
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──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars !
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general headcannons
alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears. 
i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.
NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU
this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn
hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)
how u got him
imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and
now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!
bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.
'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'
man can't even argue with you
hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent
u can tho.
and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)
spider-squad finding out ab him
the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ????? 
pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie
'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope
i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn
hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud 
you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine
everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ ) 
“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”
luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk
speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.
anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute
says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)
you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’
promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”
cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s
more gen headcannons
remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise
hobie loves to play fight with the cat
spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win
i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ A New Brother?!
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content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic (ft. my baby boy tyson) warning: i wanna say none but i dont trust myself, language probs author's note: okay okay so this one was the first winner!! the rest will follow in order with how many votes they got and such. but first LETS PUT A LITTLE RESPECT ON TYSONS NAME YALL THAT'S MY SON OF POSEIDON FR FR HES JUST A LITTLE GUY I CANT-
“dude! dude! dude!” y/n called as she ran from the big house toward percy, who was sitting on the steps outside of cabin three with annabeth, both of them looking up at her yells.
“bro! bro! bro!” percy called back with a laugh, sharing a look with annabeth, who shook her head at the two siblings as she went back to her architectural sketches for something.
“i’ve got news!” y/n cheers, standing before percy with her hands pulled up to her chest and an unbeatable smile on her lips. percy motioned for her to go on, looking at her suspiciously.
“my favorite brother will be joining us at camp for the next three days,” y/n announced, proudly, causing percy to jump up to his feet too.
“no way! what?” he cheered, the two of them soon jumping in a circle. annabeth laughed at them, getting joy from their joy. leo had walked over at some point, looking at the children of poseidon with concern. annabeth waved him over to sit next to her, giving them the perfect view of the excited teens.
“what did i miss?” leo questioned, unable to take his eyes off the pair but turning his head towards annabeth.
“tyson, their brother, is coming to stay at camp for a few days. they don’t see him very often because he works with the cyclops with their father, so they tend to get a bit excited,” annabeth explained with a shrug. leo nodded, having already been told about tyson by y/n. she loved to rave about him, proudly showing the picture of him she kept in her cabin at any needed moment.
“i call dibs on snack duty! you didn’t even get anything good last time,” y/n insisted, pointing at percy as they sat down next to their respective significant others, both a little out of breath and sweaty, but smiling nonetheless.
“whatever. tyson liked those pickle chips,” percy huffed, jokingly rolling his eyes.
“yeah, but i did not like the smell of your guys' breath,” y/n replied, scrunching her face up, which earned her a laugh.
“okay, okay, fair. so i'm on movie duty then?” percy questioned and y/n nodded.
“yes, cause tyson’s on fort duty, duh,” answered y/n before she spun in leo’s arms and looked up at him, who looked down at her with a raised brow and a smile
“hi, hey,” she rapidly shot out before pressing her lips against his and promptly pulling back.
“gross!” percy called, earning him an elbow against his rib from annabeth.
“please, i was tortured by you two for like five summers, i’ve earned my dues,” y/n replied, squinting at the two with a glare.
“fair enough.”
tyson showed up a few days later, a large dopey smile on his face as he waved the hippocampus that gave him a ride away. y/n and percy were, obviously, the first to greet him and get him settled in their cabin. most of the older campers knew tyson or at least knew of him, so they weren’t really too phased by the cyclops being at camp. it was the younger ones who took a little more time, but with how sweet tyson was it really wasn’t a problem. leo had gotten caught up in the forges, annabeth having asked him if he could roadtest something for her, which sent him down a rabbit hole of trying to figure it out.
“leo?!” y/n’s voice called through the forge, leo’s eyes moving from the twisted metal in front of him to the girl standing in the doorway of the forge, along with a bulkier and taller figure.
“hey, honey. give me a minute, yeah?” he called as both of his hands were occupied. he didn’t hear anything in response but he trusted that she was probably just showing tyson some of the new projects or something like that. after a bit, leo walked up, shoving his goggles up and dusting his hands off on his once white shirt.
“leo, this is tyson, my brother. tyson, this is leo, my boyfriend,” y/n introduced, gesturing between the two. leo held his hand out to the cyclops, smiling widely.
“hey, man, nice to meet you. y/ns, here, loves to rave about you,” mused leo before he was promptly pulled into a bone crushing huge.
“right, sorry, tyson’s a hugger,” y/n winced, forgetting to mention that to leo, who groaned as he was let go. he shot a look at the girl, who giggled quietly behind her hand.
“a new brother! very exciting, sister, and he can build things!” tyson cheered, happily nodding his head. leo blushed at the insinuation and y/n coughed, opening her mouth to correct him.
“oh, tyson, he’s not- we’re not- he’s just my boyfriend. when…when we get married, he’d be your brother,” y/n tried to explain, her voice catching on the word ‘when.’ then she shared a look with leo, which just solidified her ‘when’ and not ‘if.’
“oh,” tyson frowned, his eyebrows furrowing and leo had a feeling tears would be next.
“y/n mentioned you work in forges, right? come on, i’ll show you what i’m working on, could use some help,” leo redirected, easily, nodding his head back towards the forges. tyson’s eye lit up and he looked over at y/n for permission, but she was looking at leo with a melty and soft look in her eyes.
"sister?"
“hmm? oh, yeah, you’re good, tyson. just bring him back to percy and i before dinner, okay, lee?” y/n asked and leo gave her a salute, which tyson mimicked with a little laugh. y/n watched them go, her heart full of love and a blinding smile on her face.
right before dinner, percy and y/n were making their way towards the forge to pick up tyson, but tyson came running out of the forge in excitement, something clasped safety in his large hands. the siblings shared a look as leo trailed after him.
“percy! y/n! look!” he proudly cheered, stopping before the two and unfurling his hands to reveal a small metallic horse sculpture. he squealed in excitement on seeing it again.
“wow! super cool, tyson!” percy cheered, clapping the cyclops on the back.
“you make that yourself or did leo?” y/n jumped in, beaming a smile between her boyfriend and little brother.
"oh, all tyson. i only helped here and there," leo mused, holding his hands up with a wide smile and a wink to you and percy.
"yup. all me," tyson echoed, clearly having grown fond of leo in the past few hours.
"good job, buddy! wanna go show annie?" percy offered with a wide smirk, which had tyson nodding his head and following after his brother. you stayed behind with leo, watching your siblings go as leo wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder.
"thank you. for hanging out with him today," you whispered and you could feel leo shrug as he pressed a kiss to your shirt clad shoulder.
"course. he's a good guy and handy in the forges. being fireproof tends to be helpful," leo replied and you giggled, turning to make eye contact with him.
"and you'd know all about that, huh?" you taunted and leo rolled his eyes, releasing his hands from you, which just caused you to laugh harder.
"whatever. and to think, i made you a present!" huffed the son of hephaestus, turning his nose up at the girl.
"ooo, what'd ya make?" she questioned, poking at his side with her fingers.
"no. mean girlfriend's don't get gifts," added leo, trying to dodge the attack of her fingers the best he could.
"c'mon, don't be that way, pretty boy," you pouted, batting your eyes at him in a way that had leo instantly folding, reaching back into his tool belt with a tiny shake of his head.
"that's an abuse of power," he stated before presenting you with a metal lily, delicately sculpted and stretched out of metal. and you were instantly swooning, gently caressing it with your fingers before darting your wide eyes up to him.
"only the longest lasting flowers for my girl," leo added, winking with a smirk. you rolled your eyes but clutched the flower to your chest like it was your child.
"y/n! stop flirting and come help with the snacks!" percy called, giving you a pointed look and setting a hand against his hip like a mother. you huffed at him, sticking your tongue out before turning to leo and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"you're the sweetest boy, valdez," you whispered to the skin of his cheek before racing off, shouts that you'll make it to cabin three first, which sent both of your brothers barreling after you. leo watched this with a smile and a blush slowly rising to where your lips had been.
yeah, he was going to marry this girl. tyson'd throw a fit if he didn't. and he just couldn't have that, could he?
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velvetures · 9 months
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Hi baby!! I like your writing sm it's amazing 💓💓 If RQs are open I would like to request König stealing from readers dirty panties to use when he's self pleasuring~ she finds out and confronts him and one thing leads to another and next thing you know he's got her thighs locked on the side of his head while she rides his face so he can finally taste what he's been wanting for weeks. Thank you so much I know you'll do great with this req
Do Me?... A Favor
A/N: God, I love this! I had such a great time writing this and might've needed a lil' break halfway through. This trope has a special place in my heart. (I'm mentally unwell) So I hope you enjoy! Forgive me for being so late on this. Summary: König steals your panties and does dirty things with them. You catch him, and... well... you and I both know exactly what happens after that. T/W: !!NS/FW 18+ ONLY!!!, thievery of panties, male masturbation, fem-reader, dirty talk, fantasy mentions, face riding, exhibitionism if you have 20/20 vision, fem-recieving oral, spanking?, prob missed something... I don't proofread, ya'll better know this by now.
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Extended missions with KORTAC usually meant that König would be within touching distance of you for days on end. Hearing you talk with his squad and watching you make jokes that got almost every single one of the stone-cold men melting with affection for you. There wasn’t a single one of them that didn’t absolutely adore you; Jump at the chance to help you, offer to take watches, ask to be paired with you, or just try and be the lucky one that got to either sleep with you or next to you. As Colonel, König always had his hands full maintaining order when the girl from the United States sector was sent to help them out.
On a personal level though, König struggled to hide the desperation and pathetically overwhelming feelings of jealousy he had when seeing anyone get that close to you. Having known you the longest, spent the most time alone with you, trusted you with his own mind and vice-versa, the Colonel -problematically- believed he had a bit more of a right to you than any of this men. Perhaps your own behavior towards him didn’t help out much either. So little and gutsy, you always liked teasing him. Tempting him to wrestle and always so confident you’ll win, and toying with his mask; begging so innocently to see the “handsome face” under there.
You’d been like that with him for so long, he couldn’t tell the difference between close friendship and flirting anymore. Blurring lines and also his own ability to control the compulsions to get just a little bit more of you. In any sick or twisted way he might be able to get his hands on. No man could resist your charms and beautiful little face. Especially König, who melted from a towering 6’10 to a weak and desperate boy crawling after you like a lost puppy.
He wasn’t proud of it. Then again, he didn’t care all that much. Especially when he found a way to satisfy his more carnal and disgusting desires for you that couldn’t even be tortured out of him.
In his defense, you’d been the one who started it. Calling out his name when you were in the small bathroom of the safe house and asking him to grab some clothes out of your rucksack, having forgotten to get them yourself. Half dazed knowing you were naked with just a thin, open, door between you had the Colonel making a beeline for your bag and ripping it open to do exactly what you’d asked of him.
Now… if any of his men would’ve asked him if he had a thing for panties, he would’ve very sternly disagreed with the whole idea.
But when he laid eyes on your panties, balled up and stuffed in a little side pocket in white, black, pink, and some cute patterns, the darker side of his mind slipped. Throwing him into an entirely different kind of temptation that he’d never entertained before. He’d hardly been able to deliver your clean clothes to you without incident, and spent the rest of the evening with his brain consumed with fantasies of what you looked like in all those pretty things. Surely your ass looked downright sinful with that material stretching over it and cradling your body closer than he’d ever have the opportunity to. Fuck… even your thighs would be that much more brilliant with the crease made that much more obvious by the hemline of the panties. The images kept flowing long into the night after he should’ve been asleep, his own watch hour ticking closer with each minute.
Struggling with the urge to palm his hard cock and just try to ease some of the pressure. Begging for some type of solution to his weakening self-control. König was up and headed to the bathroom, ready to take care of his painfully throbbing erection before he could even stop to think about how wrong it was to jerk himself off less than fifteen feet away from you and his men. The moment he unzipped his jeans and freed his drooling cock, his mask was shoved up so he could spit in his hand, and stuck his mask between his teeth to try and muffle his own sounds of pleasure.
Thoughts of what you’d look like gasping for breath on top of him, impaling your little body on his cock, spurred König to smear his own spit over his length. Fisting the head and rotating his palm around the tip with a deep rumble in his chest. He wished he could’ve seen you in the shower… soft skin wet and dripping with lathered soap. Rubbing those tiny hands over your body and rinsing away the sweat he’d seen soaking your shirt and running down your neck earlier during your rotation. His hazy vision cut to the shower, looking at it with a mental picture of you taking use of the handheld shower head. Putting it between your plush thighs and watching your tremor.
Only some small and purple sitting in the corner of the floor next to the bathtub froze his movements. Every muscle tensed at the sight of it, and while precum drooled from his swollen head, the Colonel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The massive man didn’t even need to get off his seat on the toilet to pick up the delicate scrap of material and dangle it in front of his face. Taking into account his interaction with you, he couldn’t believe that your dirty underwear had fallen out of the balled up clothes you’d worn all day.
König’s cock twitched at the disturbed idea of smelling them. His body goading his mind to forgo the moral line of doing such a thing, and just do it. You wouldn’t know… his men would never find out… As long as he put them back in your rucksack before morning, there’d be no reason for anyone to question it. Besides, he was so turned on. And it wasn’t hurting anyone for him to just use a piece of your clothes to help let off some steam…
König ripped his mask off his head and let it drop to the floor next to his boot, and hesitantly lifted your panties up to barely touch he tip of his nose. The silky fabric was so damn feminine… so much like you in many ways. He rubbed them between his fingers, slowly moving his other hand up and down his cock; Nearly teasing himself with the full experience. Denying the satisfaction of experiencing your scent intimately. The otherwise self-composed Colonel couldn’t wait another moment, and buried his nose into your dirty panties with a lustful growl muffled by his hand.
His balls tightened with pure excitement, spitting more clear fluid down his shaft and filling the small bathroom with vulgar sucking sounds of his fingers sliding up and down with more desperation. Your scent was nothing short of a sweet and salty pheromone jolt of a daydream that made his brain go to nothing but static and arcs of electricity. His dick throbbed as his second inhale came as a much deeper and purposeful acceptance of this new and still very taboo action.
“F-fuucckk…” König had to whimper into your panties, his hips twitching up into his own fist.
“S-so fucking good…” Even with the very real risk of someone hearing him moaning, König continued whispering and whining his praise and pleads for you into the crotch of your panties. Going so far as to lose his willpower and reach out his tongue to feel the soft fabric and give his tastebuds one, lingering, taste of your sweet cunt. The tangy and candy-sweet remainder lingering in the threads of your panties utterly ripped König’s orgasm out of him.
His toes curling in his boots, his stomach flexing and his one fist tightening around the base of his shaft as thick and pearly release dripped hotly over veins and the between his balls before dripping in quiet drops onto the floor. The Colonel sat for full minutes, working over himself slowly and hiding his panting breath against your used underwear. He felt so goddamn monstrous for using you like this. Going behind your back and cumming over his fist like an animal in rut. Denying just how good of a release he had wasn’t possible either though. Not only had his most recent solo attempts been miserably unsatisfying, but his most horrific thought after cleaning up his evidence was that he wanted nothing more than to pocket your panties and keep them.
The Colonel blamed his own rotation on watch as the reason behind why he pocketed your panties instead of putting them back in your rucksack.
Two days later, you were still quietly in search of your panties that had apparently disappeared into thin air. You’d turned your bag inside out, went through the bathroom at least five times, and checked every other room of the safe house thinking someone might’ve found them and just tossed them somewhere they believed you’d see them. Searching came up with zero sign of your panties, and you felt like you were going insane. Not that it really mattered if they were gone… You had packed plenty of spares in the case you -for some reason- needed two back-ups for every day you were gone and couldn’t buy more. It was more so just the simple fact that you’d been so unobservant to misplace a pair of bright, purple, fucking panties.
Being surrounded by nothing but men only added to your silent mortification.
“You alright Sergeant?” One of the KORTAC guys paired on your rotation nudged your shoulder with his elbow, drawing your attention back to the -quite serious- task at hand.
“You look a little distracted, everything okay?” The look on his face made you think he was concerned that the cold weather was getting to you.
You shook your head. “M’fine. Just lost something, and I can’t fucking find it anywhere.”
He chuckled, adjusting his rifle against his chest. “Something important?”
“No. Not at all,” You sighed, seeing your breath fog up in front of your view of the forest and the heavy snowfall. “Just can’t figure out where it went and I’ve turned the whole house over.”
The Lieutenant at your side looked back towards the edge of the perimeter and then back to you with a little shrug. “Well, i suppose you could go in early. Get warm and have another look around. You’ve already had more shifts than plenty of the other guys.” He patted you on the back and jerked his head back in the direction of the safe house and outlying buildings.
You couldn’t help but grin under your face mask, eyes squinting to show your appreciation and giving him a quick ‘thanks’ before jogging back through the snow. You passed a few of the other guys out on rounds and either waved or called out a short word or two so as to let them know you’d come in for a few hours. Typically König was the one who dictated the different schedules to ensure no one got left out in the snow too long. Kicking off the frozen slush and snow off your boots, you waddled yourself inside and set out to get warmed up and find the Colonel.
Maybe he’s seen my underwear… You muse a bit mortified, unclipping your heavy overalls and yanking your tac vest over your head. God, it was a thought that made you shiver not just from the cold nipping at the wet cuffs of your winter layers and damp socks.
It wasn’t very secret that you had a very soft spot for König. He was just so damn sweet to you, and might’ve always given you a little bit of preferential treatment when you got sent to KORTAC on collaborating missions. Whether he did it because of his belief that you were a woman -and much smaller- than any of his men, or maybe for a more personal motive, you didn’t know. Really having the courage to bring up the topic was extremely intimidating. Joking around and teasing the massively tall and handsome solider was one thing. Asking him to lay out how he truly felt about you as more than an occasional partner was very different.
By the time you’d changed into some dry and comfortable clothes to hang out in for the rest of the evening, you noticed that the few guys lingering in the living room had left out. Leaving you alone, with the entire couch to yourself and a quiet house that gave leeway for a really good nap right in front of the wood-burning stove blaring heat right at you. Thank god for the KORTAC guys being so nice to you, and making sure that you didn’t have a hell-on-earth experience for your first winter in Russia.
You’d not really even gotten settled on the couch when you heard a somewhat loud thump from down on the other end of the house. Nearly like a head or hand smacking against the wall in one of the little rooms -made bedrooms- once you’d all arrived a little over a week ago. It didn’t happen again, and trying to just ignore whatever fools the guys could be making out of themselves outside to make that sort of noise, you just went ahead and closed your eyes again.
Thump.
Your eyes snapped open and stared at the ceiling, tuning your ears to the sounds emanating from the far end of the house. You waited patiently, and a third heavy and thud met your ears. Immediately you were up and on your feet, standing in the entry to the hallway leading that way, seeing that only one door was halfway shut, and it was König’s room at the very end. Eyebrows furrowed and hands resting on your hips, you stared at the door waiting for some kind of sign as to what exactly was happening. Surely one of the others weren’t setting up some kind of prank for the Colonel to come back to… right?
Oh god… he’d be soo mad. We’d all get ripped new asses if that happened.
And it wouldn’t have been the first time you’d faced König’s wrath for nothing more than someone thinking a harmless prank was acceptable. Even if the Colonel was extremely lenient on you, he wasn’t to be toyed with. He was a hard and cold man when it was called of him, and you really didn’t want to risk being thrown back out in the snow within the next twelve hours. What had your feet moving was another small and muffled sound, almost like a clipped and high-pitched sort of thing. It didn’t settle right, and you’d got to the door and pushed it open just a few more inches to tell whoever was in the Colonel’s room to get the fuck out.
You were the one struck speechless.
Through the small gap in the door and frame, you saw none other than König laying on the too-small cot with his shoulders propped up against the wall, mask rucked up over the bottom half of his face, and a distinct, purple, material pressed against his mouth and nose. The sensation of your heart and stomach jumping into your throat nearly choked you of oxygen. You could hardly drag your eyes away from his massive hand teasing his thick and hard cock. Once again, that thud reverberated through the room and it was nothing more than the erotic sight of him throwing his head back against the drywall with an -almost- silenced moan.
“Jesus Christ…” The whispered words fell from your awestruck mouth before you could stop yourself. Breathless, but damn sure loud enough for the Colonel to hear you and his dark eye to snap right to where you’d been peeking through the doorway. His whole body stiffened, and his hand stopped. Even dropping your dirty panties right into his lap. The purple fabric fluttering down to rest at the base of him.
“Shit!” You gasped, turning right around and hiding your face in your hands.
You could hear fabric shuffling and enough of a panicked movement to realize König planned on at least talking to you. Somehow having the sheer guts to not immediately act like nothing had ever happened. You heart thumped right at the back of your throat for what felt like and eternity before you heard the door behind your creak open and the distinct pattern of labored breathing. You jumped when his massive hand rested on your shoulder, nudging you to turn around.
“W-we… need to talk,” He mutters downright guilty. “About, what you just - just saw.” Swallowing the massive wave of conflicting feelings welling up in your mind, stomach, and in your pussy, you nod your head and wait until your hear König walk back into the bedroom before turning around and walking through the door to face him.
Right away your eyes fall down to his belt and take note of the -very large and still very hard- outline of his erection straining against his belt and the zipper of his jeans. Your face flushed bright red, realizing he’d pinned his cock beneath the leather strap around his waist to keep it as under control as possible. Before you could draw your eyes away, one of his hands falls down to shield his arousal, and you hear him clear his throat nervously. It draws your attention back up to his re-masked face. Noticing his eye darting anywhere but your eyes and the rise and fall of his wide shoulders. Comparing reactions, it seems that the Colonel is far more effected than you are.
Maybe you weren’t as… upset as you should be.
“I must apologize for my… disturbing behavior,” He blurts out with a raspy tone, visually shrinking a bit. “I… can’t begin to…” Trailing off, you watch him rub at the back of his neck, in thought and obviously tense.
“I just couldn’t help but - you’re just so…”
Eyebrows furrowed and your interest piqued, you take a step closer; Seeing your used panties tucked under his pillow and a small little glimpse of purple peeking out. Screams in the back of your mind make the very dangerous assumption that he’s still somewhat possessive over the item. It makes the growing wetness in your panties more significant, forcing your to flex your thighs together.
“I’m so, what?” You press softly, your head tilting up at him with the shortening gap between you.
The Colonel audibly swallows, “So… pretty.” You’ve never heard such a whimpering and weak sound from him. Almost like it’s a desperate thought he couldn’t help but admit to you. It stokes a fire inside your belly, and you’re very quick to push just a little more.
“So you stole dirty panties?” A low, gravelly whine escapes from under his mask as shakes his head.
“They were on the floor… And I was so frustrated, I didn’t mean for you find out. I just - just needed to know…” His voice stiffens, but he’s still struggling to defend his actions, and not totally own up to the fact that you’d caught him using your scent to get himself off.
“How many times have you used them, Colonel?” Your voice lowers a little, pussy clenching in anticipation of his answer; Fluttering wet walls that silently beg for more stimulation than the pressure your thighs can provide.
König squirms where he stands, sighing heavily. “Six. Six times… Fuck, I’m so sorry.” His head drops in guilt that actually squeezes your chest with sympathy. He’d always held the biggest piece of your heart, and seeing him so hard on himself for being -not only human- but having been no more desiring for you than you’d been for him… you just couldn’t stand letting him do this anymore.
“Well that just won’t do, will it?” You’re pulling your sweatshirt over your head and dropping it on the floor before König can look up and register what you’re doing. Halfway through pushing your pants down your thighs, you hear a sharp gasp and a little grunt of a sound.
“What are you doing?” His voice has flattened, and you peek up to see his wide eyes roaming all over your exposed skin. You just smile, standing there in a soft bralette and some panties and shrug like this wasn’t making your knees quake under your weight.
“I’m gonna give you fresh pair.” You lick your lips nervously, slipping your fingers under the waistband and begin to tug them down.
“Wait!” He almost shouts, taking a couple steps closer to you and grabbing your wrists to keep you from moving. “F-fuck… just, hold on a second.” He’s panting heavily, staring at you with dilated eyes.
For a long moment, you just stand there feeling his hot skin burning against your own. Silently staring at each other like trying to read the other’s thoughts without attempting to just do it the easy way and ask. You can smell the mint of his toothpaste and that all-too-comforting scent of sandalwood lingering on his body from some kind of cologne or deodorant you’d never quite seen him apply. You’re about to ask him a question when you feel his fingers trailing down your inner wrists towards your hips, and finally resting on the waistband of your panties. Heavy hands being much more gentle than you’d ever experienced, raising chills on your massive expanse of bared skin.
“Can I…?”
His eyes dart between his hands and your eyes with such an innocent look that you’re nodding your head before you actually think it through. Implicit trust had always made you and the Colonel a good pair on the field. Never pausing to think there might be a day like today were you’d test just how good things cold be in the bedroom. He’s down on one knee and nearly eye-level with you, fingers rubbing the fabric withholding the ultimate of your intimate regions… His face so close that it’s brushing against you stomach. Steadying yourself, you grab ahold of his shoulder; Needing some kind of grounding since you can’t really feel your bare feet on the freezing cold floor.
Squeezing the meat of your hips, the Colonel hisses.
“Always thought you were the tiniest thing… Wanted to know how someone so small could be so deadly,” His teasing evolved into slowly pulling at your underwear. Dragging them over the swell of your ass and leaving them there for a moment.
“Lucky me, knowing better than anyone how you can kill a man so slowly.”
He’s slow but purposeful in pulling your panties down your legs, his head following them instead of taking the first look at your bared skin. Reverently, he picks up your bare feet one-by-one and helps you out of the material, immediately rubbing the fabric between his long fingers. Your stomach drops when you realize that he’s purposefully feeling the crotch. Giving away the sheer arousal you’d collected there in mere minutes. It should’ve bothered you, made embarrassment floor your system. Only it just proved to make your legs feel weak under you. Almost visually shaking when the Colonel slid your panties under the hem of his hood.
“Want to tase what I do to you,” He murmured, giving you the exact answer of how pressed you were to find out what was happening under that bleached t-shirt of a shield.
“Need you to watch me…” Your cunt clenched hearing him sound so broken.
Nodding dumbly, your gaze never left König’s eyes. Seeing his heavy lids close, just to open back up drunkenly with a low groan that nearly penetrated your very bones. Wet sucking sounds emanating from under the mask, his tongue lapping at your soaked gusset and leaving no question as to just how fucking hungry he was for it. Spit-covered cotton sucked dry by one of the most powerful and intimidating men on the face of the planet; Down on a knee in front of you and literally lost to your taste. Lips parted and awestruck, you tried to force some words out.
“You look so hot like that, sir.” Breathless, it’s clear just how much it’s effecting you too.
Using his title has his eyes snapping up to you. Dark and dilated pupils, wide shoulders rising and falling quickly, and one hand still circled around your ankle to prevent your -impossible- escape from him. The Colonel is off his knee and has you lifted off the ground with only one arm before you can blink. Spinning you around and dropping you down on his cot; His massive body looming over yours. Downright terrifying save for the sight of your pink underwear hanging limply in his fist. That intimidating shadow of his erection -somehow- bigger than before, twitches against his belt. You’re driving him wild sitting so innocently with your thighs clenched together on his bed. Looking like you hadn’t the slightest idea just how badly he wanted to utterly destroy you right there and now.
“Sergeant?” Maintaining his composure takes every last fiber of concentration. Seeing your head tilt to the side in silent question and anticipation nearly doubles the weight of his balls.
“You must be so needy. Waiting so patiently for someone to give you satisfaction,” He steps closer, hips less than a foot away from you. Tempting your baser instincts to lean forward and swipe your tongue over a wet spot resting just over the tip of his cock.
“Your sweet cunt tastes like she’s been neglected… Have you been neglected Sergeant?” Almost mocking, you can’t begin to challenge him. Right away your nodding your head, flexing your thighs and crossing your ankles to attempt some small relief of pressure.
“König - I -” You’re fumbling for the right words when he chuckles lowly, bending just far enough to place his palms on across your thighs and squeeze just a little.
Meeting your forehead with his own, you’re right back to where you always felt with him. Safe and like he somehow understood everything about you without ever asking. Unique to König, he could always tell when something was wrong or you just weren’t quite on your game for some reason or another. You always thought it’s what made you such a good pair. And if you had to admit it, you’d have thought you knew just about everything about him too; But now after this, there’s a question lingering if all of his sweetness was just out of friendship, or something much more significant swirling around behind that shroud of a mask. Either way, you wanted to find out more. Get closer and explore the Colonel in a way you’d never believed possible.
“If you want this… me,” Just above a mere whisper, he paused to look between the small gap withholding you from him. “I need you to say so, meine perle.” Hearing your longstanding pet name in this connotation felt so very different, yet so much more impactful than on just your feeling of standard closeness. Giving you the suspicion that König hadn’t just thought it was a simple throwaway nickname.
“Please, please. I want you.” Your answer feels confident. Specifically choosing to ask for him, and him alone.
König met your lips with heavy intention. Cradling your neck with one hand and leaning your weight back against the bed; All the while crawling overtop of you. You could barely taste your own tangy arousal on his tongue, fighting for the chance to take the other fully. While König did try to resist your little bites at his bottom lip and your fingers prying at his shirt, it didn’t take long for him to finally happily give up. Rolling onto his back and pulling you to straddle him. Helping you along with the subtle movement of your bare cunt against his clothed cock and the ridges of his zipper.
“Mm,” He pulled away from you far too soon, admiring you sitting atop him so delicately. Pink cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and a look in your eyes that made his whole body truly feel desired ****************and appreciated. Maybe even loved.
“Come here, meine perle. Let me give you everything you want.” Pulling your head down to meet his lips one last time, you sighed.
Sinking against him with so many fuzzy feelings of happiness and surreal recognitions of just how crazy this was. Of how one single change of your day had brought you to König’s room.
“Süßes Mädchen, ich will dich probieren..” It was the last coherent thing you could remember König saying as he effortlessly pulled your bare cunt closer to his face with an utterly wrecked look on his face and his tongue licking at his lips.
Hip flexors and thighs quivering, you could hardly keep your eyes focused on the Austrian below you. With your legs spread and framing his head and his hot palms cradling the entirely of your ass to keep you from squirming too much, König had spent the better part of half and hour with his tongue buried in your cunt. Snarling and growling like a hungry dog who’s chain had finally snapped. Between your almost totally fried nerves and the nudge of his thick nose rubbing against your clit while tongue-fucking your hole, you’d nearly pleaded and moaned yourself mute with a sore throat. ail scratches had been scraped into the drywall in front of you, and the strength in your legs had long faded into boneless mush that König hardly needed the endurance to hold steadily. The Colonel had been nothing but painfully patient and determined to give your more orgasms than your body could withstand.
You’d been ordered to count them, and it’d never been more challenging to count to four.
“Bitte meine Perle, komm, fick mein gesicht.” You never wanted to follow an order so badly. But fuck if you came again, you weren’t sure you’d ever resurface from the sensation. The previous had almost left you sitting full-weight on his face and blacked out in overwhelming pleasure. Mentally preparing wasn’t an option though. König wasn’t stopping for anything. Including your weak whimpers and whines that protested the command despite your desire to listen to him as closely as possible.
“C-can’t do it again-” Your voice cracks pathetically.
A loud crack of his palm smacking against the flesh of your ass releases a guttural moan from you. Spanking you firmly for the denial, and nipping at your swollen and abused little clit in punishment. You whine again, knowing your choice in the matter is being denied. König’s hunger for your release dripping out from the corners of his mouth motivates him to wrap his lips around your swollen bud and suck. Using the tip of his tongue to flick against the painfully sensitive end. That movement had brought you to release the first time, and it worked just as efficiently again to rip your pleasure out of your body right into the Colonel’s waiting mouth.
Your shaking and tears being to roll over your cheeks as König uses his own strength to help ride you through the aftershocks that cause your thighs to tremor and your stomach to flex and waver. The only somewhat meaningful things you’re able to do is use one hand to run your fingers through his hair and try to keep yourself grounded to the cot and König. By the time you feel sensation in your toes again, König has already gotten you settled back in his lap with his massive arms snaked around your bare body, holing you tight against his chest.
You feel slickness not just of your own between your thighs, looking up at the Colonel with a question tugging at your eyebrows. There was no mistaking that König had finished some time through your turn and he’d either been really good at hiding it, or you’d been totally inconsiderate of noticing.
“Schön, meine Perle. Das hast du so gut gemacht,” His wet lips press to your forehead reassuringly.
“Did perfectly, so good at following orders.” His hands cradle your flushed cheeks carefully.
Thumbs brushing over your cheekbones and sliding up until he can wipe the sheen of sweat clinging in the hair of your eyebrows. You look downright angelic to him like this. Raptured by nothing more than his own desire to give you everything he possibly could of his physical and emotional being. Giving himself the most intimate position to see just what he’d fantasized about for so long. You, being loved by him. Adored just for being yourself. Pleasured, because you deserved it.
“König… didn’t you..?” Your little pants and confused look made him smile, leaning forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.
He chuckled lowly against your mouth. “I did. Twice, actually.” He pecked the tip of your nose like a little praise for you.
You weren’t in any shape to fuss with the Austrian, however you did your best to put up a fight. “Let me… I wanna give you-”
“I’ve had just enough to satiate me for now,” His voice rasped a bit. “Besides, my men will be coming in for shift changes. And I don’t have enough faith in either of us to stay that quiet, meine perle.”
It was your turn to go shy and quiet, looking towards the shut -and locked- bedroom door, but forgetting that you weren’t the only two people in the area. Actually, thee was a good chance many of the men could’ve heard you making little to no effort to quiet yourself. One glance at the Colonel still holding you close to him, and you must’ve given him some sort of expression because he started laughing softly again.
“Kein Problem. Meine Männer reden nicht über uns.” You believed him.
But it was still a little intimidating. Now that it seemed everything was out it in the open, you had a lot of questions about what was going to happen, how things would work between you, or if there was even a possibility of somethingserious. The observant Colonel didn’t miss a single beat of your heart in that moment.
“Das bedeutet nicht, dass ich ihnen keinen Gesprächsstoff gebe, meine Perle,” His head nudged yours sweetly, despite his very flirty tone. “I’d like to keep you to myself. That is… if you’re okay with that?”
Nothing could stop the grin that spread onto your face.
“Ich liebe es, dein zu sein, mein König,” You wrapped you arms around his neck, kissing his ear softly. “Auch wenn du mein Höschen stiehlst.”
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the blueprint - cl16
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pairing: architect!charles leclerc x coworker!reader (fem) summary: in which you and your co-worker can't help but constantly butt-heads on projects warnings: 18+! SMUT! (obvi), kinda mean!Charles, squirting, language, some French (badly translated prob) word count: 4.1k author's note: hi I absolutely LOVED writing this. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. i didn’t proofread so if there’s any typos please let me know!!! xoxo!! please let me hear your thoughts!!!! don’t be shy
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YOU COULD’VE SWORN you’ve never been so irritated in your life. 
“Can’t you just, I don’t know, ferme ta guele for once!” Shut the fuck up. You stood in the door of Charles’s office, a crescendo of emotion echoed in your voice, almost reaching a fervent shout. Your face, now tinged with a reddish hue, reflected just how frustrated you were. 
For a little over a year, both you and Charles had been integral parts of the same company. You, an interior designer, who occasionally delved into architecture every blue moon for fun. You never got the degree for architecture, but you loved to sketch building ideas from time to time just for fun. And then there’s him, an architect, with a stick too far up his ass sometimes.
Anger painted Charles’s demeanor, evident from the subtle reddening in his ears and the clench of his jaw. With matching frustration, he strolled behind his desk, easing into his chair. His green eyes narrowed at you, a silent yet potent communication.
“Moi?” Me? His tone was incredulous at he pointed his own fingertips at him, tapping them directly into his sweater covered chest. “Porquoi tu ne le fais pas?” Why don’t you? His voice dropped lower at the end of his sentence, while he directed his fingers to now point at you. 
You took a step further into his office, not bothering to shut the door behind you. “Tu es incroyable!” You’re unbelievable! The sarcasm dripped off your tongue as you ran a hand through your hair, your chest slightly heaving up and down. 
To which, Charles only smirked at, ignoring your sarcasm, and responded with a cocky “J’ai beaucoup entende cela.” I’ve heard that a lot. 
The memory of the initial cause of the argument had become hazy but it was likely that it stemmed from the inherent clash that seemed inevitable whenever the two of you worked together on a project. The two of you were constantly perplexed by the company’s decision to consistently pair you two together, especially because it was not a secret that you didn’t get along. However, the undeniable reason might be rooted in the remarkable success followed. Almost every building, house, or structure designed by the both of you stood out as some of the company’s best creations.
Charles couldn’t help but trace his eyes along every crevice of your face while you ranted on. He honestly wasn’t even listening as you bitched on about something you claimed he did. Instead, he was too enraptured with the way your cheeks reddened, the way your eyes narrowed at him, and the way your breasts moved with every exclamation you made. Because really, he is still a man after all and the tight button up shirt you wore was almost sinister. Like seriously, he could’ve sworn the buttons were about to pop open with each breath you took.
“Mon dieu! Even now, you’re still not listening!” You noticed the distant look in Charles’s eyes as he leaned back into his chair. It was like he was looking at you, but not at you. 
You snapped your fingers repeatedly, leaning over the desk, your breasts even more in Charles’s face now. He swore it took everything in him to look at your face, and not your perky breasts dangling in front of him.
“What?”
You stormed out of his office immediately with a loud groan. You didn’t see him for the rest of the day.
-
“Mamma mia,” Oh my god. Charles exclaimed to no one except himself as he stood tall, his hands tapping the sides of the heavy machine before him. It felt like an eternity, although it had only been about 5 minutes. The matter at hand was perfecting the model of his latest project, but the 3-D printer seemed to be malfunctioning. 
Taking a step back, he began to stare at the machine as if it were his enemy, one hand rested on his hip. A million thoughts ran through his mind as to what could possibly be wrong with the machine. No matter how many times he tried, the layers seemed to be separating far too much, deeming each piece of his model printed earlier as garbage.
The fragrance of sandalwood, laced with a subtle sweetness of vanilla, announced your presence before he could even lay eyes on you. The warm and captivating scent enveloped him, much like it always did. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger in annoyance that he knew it was you without even having to turn around. Without turning his head, he spoke up, catching your attention abruptly.
“Sais-tu comment réparer cela?” Do you know how to fix this?
It was one of the rare occasions when he addressed you without any trace of hatred in his words.  Your mouth hung slack in surprise, and you almost felt the need to rub your eyes in disbelief at the fact there was no back-handed comment involved.
For a few moments, you just stared at the back of his head. Unable to understand why he was even asking for your help in the first place. When he got impatient of waiting for a response, he spun his body around, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and eyes pointed at you. 
“Hm?” Snapping out of your surprise, you urged him to continue, seeking clarification on what he was referring to. Charles couldn’t help but take note of the tight black jumpsuit that you wore, a black and gold belt cinched at your waist. He felt his heart pound in his chest just a little bit more than normal at the accentuation of your curves as you stepped in front of him, acknowledging the curve of your ass before him.
“It, uh..” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed away his thoughts of your ass. You turned to look at him, waiting for him to finish his words. His cheeks slightly tinted pink as he offers a sheepish smile to you, “it keeps separating the layers too much.”
You nodded your head slowly, “Je déteste quand ça fait ça.” I hate when it does that. You quietly agreed with him, before playing with some of the buttons on the machine. Without any luck of fixing it on your own, your eyes lit up like a light bulb as you remembered Josh, one of your other co-workers, solved this issue before.
“Let me get Josh!” You uttered the name with such excitement that Charles felt an involuntary growl building within him. Josh, a fellow architect at the firm, seemed uncomfortably close to you for Charles’s liking. Not that he cared or anything, but few things irked him more than witnessing you and Josh together in the office like two peas in a pod. The way Josh shamelessly flirted with you constantly only added to his irritation. Not that he liked you or anything, but that didn’t mean he hasn’t thought about shoving you face down over his desk and stuffing you full of his cock. Or that he hasn’t thought of you pressed against the windows of his office, your bare chest against the glass as he slips his cock into your wet folds. Or that he hasn’t thought about shoving his cock so deep into your throat just to get you to be quiet sometimes. 
It was like the flip of a switch, Charles’s irritation pouring out of him, as he spontaneously stomped away from the printing room. Trudging back to his office, leaving you behind in confusion. The last thing he wanted to see was you and Josh fixing something for him.
-
“She’s such a fucking know it all,” Charles groans to a group of his co-workers, bringing the neck of the beer bottle to his lips before taking a swig. His eyes have been following your every move since you stepped foot in the banquet hall tonight.
 It was the 42nd annual office party, which may sound boring at first, but it always ends up with some chaotic story. Last year it was Jane, one of the executive assistants, who got way too drunk she vomited right by the CEO’s feet. The year before that it was Nick, a man who is part of the custodial staff, who went almost too crazy on the dance floor that he knocked a handful of people down and resulted in multiple broken glasses around the place. All in all, the office party is usually the opposite of a bore.
And tonight, Charles decides that it’s definitely not a bore when he spots your outfit for the night. Charles doesn’t miss the curve of your ass as your back faces him, or the fact that Josh’s hand rests lightly against the small of your back either.
You’re dressed to kill tonight. A long silky black gown rests tightly against your skin, aside from the bottom that fans out much like a mermaid tail. The neckline wraps around your neck much like a scarf, a long tail of it falling at your side. 
Charles was so focused on Josh’s hand on you, that he didn’t even hear his co-workers speaking to him until they shoved his shoulder lightly.
“Dude, do you like her or something?”
“Or something.” Charles said with such disgust and hatred laced in his voice. “I don’t know why I always have to get paired with her.” He finished his beer in a hasty speed as you head towards the bar, excusing himself from his friends as he made his way to the same area.
The grip he had on the neck of the empty bottle was so tight, it was close to breaking in the palm of his hand. He leans against the bar, staring straight ahead as he waits for the bartender to acknowledge him.
“What’s got you all wound up?” Sandalwood and Vanilla.
He turns his head, to you and a smiling Josh at your side. He wants to roll his eyes almost immediately. What he would give to be able to punch him right in the face for even being able to touch you. He doesn’t bother to respond to you, turning his head back to the bar.
He’s sick in the head, honestly. He knows he approached the bar only to be closer to you but then ignores you as soon as you’re near. To get some glimpse of you. To smell you. To hear your voice. 
You hate the rejection. No matter how much he grinds your gears, you always try to be polite. You don’t want to argue with him. It’s honestly exhausting to stay arguing with him almost every day. On your first day of work, you actually thought you could be friends, until he opened his mouth and rudely dismissed you. It only made you work harder.
Charles got his drink and made his way back to his group of ‘friends’. He didn’t look at you the rest of the night.
At least until you both crossed paths outside the venue. Josh had left earlier in the night due to not feeling well, leaving you alone, with no jacket, as you tried to call for a ride home. 
Charles’s hands were shoved in the pockets of his dress pants as he approached you, awaiting for the valet to pull his car around. “Where is your jacket?” He questioned, simply curious.
“Why do you care?” You remarked back, a hint of annoyance in your voice. “You ignored me earlier and now you want to talk to me?” 
Charles felt his patience wearing thin, especially at the sight of the goosebumps all over your skin and the chatter of your teeth between each word you spoke. Your nipples were rock hard, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Charles. He felt the blood rush to his cock as his eyes quickly glanced at them. 
He rolled his eyes before shoving his suit jacket off and tossing it over your shoulders. “Can’t have my partner getting sick.” He began, “The project is due too soon for you to call out.” He pulled the excuse out of his ass. Because really, how was he supposed to say that he cared? That he cared about the woman he’s an absolute dick too.
You wanted to argue, he could see the detest in your eyes, but you snuggled into the jacket anyways. Appreciating his gesture and the warmth of the jacket.
The valet pulled his car up, opening the door for Charles, to which Charles handed him a crisp bill for fetching the car for him. You stood on the sidewalk, Charles’s jacket swallowing your body whole, a small breeze blowing the front pieces of your hair off your face. You looked beautiful, and Charles’s knew it was a complete lie if he said other.
“Get in,” He motioned the passenger door open, not bothering to wait for your response before he grasped your small forearm and ushering you into the seat. The car smelt just like him. A smell you wanted to bury yourself in, regardless how annoying he was.
Charles wove through the streets at a leisurely pace, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his knee. The radio volume was low, playing a song you couldn’t remember the name of, as you stared out the window and directed Charles to your home.
He wanted to argue that he knows where it is. That he’s already been there before because one time he went to check on you because you didn’t show up to work without calling in (which was very abnormal). That it’s the building right next to his. But he doesn’t say it and just lets you direct him anyways, just so he can hear your voice a little more. He was greedy when it came to you.
Within a few minutes, he pulled in front of your building, placing the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. You sat silently after unbuckling your own seatbelt, trying to decipher his mood. You never knew what mood you were going to get, but most of the time it was annoyance and anger.
You turned to look at him and your eyes instantly met with his, as he was already looking at you. “Merci.” Your words were soft as you spoke, reaching for the door handle, he stopped you.
“You should dress warmer,” His lips lifted into a small grin, “It’s too cold and I can’t handle this project without you.”
Although it was work related, it was probably the closest compliment you’ve ever received from him. If you wanted to count it as a compliment. You felt your cheeks turn pink at his confession. Who are you? You don’t blush at Charles Leclerc. The architect with a stick up his ass. The guy who grates your every nerve. The guy who is undeniably hot and smells so good, you think about it more often than you want to admit.
“I’ll remember that.” Your hand goes to reach for the car door handle, but he stops you. His muscular arm stretches across your lap, grabbing the door and holding it in place from opening. He’s now practically stretched across the small space of the car, his scent enveloping you, the warmth of his body heating you right up. A small smirk formed on Charles lips as he noticed how flustered you were getting towards his proximity.
“Are you and Josh dating?” It was a simple question, but the words felt like acid on his tongue. You couldn’t help but notice the displeased look on his face as he straightens his body, providing more space between the two of you.
Your eyes widened in shock before muttering a quick, “No!” You coughed slightly, almost choking on your shock. 
“Bien.” Good.  Was all he said, before unlocking the doors, giving you the go ahead to get out of the car. It was when you were about three steps from the car door that he rolled down the window and said, “You can return the jacket at work.”
-
It’s today, that Charles decides he has had it up to here. If he must witness Josh’s fingers graze your skin one more time, he swears he will combust. So, to make himself feel some relief of his anger, he starts a fight with you. Naturally.
“It’s a shitty plan and even you know it!” 
Honestly, it is a shit plan. And Charles knows that it’s a shit one too, but he would never admit that to you. Not when he is this pent up over fucking Josh. Not when it gives him an excuse to spend more time with you.
Which is what led you into his office, the clock nearing midnight, as you both are sprawled (as much as you can be) around his desk. The current plans of the project are scattered everywhere and not one other person, beside the both of you, are within the offices floor.
Your hair had made its way into a clip, leaving your neck uncovered and exposed. Charles’s found himself often staring at the nape of your neck when you weren’t looking. His desire to litter marks all over it was growing with each second that he spent in your proximity. Sandalwood and Vanilla.
“Is there a reason you’re always so mean to me?”
The words caught him completely off guard as he lifted his pencil, leaning back in his chair to face you more. You looked beautiful, like always. He could feel the burn in his chest as the words left your lips.
He was silent for a moment. Contemplating if he’s supposed to tell you that he’s mean to you because he doesn’t know how to act around you. That he’s mean to you because he wants to fuck you so badly, it consumes his every thought. That he’s mean to you because you are mean to him too.
“You’re not innocent either,” He remarks. His eyes shifting back to the drawing in front of him. Honestly, the plans weren’t looking much better but you both refused to give up.
You nodded your head slowly in agreement. You couldn’t deny that sometimes you were snippier towards him for no reason. It probably had to do with the fact that almost every week since you met, you’ve had to use your vibrator to the thought of him to ease the burn in your stomach just enough to get through the day.
You both didn’t know what it was about each other. You got under each other’s skin like no other.
And it wasn’t until he brought his eyes back to you, green meeting yours, that he noticed the dilation in your pupils. He could no longer pretend that he didn’t want you. It was killing him.
His hand grasps the back of your neck in a tight grip, asserting his dominance, as he pulls you into him. Your lips smashing into each other. He wasted no time before slipping his tongue directly into your mouth, moaning in the process as you let him in with such ease.
Your taut nipples poked through fabric of your bralette underneath the silk top you wore. Charles kept one hand on the back of your neck, pressing you into him, while the other slipped into the buttoned shirt, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
He groaned hotly into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of your breast, something he’s always wanted to do.
You crawled your way into his lap, the short skirt riding up your waist as you straddled his lap in the desk chair. You grinded against his thigh, moaning into his mouth. He swallowed every moan you gave, his hands eventually sliding down to your hips and guiding your movement.
“You drive me fucking crazy, chérie.” He spoke the words in between kisses, the sentence sounding broken as your tongue swirled around his.
“Are we really doing this?” You pulled away, unable to stop the motion of your hips as you stared at him. His hair was in complete disarray, lips swollen from kissing you so hard, and his eyes were half-shut like he was drunk off of your kisses.
He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he places his hands onto the backside of your thighs and lifted you as he came to a stance, placing you directly on the edge of his desk before him.
You both were frantic, ripping off each other’s clothes as fast as you could in between the wet, hot open-mouthed kisses. It wasn’t long before you were almost completely nude, aside from the mini skirt bunched above your waist, and sprawled along his desk with his hard cock stretching the velvet walls of your pussy with a delicious burn. His thumb pressed tiny but firm circles on your swollen clit, leaving you delusional on his desk.
His lips trailed all over your body. They moved from the spot right below your ear, to the underside of your jaw, up to the corner of your mouth.
“Feel so fucking good, chérie.” He groaned. His hips moving at a fervent pace, you don’t think you would last much longer, especially with his hot words whispered into the shell of your ear.
He pulled away from you for a moment, just to stare at how fucked you were. Your hair was no longer in a clip, seeing as he pulled it out of your hair and tossed it across his office just mere minutes ago. Your cheeks and chest were flushed, and the bounce of your tits almost had him cumming on the spot.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” He confesses. The words jumbling off his lips as he ruts against you, the large wooden desk pushing forward with each powerful thrust of his hips into you. The office walls echoed your moans, you were practically screaming in pleasure for the entire world to hear.
You nodded your head repeatedly, unable to form the words, too drunk off the feeling of his cock pressing against the very spot that ached the most for him. Because you too, wanted this for so long.
“Yeah?” He smugly asks. “You wanted this too?” He slows his hips down, but it doesn’t lessen the effect of just how good his cock feels against you. Your walls are clamped around him tightly, not wanting to let him go.
“Mhm,” you groaned. “Needed this so bad….needed you” You words were almost incoherent as he spits directly onto your clit, his thumb now speeding up the little circles he’s been doing all this time.
He had to pinch his eyes shut at the confession, almost sending him to release his cum right into you. “Mon dieu,” His voice grumbles, reverberating in his chest as he leans over your body on the desk, trailing his tongue and sucking on your nipple.
“I’m gonna,” you begin. “fuck, fuck,” It takes a few seconds of Charles sucking on your nipple before the burn deep in your stomach completely takes over, sending your legs spasming around his waist. Your orgasm was explosive and wet. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced this before as you squeeze around Charles’s cock so tightly, he feels like he can barely move his cock. 
“Fucking, mmm,” He can barely get full sentences out as you squirt all over his cock and onto the papers of his desk. “That’s a good girl,” He stands up tall, watching you thrash around on his desk, and the now soaked plans beneath your body.
“Doing so good for me.”
“Feels so fucking good”
“So fucking beautiful”
“Does my cock feel as good as you feel to me?” 
With a few more mumbled phrases spewing out of Charles’s lips, his own orgasm hits him, as he pulls out quickly, his hot cum landing directly across your stomach in a gooey string.
You both were panting, unable to form words as he collapses his chest down onto you. The ability to stand lost on him as his pants rest at his ankles. Your chests move in sync as you catch your breaths, Charles’s cum pressed to both of your skin.
“Looks like we need to re-do the plans again.” Charles jokes which quickly earns a soft chuckle from your lips in response.
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lincolndjarin · 3 months
Text
Every Now and Then - ch. one
[ I Dream of Something Wild ]
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pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader
word count : 6.4k
summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.
tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!
a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters
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ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi
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He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary. 
And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.
He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark. 
So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.
You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him. 
But you can’t.
So you don’t. 
It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.    
Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.  
Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away. 
Until he himself makes it impossible.
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Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019
“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”
That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle. 
A couple weeks without working is a death sentence. 
If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from. 
Lose your leg or starve. 
As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful. 
So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge. 
You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable. 
So there’s only one other option for you. 
You steal. 
You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk. 
The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching. 
By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day. 
You need more. 
You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea. 
Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal. 
The only problem is your neighbors reputation. 
You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time. 
But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty. 
So you’d have to be careful. 
He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area. 
You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings. 
Lucky you. 
Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process. 
“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor. 
A revolver. 
You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window? 
You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear. 
“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness. 
You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way. 
“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you. 
No one would look for you. 
The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner. 
“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all. 
He isn’t a terrible last sight. 
Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.
“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.” 
Maybe he’s right. 
Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you. 
You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes. 
It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.
So you close your eyes.
Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed. 
You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch. 
You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.
Shit. 
You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all. 
“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.
“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all. 
Fuck. 
It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh. 
“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively. 
“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.
“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?” 
“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself. 
“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?” 
A lot. 
More than you’d have even if you were working overtime. 
He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. 
His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you. 
“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising. 
“I can’t afford it-”
“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.” 
You told him you’d think about it. 
And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.
So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help. 
And just like that, it was your idea. 
It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after. 
You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did. 
But he wanted nothing of the sort. 
Southern Manners.
All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning. 
But you still don’t relax around him.
It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before. 
He must like having someone to take care of. 
That’s how you explain it to yourself. 
You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you. 
It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was. 
After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.
But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that. 
And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was. 
So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already. 
He had acted unsure. 
You know now that it was acting. 
So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him. 
It was your idea. 
Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.
You had insisted he get in the bed with you. 
A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come. 
He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning. 
So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment. 
It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet. 
It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his. 
It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed. 
And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them. 
Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg. 
You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing. 
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Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023
“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs. 
Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.
“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.
“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend. 
You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go. 
You have nothing planned on Sunday.
You’ll have to change that. 
You hate having nothing to do.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them. 
“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. 
You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister. 
“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other. 
A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one. 
One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down. 
“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall. 
You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it. 
Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about. 
You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules. 
You keep Jackson moving. 
When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms. 
Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.
No surprises. 
You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)
One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule. 
“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.
“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans. 
“Maria gets to go on patrol.” 
“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls. 
Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two. 
“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins. 
“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you. 
“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work. 
“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son. 
“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work. 
“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing. 
“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists. 
“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.” 
“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.” 
You’re thankful for Tommy.
He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.
“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated. 
“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother. 
“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone. 
You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs. 
And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to. 
(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.) 
You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks. 
It’s all exactly how it should be. 
Until she frowns. 
“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol. 
“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow. 
“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.” 
Odd. 
Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.
“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.
It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent. 
It’s a look of pity. 
As if she feels bad for even asking. 
It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind. 
“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one. 
“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed. 
“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different. 
“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy. 
“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light. 
God, you're tired. 
You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday. 
You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment. 
You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams. 
It works.
Your dreams never feature him. 
They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.
The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays. 
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support me on kofi!!
a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!
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luviemax · 4 months
Text
you are in love- oneshot
a/n: hi pals how r we doing today... my rent is due (metaphorically) inspo from mother's song
masterlist
-> charles leclerc x childhoodbestfriendfemale!reader (no physical description)
warnings: small teensy tiny age gap (like two years), probs some cursing, google translated french.... not proofread :(
word count: 1283 words
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He can't remember the first time he met you.
Not exactly. He does know how it happens, though, as his mother constantly likes to constantly remind him.
"You were two," Pascale muses, cutting into the pancakes she was having for breakfast.
"Maman." Charles pleads with a tinge of exasperation in his voice, having heard this story so many times.
"Charles, don't interrupt me." she shoots him playful glare as Arthur smiles behind his cup of coffee that he's sipping. It's quite obvious that he finds this entire debacle quite entertaining.
"Yes Charles," Arthur nods in mocking agreement, "I quite like this story, maman." He shoots Charles a cunning smirk as the dimples in his cheeks begin to pop out.
"Yes, as I was saying," Pascale takes a moment to gather her thoughts, "Charlie, you were only 2... but you were so gentle with her..."
Pascale goes on and on, fawning about how he was so gentle with the little baby girl, the newborn baby of his godmother, and one of his mother's dearest friends. Your name felt foreign on his tongue when he was first introduced to it, like a new word added into his little dictionary, but it was a name that he would come to know, recognise, and even love.
"Maman, I'm leaving!" Charles announces to the house after breakfast, grabbing his car keys.
"Going to see Y/N?" Pascale playfully teases.
Charles smiles so hard at the thought of you that his dimples began to crease in his cheeks. "You know it."
He drives to your flat in mostly silence, besides the roar of the Ferrari's engine, and the dreadful drone of the radio hosts over the car's stereo. Traffic is slow and congested, which should be frustrating for someone who drives at over 300 km/h on a near weekly basis, but the reward at the end of the road (which happens to be you) makes it all the more worth it.
People seem to be suspicious of your relationship, though. But it's nothng more than what it is, a purely platonic bond between two childhood, contrary to what gossip accounts or news articles say. Some of his friends don't believe him either.
Carlos simply gives him an unbelieliving smile and quirks an eyebrow, but puts the matter to rest when Charles expresses his annoyance with a roll of his viridescent eyes.
Joris constantly bugs him about it. Taunts of: "Are you sure you don't like her Charlie?", "Charlie... are you texting her?" and "Charles, fess up! Just tell me the truth, you like her!"
Frankly, he's sick and tired of it. Even if he did like you, so what? Was that really anyone's business, either way? Nevertheless, any ounce of anger he was harbouring simply dissipates into nothingness when he sees you.
You grace him with a beautiful smile when you enter his car. You greet him with kisses on his cheek and a warm hug. Through all these years, he swears that the thing he looks most forward to when he sees you is your hugs.
They're warm, like walking into a bakery with freshly baked pastries. They make him happy like a Grand Prix win.
The two of you aimlessly drive around until it was time for dinner. He brings you to his favourite pizza place, and the two of you split a pepperoni pizza.
"Don't tell my trainer about this." Charles makes you promise with a boyish smile.
"I promise." You let out a chuckle at the trivial situation at hand. Within your company, the two of you don't really need to talk a lot. Wordlessly, after knowing each other for so long, the silence says enough by itself, and is enough to make the both of you comfortable. After finishing dinner, you follow him back to his apartment. He insists for you to stay over for the night, and you don't debate it.
"Here," Charles mindlessly passes you a shirt that he no longer wears, "for you to sleep in." he clarifies. You make a noncomittal sound and give him a brief nod in response.
After you've showered, you put on his shirt, and the first thing you notice is how it smells like him. His laundry, his cologne, his shampoo... You're a little overwhelmed, but in a good way. "You're not getting this shirt back." you warn him as you come out of the shower. "Fine by me." He laughs, passing by you as he enters the bathroom.
You make yourself comfortable in his bed. You slip under the blanket, which encompasses you in a warmth which couldn't possibly be recreated at your own house. It's funny how you still feel more at home at Charles' apartment than your own.
You're still in his bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media, when he comes out of the shower. "Okay, what're we watching?" he asks as he makes himself at home on the opposite side of the bed. The two of you mutually decided on watching Cars for the billionth time. Yet, from your peripheral vision, you notice him looking at you with a foreign expression. You fake a yawn, and turn off the TV.
"Good night, Charlie." "Good night, Y/N."
He switches off the lights in his bedroom, and you make yourself comfortable.
"Y/N?" "Yes Charlie?" "You're my best friend." The statement makes you smile, and you fall asleep with a wide grin on your face.
The next morning, you wake up, and you're somehow entangled with Charles. Your legs are intertwined, his arms are carressing your waist, and your face is burried in his neck. You simply wiggle into his touch, and it makes him stir.
"Good morning." He whispers, voice raspy from sleep. "Morning." You chastely reply, voice muffled from speaking into his neck.
Much to your dismay, he untangles himself from the mess of cuddles and bedsheets. He leaves the bedroom, leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead as you fall back into the lull of sleep.
You wake up to the scent of something burning. The charred scent lingers in the air, presumably from the kitchen, so that's where you go.
"Mon coeur," my heart he croons, sheepish expression on his face, "I'm sorry. I was trying to make breakfast." He helplessly gestures at the burnt toast, which was now in the bin.
You give him a laugh. It makes his cheeks flush. He wishes that he could bottle up your laugh, keep it in a safe, and just listen to it whenever he pleased. He swears that your laugh is more beautiful than the melody of Clair de Lune, or the roar of the Tifosi during a Monza win.
"Come dance with me." Charles gives you a silly smile. "What?" You respond, furrowed eyebrows emphasising your perplextion. "C'mon!" He urges, putting classical music record onto the vinyl player.
Just then, as the two of you are dancing in his living room bright and early in the morning, he knows that he's in love with you.
He knows when you're dancing and you're smiling and you're laughing and Charles could swear that you're the most perfect thing to ever exist.
You commit the most heinous of crimes and he swears that he could defend you to the Earth and back.
He holds you in his arms, and he kisses you.
It takes you aback, just for a moment.
Then again, his lips feel perfect against yours. It's like they were made for you.
Then your lips part, and he rests his forehead against yours.
He chuckles, and he speaks against your lips, "You're mine, yeah?"
You nod, "I've always been yours."
"Damn it, I owe Joris 50 Euros." He laughs.
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sinnersweets · 2 months
Text
DogDay x Reader part 12
<-----part 11, part 13----->
A/N: Woo new part!!
The last three months have been busy for me. First with Christmas and New Years, then applying to Playtime to adopt, which got approved thankfully. So then I needed to attend an agency sponsored orientation session and once that finished, I needed to get ready for the home interview.  
--------------- 
It was the weekend and DogDay said I could take a few days off to get everything ready for the social worker. I had moved out of my apartment and bought a house. New year new home you know? I asked Sarah if she could help me unpack and she said yes. I was currently unboxing some stuff when my phone started ringing. 
“Unknown number?” Is what I saw on my phone. I answered the phone and said, “Hello?” “Hi Angel!” DogDay?! Where the hell did he get a phone from? “DogDay?” “The one and only Angel.” I smiled and said, “This is a surprise, when did you get a phone?” DogDay laughed on the phone. “Oh no I don’t have one, but you just got one in your office!” “Oh? I didn’t know I was getting a phone.” I went over to the living room and sat down on the one chair I brought with me.  
“Mhm which now means we can talk when you’re not here Angel! Isn’t that great?” “It is!” “So what is my lovely Angel up to now?” I playfully rolled my eyes and said, “I’m just unpacking some stuff that I brought over. I’m waiting for the moving company to bring over the rest of the stuff and the new stuff that I bought. Sarah is gonna come over and help later.” “I still can’t believe you’re gonna adopt Damian Angel.” “Haha what do you mean? You’re the one who told me to remember?” It sounded like DogDay was moving around my office. “I remember Angel. Hey! You didn’t tell me you had my letter laminated.”  
I thought for a moment before remembering what letter it was.  “Oh yeah, haha. I really loved it.” I looked over to my wall and the only picture I had hanging now was the one DogDay gave me for Valentine's Day. The original one was also laminated but it was here with me. The one in my office was a copy I made. “You should sing me my letter some time.” “Oh yeah? Well Angel, my voice isn’t as good as yours, but I’ll do my best. I’ll sing it to you when you come back.”  
The sound of the doorbell spooked me a little. I got up from the chair and looked the peep whole and saw that it was the movers. “I’ll hold you too that love. Hey the movers are here so I’ll call you back later.” “Poo. Alright Angel, I love you~” “I love you too~ mwah! Bye bye.” “Bye bye.” I unlocked the door and put my phone in my pocket. “Hi, sorry I was on the phone.” “Not a problem at all ma’am. If you can tell me which rooms are which so that we can put the boxes in the right room for you.” I nodded and stepped out of the way to let- I looked at his nametag quickly before he walked past me- Adam. That was his name. I moved so that Adam could come in.  
He looked around and I led him to the first room but my picture on the wall caught his attention. “Oh hey, what was his name again? Day-Day? No um DoggyDay? Oh! DogDay! My kids love him. He your husband?” I think my neck popped with how fast I turned to look at him. “Huh?! N-no he’s just my boyfriend.” Adam nodded and said, “Oh, apologize. I thought he was since people these days can now marry almost anything now.” I had forgotten about that law. It just started this year that anyone can marry anything, be it robots, or other characters from different stuff. I don’t think me and DogDay could get married though. He’s owned by Playtime. Just then an idea popped in my head.  
--------------- 
Once I showed Adam around, he and his team brought in everything and placed them in the rooms that they were meant to go in. Not long after Sarah came by and helped unboxing some stuff. After a few hours we decided to go have lunch. It was a nice day outside, so we had lunch outside the restaurant.  
“Thank you again for helping me Sarah.” I said before sipping on my tea. “No prob. Not like I had anything else to do.” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. “You seem a little down, what’s wrong?” Sarah just chewed on her salad for a good two minutes before swallowing and said, “It’s my kid. She like has asthma and her inhaler ran out yesterday but like I can’t get her a new one because my stupid insurance doesn’t want to like cover for it and just for one inhaler is like $600!”  
I was shocked. I had no idea that Sarah had a kid. “How old is she if you don’t mind me asking.” Another long pause from Sarah. She put her head down while saying, “She’s four years old, almost five.” Damn. I felt bad for Sarah. I was going to say something to her, but she spoke out first. “And don’t like ask me if my parents will like help me because they won’t. They cut ties with me once they like found out that their little fifteen-year-old was pregnant.” I saw tears stroll down her cheek. I handed her a napkin and she took it and wiped her eyes.   
We didn’t say anything else after. Once we finished, I told her I needed to run into the gas station quickly to get something and she said she’d wait outside for me. In a few minutes I came back out and handed her an envelope. “Here.” Sarah stared at it before taking it and opening it up. Her eyes widened and before she said anything I put a hand up and said, “Take it. There’s a little extra in there in case you need anything else.” She had tears in her eyes and without a warning she hugged me. “Thank you, Y/N. You really are an angel.”  
--------------- 
It was now naptime at Playcare which meant there would be no interruptions between me and DogDay. We were both laying down on his bed. My back was to his chest and his arms were wrapped around my waist. “Ready for your song Angel?” “Mhm.” DogDay pulled me in closer to his chest. “It’s just like heaven; being here with you. You’re like an Angel; too good to be true. But after all, I love you, I do. Angel baby. My Angel baby~ When you are near me; my heart skips a beat. I can hardly stand on my own two feet. Because I love you, I love you, I do. Angel baby. My Angel baby~ Wooo who, I love you. Whoo, I do. No one could love you. Like, I do.”  
As he sang out the rest of the letter, I closed my eyes and pictured what life would look like if DogDay and I were together outside of here. I then felt DogDay take off my headband and place a kiss on top of my head. “Did you enjoy my singing Angel?” I wiggled around and turned towards DogDay. “I loved it. You have quite the singing voice.” I leaned in and kissed him, and he returned the kiss back, pulling me closer to him.  
My phone started ringing killing the moment. I pulled away and looked at my phone and immediately groaned. “Let me guess, it’s your mom, right?” “Yep.” DogDay sighed and said, “She always ruins everything.” I laughed at how he said that. I answered the phone. “Hey m-” “Young lady how dare you not tell me that I’d get a call from a social worker asking me questions about you!” DogDay held back a laugh as I made a face. “Mom, I told you that- ah!” I was caught off guard as DogDay moved me onto his torso. My face felt a little flushed as I was now on top of him sitting up. DogDay had this look in his eyes, like he was about to do something. “Hello? Y/N?” “Sorry mom I uh, tripped.” My mom sighed and said, “This is why you’re always hurting yourself, you’re so clumsy. How are you going to raise a child?” Rude. “Listen mom if they didn’t think I could raise Damian then they wouldn’t have made me go through everything that I’ve done already. I have to home inspection coming up and-”  
I stopped talking as DogDay grabbed onto my waist and with his fingers he raised up my shirt a little bit. My heart started beating faster, and I knew by now I was blushing. DogDay had a grin on his face. “As I was saying mom, I um have the home um thing soon and I know that umm..wait nonono hahaha!” DogDay started tickling me. “Hahaha wait no waiit hahahah” “Y/N? What on earth is wrong with you?” “Hahaha stop please! Mom I- haha have to call you b-back haha!” As I hanged up the phone DogDay said, “You’re not escaping me Angel~”  
Five minutes he tickled me. Only five minutes and it felt like an eternity. DogDay moved his paws away and leaned up against the wall. I laid against his chest, trying to catch my breath from all the laughing I did. “My my Angel. I’d thought I’d have you breathing like that from another activity~.” He winked at me and I almost choked on my spit. “Wha huh??!!” “Just kidding.” 
A/N: Be honest, you thought something else was going to happen >:p
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hugshughes · 5 months
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invisible string L. Hughes
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Luke Hughes x fem!reader
synopsis - Luke had been one of your closest friends since childhood. Somehow, everything in both of your lives just came back to each other.
wc - 3.8k
contains - cursing, literally nothing, extremeeeeeeeee fluff, kissing, hugging, cuddling, (im just a girl ok), obliviousness, this is a bittttt cliche... THEY CONFESS AND KISS IN THE RAIN OK???? idiots in love, eating and drinking. TAKES PLACE SUMMER 2023 (like end of May???)
an - SLIGHTLY EDITED!!! im hunrgy. anyways THIS WAS SO FCUKINF CUTE TO WRITEEEEEEE. my luke baby is so invisible string😇😇😇😇. ugh i miss him. i (possibly intoxicatedly) karaoked better man by Taylor Swift the other night just fyi. my author notes are like my personal diary because i assume no one reads them. i could prob say my ss number and full name address and no one would ever know. do u guys know how fuckign embarrassing it is to reread a fic u posted a few days ago and find typos like u guys probably think im stupid and hate me now. this was not at all about Luke Hughes or Invisible String... ENJOY BABIES!!!!
-
green was the color of the grass, where i used to read in centennial park. i used to think i would meet somebody there.
You were what some would call a hopeless romantic. You loved love. You loved reading it, watching it, seeing it in real life, it was just beautiful to you.
You'd grown up with the Hughes boys. They were your neighbors during the summer, your family's lake house being next to theirs. You were the same age as their youngest son, Luke. You two were ride or dies during the summer, and when you finally got a phone in seventh grade, you two texted the rest of the year.
It was finally summer, your school year at Notre Dame had come to a close and you were able to fly home and go to the lake with your family all by May 13th. You watched the final Canes games against the boys, you were sad for them, but so proud of your best friend.
It was nearing June, and you were alone in the lake house, opting out of the afternoon boat ride for some peace and quiet. You walked through the halls, stopping at the dresser covered in summer photos. You and your brother, you and Luke, more you and Luke, and some of your brother and the Hughes.
teal was the color of your shirt, when you were sixteen at the yogurt shop. you used to work at to make a little money.
You noticed one of your favorite photos wasn't there, the one of you and Luke when you were about 16, you're both standing behind the counter at the ice cream place you two worked at during that summer. You spent all day with Luke during those days, and it was the best.
You opened the dresser the photos sat on, seeing more photos. The ice cream shop one, and one you weren't anticipating. You didn't know your mom had printed and framed it. It was you and Luke the summer you were 18, both smiling at the camera with the sunset in the background as you sat on his lap in an Adirondack chair in the backyard of the Hughes' house.
The photo gave you crazy butterflies. That summer was the last time you saw Luke during the summer. Last summer you two were both at the lake at different times, you'd seen his whole family, minus him. His mom told you how he was still with his college teammates on a different Michigan lake. You had to act like you didn't really care, even though you did, so much.
Since the picture was just sitting in the dresser, not on display, you decided to take it to your room. You placed it gently on your bedside table, smiling then leaving to go down to the pool.
time, curious time. gave me no compasses, gave me no signs.
It was weird how you and Luke always seemed to be pulled together. There was some driving force between you two that was unbreakable, not even if you wanted it to. When it wasn't the summer, you lived three hours from the Hughes family, so randomly bumping into Luke was even more bizarre than anything else.
You remember when you were 15, you and your mom were picking up dinner one night at a local place and in walks Luke, Jack, and Ellen. You squealed when you saw him, running over to say hey. The boys had been in town for hockey, weirdly enough.
Interactions like that happened way more often than normal, you randomly bumped into the boy at least once every two or three months for years.
were there clues i didn't see? and isn't it just so pretty to think,
You remember when you were surprised by Luke at age 17. He came and surprised you as your prom date and you were floored. He had flowers and a corsage for you, and his tie matched your dress perfectly. Your moms thought it was the cutest thing ever, how you both blushed and giggled when near each other.
all along there was some invisible string, tying you to me?
Even though you two couldn't seem to get away from each other, neither of you ever made a move romantically. It just didn't seem realistic, you already lived hours away from each other and were going to colleges even farther, well Luke was going to the NHL but you get the point.
You guys were just best friends, always best friends. Your families knew, especially his brothers. They were your biggest fans, probably because they saw how you made their baby brother, how soft he was with you. You made him gentle, but also made him more comfortable and talkative, which Quinn and Jack loved.
ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Luke made you weak, and your family noticed. You could jokingly bicker with him, but when it came down to real disagreement, you never could with Luke. He just gave you those deep hazel eyes and you were melted on the floor. He was just that person for you. The one who could ask you to do anything under the sun and you'd do it for his praise.
You spent long nights with Luke, sitting in the backyard of one of your lake houses and watching the moon and stars and talking about anything. You could listen to Luke talk about property tax for hours and probably never get bored, that's how much you admired him.
bad was the blood of the song in the cab, on your first trip to L.A. you ate at my favorite spot for dinner.
You remember the weirdest instance of your bumping into each other, you were in Los Angeles with friends during the very beginning of winter break and saw Luke eating in the same restaurant as you with a couple of his friends.
You texted him, not believing what you were seeing. You asked him if he was in L.A. When he responded 'Yes just for a few days why' you were shocked. You stood and made your way across the noisy restaurant and went up to his table, where you put your hand on his shoulder and when he turned around, he was the most surprised he'd been in a long time.
You remember he jumped up, hugging you so tightly, pulling away with his jaw still dropped. You guys always told each other you had to stop meeting 'like this', but it never seemed to stop.
The next day, you two planned to branch out from your friends and meet up for lunch. You guys drove a little ways from Los Angeles, east into the country, and ate at the cutest restaurant that had a view of a lake. You two always found yourselves together by lakes.
bold was the waitress on our three year trip, getting lunches down by the lake. she said i looked like an american singer.
You remember how bold your waitress was at that restaurant, immediately boasting about how she thought you two were the cutest couple she'd ever seen. Your face was burning hot, trying not to have a breakdown in the middle of the restaurant. It got even worse when Luke didn't correct her and just said 'Thank you', instead.
That was the last time you saw Luke, you were hoping to see him very soon, though. It had been almost two weeks since the loss to the Canes, so it made sense for the boys to be arriving soon. You'd already seen Ellen and Jim a couple of nights on the back porch with your parents, but no 6'2 boys named Luke were to be seen.
time, mystical time. cutting me open then healing me fine. were there clues i didn't see?
You'd had two boyfriends in your life. One in your 8th-grade year and freshman year of high school, then one in your junior year of high school. You'd broken up with boyfriend #2 because you realized you compared him to Luke, every move he made, you compared to Luke. It made you feel terrible, but you were head over heels for another boy.
You and Luke had your senior sunrises on the same day during your senior years, and decided to skip them and drive to the lake to watch the sunrise together. Your moms were furious, but it was one of the best memories you had with him.
Your interest in each other was so painfully obvious that most of your and his family referred to you as his girl during the summer. 'Where's Luke's girl?', or 'We're just waiting for Moose's girl.' It was never when you two were in the same room, so your reactions were always priceless.
and isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string, tying you to me?
Your family was back from their afternoon boating escapade and you could hear them all bustling in. The second they walked in you heard your brother shout for you.
"Moosey's girl! Come down here!"
ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
You blushed madly, getting up from your bed and walking down the stairs with an annoyed look on your face. When you got to the bottom of the stairs you could see your sister-in-law slapping your brother across the back of his head, telling him to leave you alone.
"What do you want?"
You immediately went from annoyed to overjoyed when your almost two year old niece ran over to you, shouting out your name. You picked her up, giving her a kiss on her tubby cheek, embracing her sandy and salt water ridden love.
"We're going out to dinner in like, an hour and a half? Honestly just whenever we can get that little monster bathed and dressed."
You nodded but immediately jumped to defend your little best friend.
"This thing? This baby is an angel, aren't you?"
The little girl nodded, a sassy smile on her face as she tried to say 'angel, dada.' in her slurred toddler speech.
"See?"
Your brother gave you both a look, before springing into action to grab his baby, tickling all the giggles and sqeals out of her.
You talked and played for a little longer before getting ready to go. You quickly showered and dried your hair, putting on a little linen white summer dress, and your old pair of Birkenstocks. You drove with your brother and sister-in-law on the way to dinner, sitting next to your niece in the backseat.
a string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar.
You guys were seated immediately at the restaurant, you sat between your sister-in-law and dad at the table, just close enough to talk to your favorite niece.
The restaurant was a popular spot for locals and tourists near the lake. It had a big bar in the middle and lots of tables surrounding, it was loud, but not obnoxious, and very homey. You'd probably been there over a hundred times in your life.
You were watching a random golf tournament on one of the many TVs in the bar when your brother called out your name. You looked up and the look on his face was excitement and shock.
"Look who happened to show up!"
something wrapped up all of my past mistakes, in barbed wire. chains around my demons. wool to brave the seasons.
He pointed behind him, and your eyes followed the trail to the entrance, where you saw none other than Luke Hughes standing with his family, waiting to be seated. Your jaw dropped, and a smile came over you. You saw Quinn hit Luke and then point directly at you, and when your eyes met Luke's, you could've fainted. He was in khakis and a white polo and looked so handsome.
You stood up, mumbling something to your family before practically running over to the entrance, throwing your arms around Luke.
one single thread of gold tied me to you.
"Holy shit."
Luke had his arms wrapped around you so tightly, he was so surprised to see you. He knew he would have seen you tomorrow if not tonight but he still just missed you and was shocked.
"We have gotta stop meeting like this."
You giggled when you pulled away from him, as reluctant as you were on the inside. You quickly hugged the rest of his family, not without Jack whispering, 'hey Moose's girl' to you.
You pleaded with the bar staff to push more tables together so you could sit with the Hughes, and it didn't take much convincing, seeing they'd known you since you were 6.
You sat next to Luke after the readjustment for the new tables, now sitting between him and your niece, who had all but thrown a fit about how she wanted to sit by you, not her dad, which made you laugh in his face.
At some point, you'd taken the baby from her high chair and brought her into your lap. You and Luke were both in your little world with her, she was so cute and loving. You guys didn't notice how practically the whole table stared at you with knowing eyes, they all knew, everyone except for you two.
The food came, and the baby was back in her seat. You just talked and talked and talked to Luke. You'd last seen him in December, and there was just so much to say. You'd both had tons of stuff happen to you, his NHL career, your career, everything was so exciting to tell him about.
Luke was so heavily infatuated with you, it was funny. His brothers watched as he folded for you so easily, admiring every syllable that left your mouth, nodding like a man possessed. They mumbled to each other, making fun of their baby brother's obliviousness.
cold was the steel of my axe to grind, for the boys who broke my heart. now i send their babies presents.
At some point, dinner got a little bit boring so you pulled out your phone, and what popped up was the baby registry you were buying something off of for your ex-boyfriend's pregnant wife. It was funny, how everything boiled down. Luke saw the infant clothing on your phone and gave you a questionable look.
"'S there something you're not telling me?"
You looked up at him, then back to your phone, your eyes going wide at the insinuation.
"Oh my God, Luke, no! This is for Darren's soon to be born baby, with his wife.
"Darren? Like your ex boyfriend Darren?"
You nodded, laughing and explaining the whole thing to him. You'd somehow become friends with his now wife in your freshman year of college, her junior year, and with the way the world worked for you of course she was married to your ex-boyfriend.
The rest of the night was perfect, and ended with your whole family, minus your sleeping niece, in the Hughes' backyard around the fire pit. That night you ended up right back where you were in the picture on your nightstand, right in Luke's lap in your favorite Adirondack chair.
You spent the next week with the Hughes boys, specifically your Hughes boy. You drove the boat out on the lake, wake surfed, Luke even convinced you to go golfing, not that it took him very long because you would say yes to anything he asked.
gold were the color of the leaves, when i showed you centennial park.
You sat by Luke at the end of the dock while you two watched the very cloudy sunset. There was supposed to be rain soon, but it didn't mean the sunset wasn't still pretty. Your thighs were pressed together with how close you sat to each other, giving you both warmth in your chest.
Neither of you said anything, but you both felt something when you let your head rest on his shoulder.
"This is so pretty, Lukey. I missed this with you."
It wasn't much, but it was a way to say that you loved him without saying the real words. I missed watching the sunset with you, I've always loved you.
hell was the journey, but it brought me heaven.
"I missed you."
You closed your eyes, you just wanted to be with him, didn't matter where. You could be watching a sunset on the lake or climbing a mountain, if you were with Luke you were happy.
"Think it's gonna rain soon?"
You looked up at him when you asked, your head never leaving his shoulder. He looked down for a second, before looking out at the sky.
time, wondrous time. gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies.
"Probably, but let's just stay for a few more minutes, okay?"
"Okay."
You relaxed into him further. His arm went to your back, rubbing back and forth. It could probably be pouring down rain and you wouldn't even notice, not when you had Luke with you, like this, you were Moose's girl after all.
It started sprinkling, causing you to look back at Luke, waiting to see if he reacted. He didnt, so you just stayed. Rain never hurt anybody, you'd be the last person to ruin this moment complaining about rain.
This was so strange. It felt like you were stuck in time, the gentle rain made you feel encapsulated in the moment. You sat there, staring off at the sky, the sunset was not as clear now with the thick clouds rolling in, but the colors were still there. The rain kept on passing through, the drops gaining weight and speed.
Luke didn't mind the rain, but he didn't want you to feel like he was forcing you out here, so he shifted to stand, grabbing your hand.
"C'mon, you can't get sick during summer."
You sighed, letting him pull you to your feet. He didn't let go of your hand as he turned to pull you back to your house. You don't know what came over you, but the circumstances seemed perfect, you felt like you had to tell him. You pulled him to a stop, and he turned to look with a confused face.
"What's wrong?"
You looked from him to the ground, looking at your feet, the worn dock you'd run around on summer after summer, the lake you grew up swimming with him in. This place was so full of Luke, of you and Luke.
"I, I really like you Luke. Like literally since we were 12, and I, I just.."
You trailed off, looking anywhere but those eyes.
Luke was flabbergasted. That's the only word to describe how he felt. The girl he was in love with, just said she liked him since they were little. He just stared at her, not believing what he heard.
"Are you for real?"
You would've been embarrassed, had you not heard the pure hope in his voice. You nodded, feeling your face heat up. You covered your face with your hands self-consciously. If you could look at Luke's face, you would’ve seen how he was red all from his neck to his ears.
Luke gently grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your face, and replacing them with his own. He tilted your head back so you looked at him, staring at you for just a second before pulling you in, kissing you, finally.
and it's cool, baby, with me.
Holy shit. You were freaking out, you were probably gonna be jumping up and down whenever he decided to stop kissing you. He did pull away, after a long while, when the rain started pouring. The colors of the sunset had been drowned out by the thunderclouds but you two still felt all sunny on the inside.
There was a rumble in the far distance, while you stared at him, and him back at you. You couldn't contain your excitement, you felt like running a marathon.
"Oh my God."
Your hands went back to your face, and you literally jumped. Luke laughed as you surged with happiness. He felt the same way, his smile bigger and brighter than ever before.
You grabbed his hand, tugging him back to your house quickly. You were finally under the cover of your back porch, out of harm's way. You grabbed two towels from the outside cupboards and wrapped yourselves up, you dried your feet off before running up the stairs, Luke hot on your tail.
You two got upstairs and sat on your bathroom counter while you dried off. You talked quietly, giggling an awful lot.
Once you got dry enough, you led him to your bedroom. You grabbed one of his sweatshirts you had before going to take a pair of your brother's shorts, throwing them to Luke when you got back to your room.
"Here, go change so you don't get sick."
You noticed he had more than the stuff you'd just thrown at him in his hands, he had the picture that previously sat on your night stand.
and isn't it just so pretty to think,
"I like this picture, you have to send it to me, baby."
Baby? You could've died. You nodded, mumbling out an butchered agreement, gesturing for him to leave and get dressed again.
While he was gone, you changed into some sweatpants and another one of Luke's sweatshirts, one you'd had for almost two years. When Luke came back into your room, he'd noticed your sweatshirt immediately. It was from his travel team when he was 16, and it made him so happy.
all along there was some invisible string,
You smiled at him sweetly as he walked back over to you, grabbing your face and kissing you for the second time in the last thirty minutes. You got the same butterflies you'd had living inside you since you were a little girl. This boy had been living in your head since you'd known him, and he was finally yours after you'd been his girl for so many years.
tying you to me?
You both pulled away, wrapping each other in a hug. Luke rocked you two back and forth, leaving kisses on your head.
"I love you, Moosey."
"I love you."
ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh he-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
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