In A Good Way
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)
a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
In A Good Way - Faye Webster
warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.
You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.
She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.
“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.
“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”
You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.
Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.
You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.
“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”
You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”
Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.
“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.
“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.
“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.
“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”
Her eyes meet yours.
“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”
“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”
Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.
You smile.
You see her eyes soften.
She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.
Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.
On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.
You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.
You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.
Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.
“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”
“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.
“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”
“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”
“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”
Percy chuckles a bit.
“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.
“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.
“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.
“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”
“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?
“And people think I’m a big deal?”
“Well, sorta-”
“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”
Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.
“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.
“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”
“Maybe,” Luke concedes.
“Great. Where do we start?”
You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”
—-
You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.
You sit down next to her.
“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.
“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”
“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.
“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”
She hums.
“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”
She shoots you a bored look.
“Don’t say horrible things like that.”
You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”
“Oh, I know.”
—-
“What happened to you?”
You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.
“What?”
She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”
You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.
“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”
You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.
“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.
“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.
“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”
She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.
“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.
“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”
“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”
“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.
—-
Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.
You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.
You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.
After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.
Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.
“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”
You know these rules by heart.
Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.
She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.
“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”
You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.
Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.
“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.
The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.
Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.
“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.
Capture the flag games are taken seriously.
She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.
“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.
“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.
She smiles, a full toothy grin.
“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”
Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.
You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.
“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”
She just smiles.
—-
One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.
The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.
“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.
“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.
Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.
“Hi, Luke,” you smile.
He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.
“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”
Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.
You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”
You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.
“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.
As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.
“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.
Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”
The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.
“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”
Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.
He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.
Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.
It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.
They grab the flag and run for the beach.
The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.
“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.
“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.
Matty helps you up.
“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”
“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”
Matty claps your shoulder.
“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”
And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…
“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.
—-
The scream scares you.
All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.
“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”
“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.
“Clar- wait, Y/N!”
But you’re already long gone.
—-
You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.
“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”
You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.
You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.
“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.
“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.
You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?
“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”
You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.
“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”
She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.
You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.
“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.
“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”
She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.
“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.
—-
You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.
She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.
She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.
You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.
“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”
She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.
“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.
You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.
“Oh, you can.”
“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.
“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”
She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.
“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”
“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”
You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”
She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.
“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.
You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.
“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”
“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”
“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”
Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.
She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.
“He broke it,” she whispers.
“Broke what?”
She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.
“He broke my spear.”
“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.
“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”
You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.
Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.
Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.
And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.
Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.
If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.
—-
Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.
She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.
When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.
It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.
“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”
“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.
“C’mon, baby, who?”
“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”
“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.
You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.
“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.
“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”
“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.
“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”
Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.
“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”
You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.
When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.
—-
clarisse, about to beat up percy
y/n: oh no no no no you don’t
clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍
—-
y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles
clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE
—-
y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke
—-
2K notes
·
View notes
saturday sleepies | jack hughes
summary: a lazy saturday turns into jack begging his girl to take a nap with him
warnings: some suggestive themes, swearing, not deeply proofread
wc: 1.2k+
a/n: was def inspired on this thought i had last night
The rain pattered against the windows, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling the room. A certain sleepy hockey player found himself staring longingly into the open kitchen.
You were fleeting about the kitchen, placing the hot cookies onto a cooling rack, not failing to grab a small piece for yourself. This lazy Saturday had mostly just consisted of you and Jack cuddling on the couch watching movies, but around noon you had got the motivation to bake a yummy treat.
Bending down to grab another pan, you missed the sound of feet paddling towards you on the hardwoods.
“Oh!” A startled sound left your throat at the harsh smack that landed on your ass. You jolted up, turning to face the smirking Hughes, “Was that really necessary?”
He nodded solidly, “Sweetheart, you can’t just put your sexy ass out in the open and not expect me to smack it. If you haven’t learned that by now, I’ve clearly failed as a boyfriend.”
You rolled your eyes, trying your best to fight off the growing smile at his words. Yet your smile was quickly dimmed as Jack moved to grab a cookie from the rack.
Swatting his hand away, you slightly scolded him,
“No touching! They aren’t cool yet, Jack. You’ll burn yourself.”
“But I want one now, baby.” He let out a childlike whine, “They smell so good.”
“Well,” You resumed getting the last pan, “You can have one when they’re completely cooled down. Besides, I have another batch I’m about to put in.”
Jack huffed, before stalking back to your shared room. You just chuckled at his behavior, knowing he wasn’t being serious. You quickly finished up the last batch, putting them in the oven and setting your timer. After cleaning up a bit, you walk back to check on your sulking boyfriend.
Biting your lip to keep in a laugh, you can’t help but be amused at the sight in front of you. Jack, who was now cocooned in the blankets, lay turned away from you, yet still managing to let out obnoxiously loud sighs to gain your attention. Gingerly crawling onto the bed, you sat beside the pouting boy.
“Jacky?” You whispered softly, “The last batch of cookies should be done in 20 minutes and then you can have as many as you want.” Despite your efforts to console him, he still kept a tight lipped pout.
“I don’t want cookies anymore.”
You found yourself rolling your eyes once more, “Then what do you want?”
He slowly turned to face you, sitting up against the headboard. His hair was disheveled, falling messily into his face. The shirt he had been wearing earlier had somehow managed to come off.
“You.”
Your eyes widened at his demand. Furrowing your brows, you shook your head slightly in confusion, “Me?”
He nodded, “Yes, I want you.”
You swallowed thickly, the air in the room suddenly becoming heavy. The darkness behind the blue in his eyes was enough to have your thighs clenching. Deciding to play into his antics, you replied, “What do you want with me?”
He didn’t respond right away, opting to pull your thighs to straddle his own. His hands found home on your hips, squeezing the plushy flesh under his fingertips. His lips leaned to press a soft kiss to where your heart beats rapidly against your throat. Jack smirked at the feeling of your pulse, his ego igniting at the effect he had on your body.
“I want you in every way, all the time, sweetheart.” He began to trail light kisses up the column of your throat to your jaw, “But,” He paused, pulling away slightly before he reached your lips, “Right now I’m sleepy and I want you to nap with me.”
Jack removed himself complete from your tense form, arms falling to rest by his sides. You sucked in a breath of annoyance, pushing off of him.
“What the hell, Jack?” You crossed your arms. It was now your turn to pout.
“Aw, don’t make that face, sweetheart. You know I hate it when you look upset.”
“Then don’t make me upset, Hughes.”
He chuckled, scooting to press the side of his body into yours. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, “C’mon, take a nap with me. You know I can’t sleep without holding you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, choosing to be stubborn, “Can’t. I have cookies to finish.”
Jack let out a dramatic groan before flopping back against the pillows, “The cookies are gonna be done in 10 minutes, you can come nap with me after that.” You looked back at his distressed face, his eyes meeting yours, mouth opening to continue his plea, “Don’t make me beg, sweetheart.”
“Maybe I want you to beg,” You smirked, “Sweetheart.”
He grinned wickedly at you, “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”
Kissing his lips quickly, you got up before he had the chance to trap you in the bed. You could hear the tail end of his protests as you left the room to tend to your baked goods. Eventually, his voice trailed off, while you leaned against the counter, scrolling through your phone.
The timer had finally gone off, signaling the completion of your snack. You slipped on your oven mitt before carefully pulling out the hot pan and placing it on the stovetop. Glancing back at the bedroom door, you squint your eyes slightly, already expecting Jack to have bounded out for a tasty cookie. You grabbed your spatula, swiftly switching the cookies to the cooling rack, then making your way back into the room.
You assumed Jack fell asleep, due to his abnormal silence. Suprise took over your features, as you found the boy propped up looking back at you.
“Jesus, Jack. You look creepy as hell right now.” You grabbed your chest, clearly startled at Jack’s position.
“Well, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I had to finish the cookies,” You crawled under the comforter beside him,” I told you that before I left the room.”
Jack rolled his eyes, “I’ve had just about enough of these cookies. They’re stealing my lady.” He reached to pull your back into his front, burying his head into your hair, “Told ya, I can’t sleep without holding you.”
A soft smile graced your lips at his little confession. As much as he annoyed you and pressed your buttons, he knew just what to say to make it all worth it. This boy was completely and utterly whipped for you, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. Your sweet thought were interrupted by a sneaky hand making its way up your shirt to cup your right breast.
Jack was notorious for loving your breasts, making sure to show them unfiltered affection every possible chance he could.
“More like you can’t sleep without holding my tit. Let’s be honest here, Jacky.”
He didn’t make any effort to deny your claim, only shrugging his shoulders, “What can I say? It’s like my safety blanket.”
You shook your head at his comparison, “I’m glad my boobs serve you well.”
He kissed the back of your head, only replying with a soft, “Shh, sweetheart. I’m sleeping.”
Snuggling back into his warm frame, you close your eyes, finally succumbing to the call of sleep that Jack had been so desperately trying to pull you into.
926 notes
·
View notes