Tumgik
#they eyes go big when they see fire spirit
melzula · 25 days
Note
well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?
zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?
i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂
a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!
summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends
Tumblr media
“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”
“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”
“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.
“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.
Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.
“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.
You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.
“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”
“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”
“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”
“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.
“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.
“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.
“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.
“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”
“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”
After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.
“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.
“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”
“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.
You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21
3K notes · View notes
p1utofairy · 27 days
Text
PICK A CARD: “when i look into your eyes, i know it's real.”
★ which romantic tropes will you and your fp embody?
DISCLAIMER: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates leave what doesn’t. this was such a cute idea – thanks for requesting this anon. 💞 i hope you all enjoy!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— PILE ONE.
Tumblr media
tropes → star-crossed lovers, forbidden love & opposites attract.
there’s a distinct polarity in you and your fp’s personalities & backgrounds, pile 1. you’re more reserved, cautious and patient and they’re more free-spirited and spontaneous. they say whatever they want and deal with the consequences later; this isn’t in a bad way either, i’m more so picking up that they like to stand up and fight for what’s right. they could be an activist of some sort. they’re confident and brave, and you’re really going to admire that. as far as finances go, this person has MONEY, like big money! they either come from money or they are in a profession that pays extremely well and that’s where i see the forbidden love trope coming in to play.
remember how allie in ‘the notebook’ comes from a wealthy, privileged background, while noah is portrayed as more working-class? the contrast in their backgrounds and personalities added depth to their relationship and created a lot of tension and conflict, but ultimately it made their love story more compelling and dynamic – that’s what i see here with you and your fp. you’re tired of over-working yourself for low pay and working jobs that don’t fulfill you financially, mentally and emotionally. you feel stuck…wondering when things are going to change. i see someone looking out of a window in a house, there’s a strong sense of longing and their eyes look sad. they’re waiting for someone or something to arrive, but when? you’ve been telling yourself to keep going and keep pushing through, and then you will see progress and reward in the long run – very saturn/saturnian energy.
it’s interesting because you’re looking for a way out of your situation and your person is looking for an adventure. your fp is very comfortable financially, but they’re lacking in their love life. right now they’re very much single and they’re fine with that, but that fiery energy that burns inside them can’t be dimmed for long. when they cross paths with you they’re gonna be awestruck like “whoa! who is that?” lol. your fp might have some sagittarius/fire sign placements, or they just carry themselves very pompous and matter-of-fact, which might throw you off at first. that’s why i was also picking up on that opposites attract trope because princess belle & the beast from ‘beauty and the beast’ immediately came to mind. belle loved her books and independence, which was a stark contrast with the beast’s initial gruff and hot-tempered nature. you might think they’re a bit arrogant at first, but once you get to know them you’ll understand that there’s layers to them.
their family plays a big part in their life, which ties into the forbidden love trope because i’m ngl their family lowkey can be a lot to handle. as i said before, some of your fps come from money so some of their families might be a little snooty and strict like allie’s mom from ‘the notebook’ but i think with patience and time – you and your fp will learn to not give a f*ck what their family or anybody else thinks. this relationship is destined and you’re meant to show each other the different aspects/complexities of life and love. the energy is very reminiscent of mr. darcy and elizabeth from ‘pride and prejudice’ like remember how much longing and yearning it took for them to finally be together?! it was sooooooo worth it.
additional messages → wealthy, 2 years from now, ego, aries, very lowkey, the blackest day by lana del rey & cultural differences.
— PILE TWO.
Tumblr media
tropes → second chance & age gap.
your fp is dominant af, pile 2. they possess everything within reach, and they’re admired by many. you may establish boundaries with them from the very beginning and they will respect that, they value you and wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt you. however, despite the love, passion, and devotion that will be present in this relationship, there will also be a need for compromise. it seems that this relationship will fulfill your hopes and dreams, but it will also come with its share of responsibilities. in the early stages, both you and your fp will feel a strong urge to make your relationship official and commit to each other. whatever you need or want – they will provide for you. you may not have expected to fall for them, but you couldn’t fight the obvious chemistry between you two. i picked up on the age gap trope mainly because they have provider energy. for some of you, they might already have a kid/kids? your energy feels a little bit more flighty and young. you like to be in your own personal space most of the time, and not everyone understands that, but your fp will.
actually, i think the idea of compromise i was picking up on earlier has to do with your personal space. you might be a bit of an introvert and the idea of constantly entertaining someone 24/7 and not having a moment for yourself is a bit jarring to you. now i’m not saying this person is taking your autonomy away, what i’m saying is that there has to be some sort of balance with the give and take in this connection. it’s reminding me of olivia pope and fitz from ‘scandal’ like one minute he’s showing her the house he had built for them in vermont and then the next scene she’s crying that she needs space and they can’t be together – like OLIVIA what’s it gonna be?! it’s like your heart is saying yes but your mind is saying no.
you’re gonna have to use your discernment and figure out if this is what you want – true commitment. it’s gonna take trust and dedication to make this work, pile 2. it might get to a point where y’all take a break and you choose to see someone else, and then you realize how much of a greater difference your fp makes in your life. they’re your home. that's the second chance trope coming into play. wow, pile 2. this is a very dynamic and complex relationship, but that’s what keeps you two going and loving each other through thick and thin.
additional messages → infrunami by steve lacy, you will meet through friends, extremely dedicated, workaholic, ass kisser, there’s someone in your inner circle you need to cut off, moving abroad, younger sibling & love drought by beyoncé.
— PILE THREE.
Tumblr media
tropes → high school sweethearts & enemies to lovers.
your fp is the life of the party, pile 3…sometimes to a fault lol. they’re capable of being responsible and making good decisions, but sometimes they just say f*ck it and wild out. they can be impulsive and unpredictable at times which is quite the opposite from you. i’m picturing haley and nathan from ‘one tree hill’ and kat and patrick from ‘10 things i hate about you’ AND no by meghan trainer just randomly started playing in my head. i’m honestly so amused by this energy cause you’re like “nope! you’re not gonna fuck my life up.” being all dramatic 🤭 and they’re like “what?! me? i would never!” lol there’s gonna be a lot of witty banter between you both. your friends are gonna encourage you to just give them a chance, cause it’s obvious that you do like them — you just can’t stand how “friendly” they are.
your fp is extroverted as hell and loves a good social outing, whereas you on the other hand, rather curl up in bed with a good book or binge-watch your favorite shows/movies in the comfort of your own home. there’s this energy of “been there, done that.” the party scene just isn’t it for you anymore, and you’re content with that. this connection will really help your fp mature and get more in tune with their emotions, instead of masking them behind reckless behavior and nonchalance. that high school sweethearts trope really comes through strongly, not in the sense that y’all are actually in high school, but that nathan & haley vibe – that puppy love! once y’all are together, nobody can tell y’all shit. you and your fp will RIDE for each other.
nathan and haley definitely had their ups and downs, but they always found a way to make it work once they put their egos aside. haley brought out a side of nathan that nobody else got to experience but her. sometimes butting heads is necessary, it helps you confront things within yourself that you don’t always want to acknowledge. you’re so nurturing pile 3, you bring water to their fire. i don’t see you immediately jumping into this relationship, but that’s the beauty of it. that’s where the enemies to lovers trope kicks in, you’ll have to warm up to them first before you truly understand who they are at the core. your fp is used to fast-pace, hot n’ heavy, fleeting relationships but this is stable. this is pure. they’ll realize you can’t rush true love like this, it’s the journey and build-up that makes it so magical.
additional messages → 1st house placements, sagittarius, very soon, get out of your head, nice and slow by usher & family feud.
— PILE FOUR.
Tumblr media
tropes → friends to lovers & forced proximity.
your fp has very high-energy, pile 4. i feel out of breath like i just got done doing 8 different tasks at once lol they might be very athletic or they just like to keep themselves busy. you and your fp are opposites, but the more you get to know each other, you will begin to realize that you have a lot in common – i’m hearing that you two will have a lot to talk about. sometimes you might find yourself holding back from saying things that you want to say in fear of judgement but with this person that anxiety goes out the window. they want to hear your thoughts and ideas, because they truly value your wisdom and knowledge on certain topics that they might not have been aware of. i’m hearing that they want to know your lore lol this is too cute. maybe you’re really into movies? marvel? fashion? idk there’s something very specific that you could go on and on about for hours and hours.
that’s why i picked up on that friends to lovers trope because i feel like they will show immediate interest in you and want to pursue something more, but you’ll be like WOAH hold it there…let’s build on this and see where it can go, no rush. i’m ngl pile 4 they might have a bit of a reputation or vibe of being a player…which will make you hesitant as to whether or not you want to take this seriously. i don’t even think you two normally run in the same circles – this is more like a chance meeting. yup here goes that forced proximity trope, you’ll probably meet them in some sort of unconventional way and be “forced” to spend time together.
you and your fp kind of remind me of holly and eric from ‘life as we know it’ which is a very underrated but amazing rom-com. i don’t think you’ll initially hate them per se, you’ll just be a bit cautious of them and wonder if they’re actually being genuine. however, by spending time with your fp, you will develop a deeper understanding and appreciation for them; which will then lead to you falling for them and establishing a close bond. you two might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot and then after a proper conversation with them you’ll be like: huh…you’re not so bad after all. there’s this flirty energy that comes in the form of sly/sarcastic remarks, and you’ll come to realize that it’s their own way of saying “i really like you.” it’s giving 2000s rom-com lol hot n cold by katy perry just came to mind.
the sexual tension between you two will be palpable, your friends will be like just f*ck already!!! this relationship will have it’s fair share of ups and downs, but that’s what will make it worth fighting for; nothing and no one is perfect and you will learn that in this relationship. no one could ever compare to you in your fp’s eyes – they will always have love for you even in the moments where you two don’t see eye to eye. the difference in you and your fp’s personalities will be what draws you two together even more.
additional messages → jealousy, jealousy by olivia rodrigo, lots of traveling, you manifested this, different lifestyles but we’ll make it work, your angel guides got your back & when one door closes, another one opens.
763 notes · View notes
literallyangeldust · 1 month
Note
Could you do a headcanon with Lucifer,seeing an old friends of his (when he was in Heaven and a angel) fluff or angst your choice :D
You can ignore this if you want !
જ⁀➴ Lucifer Morningstar x fallen angel! male reader ๋࣭ ⭑
you were lucifers friend back when he was angel but you recently became fallen and he finds you <;33
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
Tumblr media
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D
๋࣭ ⭑ Pairing: Lucifer x fallen angel! male reader
๋࣭ ⭑ TW: injuries, mentions of blood (minor)
๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 728
๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 6
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
Headcannons!!!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● If you were one of the more higher up angels and you were present during the court meeting with Charlie you would definitely start to question things. Especially after how Adam and Lute treated Charlie.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● I would assume you were unaware of the extermination as most angels were and like Emily you would feel terrible for the fact you were killing innocent souls.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Though unlike Emily you were more unlucky and ended up falling due to questioning too much.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Once you were in hell I assume you would be mortified, as heaven's tales of hell always described it in a very vile way.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● You were very lucky that Lucifer found you as most demons don't take kindly to angels since they ya know murder them.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● I feel like it's been so long that Lucifer would forget who you were and you would be like “Lucifer it's me!!” and he would just be like “Uhhhh… who?”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Lucifer would definitely feel bad for you as he knows how much it hurts the heart to become fallen. But I feel like once he recognizes you he would feel even worse.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● You would probably tell him what happened during the meeting and he would most likely be pissed. Not just for you but for Charlie too.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Would let you stay at his castle with him and would treat you like royalty :D you were his best bud after all.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● If you got along with Charlie he would be so happy like his two favorite people like each other!! Yippee!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● He would definitely make you gifts to try to help lift your spirits. Bro would try anything to make sure you don't end up depressed like him lol.
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
You lay on the ground, your head pounded and everything hurt including your wings. Hell you may have even broken one. You could hear the sounds of what sounded like a city but you could also hear screams and you didn't want to know what kind of screams they were. You opened your eyes finally to be met with a red sky, you were clearly in an alleyway. You sat up and groaned in pain as you looked at your wing, yup definitely broken. You leaned against the wall and tried to control your breathing. It all happened so fast one second you were talking to Emily and Sera and the next you were falling. You didn't want to admit it but you were terrified. You could feel tears slowly start to stream down your face as you felt your head get foggy. Were you bleeding? You looked down to notice a pile of golden blood underneath you, shit. Before you knew it everything went black. 
You eventually woke up from the pain in your head coming back but it was less painful than before. You opened your eyes and noticed the very big scenery change. You now seemed to be in a bedroom, it was mainly made up of white, red and gold. Your wounds were all patched and your wing was just... completely healed? You looked around tying to figure out who the fucks house you were in when you noticed a rubber duck on the bedside table. You picked it up and squeezed it only for it to spit fire. You immediately drop it out of surprise and it falls on the floor. You go to the edge of the bed to peer down at it when the sound of a portal comes from the front of the room. You sit up quickly and look at the area where the sound came from to find a short blonde haired man. He had on a white top hat on with a snake and apple decorating it, a red and white suit and a cane with an apple at the end. You felt like you recognized him but you couldn't tell until he spoke.
“Well hello! I found you passed out in an alley, I assume from the golden blood you aren't from around here, are ya?” That voice... oh my god it's Lucifer.
“Luci?” You asked very confused on how the fuck he found you out of all people.
“The one and only!” He smiles pridefully, clearly not recognizing you despite being your best friend before he had fallen.
“Luci, it's me!!” You say quickly hoping to jog his memory but he just looks at you with a puzzled expression. 
“Uh who?” He asks slowly, not understanding how he's supposed to know you.
“It's me, (name)!” You say with a smile hoping at least this will help him remember. He then puts a finger to his chin and seems to think for a while before shaking his head.
“Sorry but I have no clue who you are– anyways young angel you clearly have fallen, and things might seem scary but I'm sure you'll be okay! Now how exactly did this happen?” He says waving around his finger gesturing to you. You sigh clearly saddened by the fact he forgot you. but hey what can you do?
You then explained everything that led up to the fall including the court meeting with Charlie. Just by the look on his face you can tell he's pissed.
“I knew those asshats would treat her like that! I should have never made that meeting..” He grumbles to himself as you just sit there staring not sure what to say. “Well I guess until we figure something out you can stay here.. What did you say your name was again?”
“Oh its (name).” Suddenly something seemed to get in his head as he quickly walked up to you, getting close to your face and squinting his eyes as if trying to find something. He then snaps his fingers with a smile.
“Aha! I do know you!” He smiles happily at you before it turns into a frown. “I never would've thought you would fall…” He says sadly “Well at least it brought us together right!” You just smile and nod before hugging him despite the very big height difference. He hugs you back and you both just stay there for a while. Maybe falling isn't that bad.
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
ahsjdkjd first request lets goooo!! i actually had sm fun writing this lol— lucifer is so cute i love him sm!!
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
523 notes · View notes
Text
Snowball and Jealousy
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hello everyone!
As chosen in the survey, here is a Christmas story with Leah Williamson! I hope you like it:) I imagined it in the same world as Fire and Ice 1 and 2.
Also it's longer than I first thought.
Happy reading!
TW: Still none.
Tumblr media
You started dating Leah a little over a year ago, a few weeks before Christmas. Both felt it was too early to officially introduce yourself to your respective families, so you flew to Norway, your home country, to reunite with your family and spend the holidays with them. That didn’t stop you from thinking about Leah about every secondm and you had to refrain from harassing her with messages. You know very well how much the blonde cares about her family and how much she cherishes the moments spent with them.
This year, though, you’re going to spend Christmas with the Williamsons. You have already met Leah’s parents, brother and grandparents, but it’s true that you have not yet met everyone officially. I mean, that was before you walked into the huge house of one of her aunts, with almost all of the Williamsons. Hearing the noise, you instinctively take back a few steps, despite your hand tenderly entwined in Leah’s. She laughed at you and your sister-in-law patted you on the shoulder.
"Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it" she told you before Leah laid a kiss on your cheek.
"Let’s go find my grandmother" Leah says, and you agree.
It was a long way to get to her. You probably had time to greet everyone in the room before you got to her. You don’t have a large family on your side, your parents have made the choice to have three children because they themselves were only children. So you don’t have any cousins, while Leah has so many that you can’t remember all their names.
"Oh, my favorite, finally!" said the old woman, joyfully, holding out her arms in your direction.
You smile at her and willingly give her a hug letting go of Leah’s hand for the first time since you arrived.
"Well hello to you too Nan" says Leah sarcastically before kissing her grandmother.
You exchange a few words with her, which you appreciate very much. You miss your family when you are in England and she quickly took the role of the grandmother of heart. Which Leah seems to enjoy immensely, despite her teasing.
"Let’s go find our place" Leah said after a few minutes, when her aunt asked everyone to sit down.
You follow her closely and you have no trouble locating your seats, next to Jacob, Leah’s brother and his girlfriend. There you meet new cousins of Leah and you find yourself quickly to be part of their conversation. After the second entrance, you noticed that a girl around you and Leah’ age look in your direction very often. The first times your eyes crossed you thought it must be a coincidence, but with the passing of time you are not so sure.
"Who is it?" you discreetly ask Leah, leaning in her direction.
Leah’s gaze briefly flies in the direction you show her before she rolls with her eyes.
"Hailey, a cousin. We never got along, we only see each other at Christmas"
The answer makes you gently frown, you thought Leah loved every member of her family deeply. Seeing your look, Leah smiles at you and kisses your cheek, whispering that she will explain to you later. You nod again, putting your hand on her leg.
"Christmas games!" Leah’s uncle happily screams after everyone’s entries are over.
A big smile appears on Leah’s face, a smile you know well. The same as when someone offered a game of Fifa, the same one she has before a game of Uno. The one who announces that she will take the competition to heart and who amuses you a lot. Leah’s competitive spirit is known to everyone, as is her bad losing side. It amuses you a lot, especially when you have to cover her with hugs and kisses to cheer her up when she lose.
You smile a little less that said when the draw separates you from her. Luckily you find yourself with Jacob’s girlfriend, Joanna, as well as Hailey. You have unfortunately forgotten the names of other people, except James who is one of the children of his cousins.
"So you’re Leah’s new girlfriend?" Hailey says as you watch Leah’s team thrown into a game of Piccionnary.
"They’ve been together for a year and a half, I wouldn’t use the term new" laughs Joanna, sitting on the other side of you.
You nod and just smile, not taking your blonde out of your eyes. You smile as you see her little dance of joy and you find yourself letting your eyes slide over a particular part of her anatomy when she leans over to take a pen. Of course, this is the time she chooses to look back at you. Her amused smile and arched eyebrow make you understand that she perfectly understood what you were doing. You smile back and shrug, who can blame you for ogling your girlfriend?
"You’re from Norway, right?" asks Hailey
You turn your attention to her to answer her, also answering the questions she asks you about your native country. You could talk about it for hours. You’ve taken Leah twice already there and you can’t wait to leave for a whole week with her at least in January. You have to admit that you get a little lost in your conversation and you wonder why Leah and she don’t get along. She looks pretty nice. You don’t notice that says Leah’s upset look at you from a distance.
When the game is over, Leah quickly makes her way to you and puts her two hands on the armrests of your chair to lean over you.
"Come breathe some fresh air with me?"
"With pleasure" you smile
Leah doesn’t back down when you get up even if she gets up when you do. Your lips ghost hers, causing electric currents throughout your body. Your smile expands and you let her willingly put a kiss on your lips, before grabbing your hand to train you in the snowy garden. All of that, ignoring her cousin with perfection.
Children, dressed from head to toe, run and play, shouting joyfully. A soft smile appears on your face this time, the memories of your winters in Norway coming to mind. Since there are fewer people, you allow yourself to put your two arms around Leah’s waist and let yourself go against her. A year and a half has passed and you still find it frustrating not being able to touch her as much as you would like. But Leah is more of the kind to be discreet without being secret and you obviously respect her choices. On the other hand, you don’t see yourself going into an intense kissing session in public.
Leah puts her arms around you and puts several kisses on your face.
"Great victory" you do mischievously.
"As if it was going to happen otherwise" Leah replies with a goofy grin.
"I’m disappointed though, I won’t need to give you dozens of kisses to make you forget your defeat."
Leah laughs and you look up at her with a smile on her face. You love her laughter and being the reason of it.
"So, what’s the deal with Hailey?" you ask after a few minutes.
"Nothing special except she spent her teenage years flirting with my girlfriends or crushes and trying to steal them from me." sighs Leah, frowning. "It worked one time"
"Oh" you mumble while playing with her sweater. "She even tried with Jordan?"
"She never met Jordan. The first time she was in Australia and then Jordan was in her family. I didn’t really want them to meet, to be honest."
"Why?" you ask while frowning.
"I didn’t particularly want to see my girlfriend get picked up by my cousin."
The answer is logical, but your question involved something else. Leah has always been very honest with you about her relationship with Jordan. But you have to admit that to see that some people always seem to regret their relationship while you don’t hide yours… It’s painful. It obviously has nothing to do with a confidence you wouldn’t have in Leah, quite the contrary. You have complete and complete confidence in her. But your mind doesn’t wait à second to play with you. Are you less important on Leah’s life than Jordan was?
"Why am I here then?" you whisper after a moment of silence, trying to ignore the strange sensation in the pit of your belly.
"I thought she would have changed over time" sighed Leah "I was wrong."
Your insecurities give way to misunderstanding this time. You rise your eyes again, so that you can observe her at best.
"What are you talking about?" you ask while frowning.
"Oh please Babe, don’t tell me you didn’t notice her little game"
"We were just talking about Norway?"
You are lost and you look at Leah without understanding what she means. The pretty blonde looks at you a few seconds before smiling and rolling her eyes, realizing you aren't playing with her.
"It’s true that you have trouble realizing when someone is interested in you, I practically had to jump on you in a hospital bed for you to realize it"
You pout, even if your memories of that moment are intact in your memory. Like your first kiss, for that matter.
"When someone talks to you looking into your eyes, leaning in your direction with a hand on your arm or your knee, it’s an seduction attempt, Y/N."
"Oh."
Leah rolls her eyes again and smile before biting the corner of your jaw with a playful air on her face. You shove her elbow playfully, trying to escape her hold. You finally succeed, running away. Your feet slide on the snow trampled by others before you, but you manage to get away from Leah, passing the corner of the house. Knowing that you will not be able to walk away for a very long time, you take advantage of the few seconds that you have to take a handful of snow and turn it into a ball.
When Leah appears at the corner of the building, you send her the snowball, aiming a little too well since it arrives in full head. Fortunately, you didn’t squeeze the ball too much and the snow spread quickly in all directions and doesn't hurt her. It doesn’t seem to soften Leah, who stops dead and looks you right in the eyes.
"You’re so dead, Darling."
You swallow. You're so dead.
"I’m sorry?"
She resumes her race to catch you and you try to keep her in distance but she managed to catch you after a few meters, tackling you in the snow. The cold and humidity make you squeek, but it doesn’t stop Leah straddling your waist.
"I thought the Norwegians weren’t afraid of the cold?" said Leah maliciously, leaning over you.
"I never said anything about the snow getting in my clothes"
Leah laughs and throws you a handful of snow in the face to make a good figure and not show how much she has a soft spot for you. She has a reputation to uphold after all. But that doesn’t stop her from helping you rise up and take you back against her right after. You sigh at ease while putting yourself against her, your face in the hollow of her neck.
"I’m glad you’re here" said Leah after a few seconds, her lips in your hair.
"Yeah?"
"Mhm" she hums softly. "Just remind me to make sure to keep you away from Hailey next time."
"Will I really need to remind you?"
Your request is made with a small laugh and you lift yourself from her to look at her with amusement. Jealousy is a trait that you didn’t prepare for in her. But since you consider it a proof of love, it’s far from disturbing you. She’s jealous, but not so possessive. The difference is important to you.
"No, certainly not" Leah laughs before kissing your lips. "You’re mine."
"Yours"
You barely have time to exchange a new kiss that a cry of child sounds near you, making you both turn. Covered in snow from head to toe, James seems satisfied to find Leah.
"Lee! Jacob said the Arsenal players suck and then he threw me in the snow!"
"What?! I’m coming!"
Without hesitation, Leah hurries to join James and the Arsenal defenders in the snowball battle that began outside the house. When you come back with Leah’s coat, she’s already soaked, but she accepts it with pleasure. Her gloves too. And since you’re here, she takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from you before training you in battle. After all, it’s also your duty to defend Arsenal, right?
507 notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 1 month
Text
After he’s finished laughing at Iskall, the two of them start working together to finish drying off Iskall’s clothes. Beef knows full well that if he doesn’t, the man will almost certainly spend the next week naked, just to spite Beef. It’d go against the spirit of the message, to have Iskall turn around and strip because of it.
“I still can’t believe you filled my house with fishes! After I spent a whole ten minutes getting them for you!” Iskall complains. “You do not understand being neighborly. It’s sad.”
“I told you, the more fish you got me, the better your interior would be. You should be grateful, really. Many people would only dream of getting to sleep with this many fishes. It’s a much kinder warning of what will happen when you mess with me than some people get,” Beef advises. “Big Salmon isn’t very happy with you.”
“Sleep with—okay, first, I cannot sleep with salmons, because it gets all my clothes wet. I respawned underwater, Beef!”
“Well, better not upset me more,” Beef says.
“Second, I do not know phrases well. I thought that was a… a saying meaning that you kill them, when you make them sleep with fishes? I thought it was a crime thing. I did not think—sleeping with actual fishes was involved,” Iskall continues.
“I find that in my line of work, double meanings are handy to really drive the point home,” Beef says. “You’ll never know how you’ll sleep with the fishes next time, after all.”
“Right. Okay. Sure. Third: since when were you in Grian’s weird fish cult? Because, dude, I don’t know if I would have spent a whole ten minutes gathering salmon for you if I knew you were in a weird fish cult.”
Beef huffs, offended. “Not a cult! Thats the wrong—I assure you, religion has nothing to do with Big Salmon, just profits and salmon-related—hold on, wait, did you say Grian?”
Iskall stops, confused, from where he’d been airing out his jeans next to a campfire, nearly setting the article of clothing on fire in the process. Beef and Iskall are promptly distracted trying to put out the pants fire, and for a moment, Beef nearly forgets his conversation. After the now somewhat singed and somehow still not dry pants are rescued, though, Iskall remembers.
“Anyway, yeah, Grian. I didn’t think you were involved with him. He made a whole weird cod cave and everything. I think he was trying to worship some ocean fish thingy. It was weird.”
“I don’t know how to unpack that,” Beef says.
“You’re doing it too!” Iskall accuses.
“No, I’m making legal business decisions,” Beef says. “I think I would know if I were in a fish cult, especially one for something as gauche as cod.”
“Technically the cult is about a mending book,” Iskall says.
“Okay, sure,” Beef says.
“He tried to tell me it wasn’t a cult too, but dude, it definitely was. I am judging him. And also you. Get better things to do.”
“It’s not—you are misunderstanding. It’s a family,” Beef says.
“Still don’t get it,” Iskall says.
Beef groans and rolls his eyes. “Like the Godfather.”
“Oh! You are trying to kill me, but for dramatic crime reasons! I get it now. You know, the whole salmon thing still seems a little creepy though, especially with Grian’s cave. Are you sure…”
“Absolutely positive,” Beef says. “I can’t believe you accused me of following something Grian started. I’m offended.”
“Shouldn’t you be more offended at the cult thing?” Iskall asks.
“You’re the one with the giant monolith. You’re one to talk,” Beef says.
“I don’t see how that’s related,” Iskall says.
Beef looks across the neighborhood to the giant looming grey obelisk, covered in runes and filled with esoteric blocks Iskall had collected from all of the hermits. He looks back at Iskall.
“Yeah, fine,” Beef says. “Let’s just finish drying out your clothes.”
“You owe me even more now,” Iskall says.
“I absolutely do not, don’t even start—”
329 notes · View notes
thatsdemko · 5 months
Text
hope you feel better - o.piastri
pairing: Oscar piastri x fem!norris!reader
warnings: suggested smut but not explicitly
a/n: I have a longer fic of Norris!reader x Oscar coming soon hopefully!
Tumblr media
tossing his helmet into the nearest chair, he exhales a sigh. he knows he shouldn’t seek comfort in you, you’re busy floating on a high from your brothers podium. he’s confident you don’t have time for him, but when you see that frown tugging on his face, you stop in your tracks.
“osc,” the name escapes your lips with ease. it used to feel so unnatural, that tells you how many times you’ve said it in the past three months.
his big brown eyes scan your body. the McLaren tee is tight against your chest, he aches for the comfort of your breast as a pillow while he sulks. but he knows you better, you’ll lift his spirits rather than make him feel like he wants.
“it just wasn’t in the cards. the race had a bad start to begin with, which isn’t your fault, but you still performed despite that. don’t be so down.” you lean into the gap between his knees and press a kiss to his sweaty forehead, “I have to go, okay? I’ll see you—“
“stay.” the whimper that escapes his lips are pathetic. you’d cringe if it was any other man, but with his big soft eyes and tiny smile, you can’t help but cave in.
“my whole family will know I’m missing, osc.”
“let them look,” he speaks quietly, pulling you closer towards his lap, “you’re safe with me.”
his arms are a like a blanket: soft and secure. his chest is warm like a fire, making you cozy up closer to him. he’d cracked open the hotel room window the second things heated up, your bra on the floor and panties somewhere around them, he’d needed air to fill his lungs again. the cold air of England was able to do that.
he keeps you close, your heartbeats in synch, you could stay here forever. but there’s a world out there begging to know you’re safe. you can feel their anger through the device tossed somewhere in the small hotel room. but you refuse to move.
turns out making Oscar feel better was just as easy as sitting on his lap on the ride home from the paddock. it didn’t take much else for a smile to form and many orgasms later, he’s in a better mood.
“I’ll walk you back.” his whisper pulls you back in. pressing your palms against his chest you sit up right,and roll off of him, “they deserve to know I stole you.”
“what if I want to just lay here with you? and forget reality forever?”
his eyebrows shot up to his forehead making wrinkled lines form, “forever is a big word, Norris. you sure about that?” he asks.
you mold your body back against his and allow the missing warmth heat you up once again, “I wouldn’t ignore all one hundred texts from my family for nothing, Oscar.”
tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @goldenalbon
794 notes · View notes
redwineandtarot · 11 months
Text
Who is your future spouse?
hi! today's pac is about your fs. these are general messages about them. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3
decks used: ethereal visions illuminated tarot deck, the spirit animal oracle deck, moonology oracle cards, the soul's journey lesson cards
note: i am not talking about gender when i say feminine or masculine energies. masculine and feminine energies are just energies. anyone can have feminine or masculine energies regardless of their gender.
🕯️my youtube subliminal channel🕯️
Disclaimer:My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.
pick a pile
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pile 1-2-3
i do not own these pictures
pile 1
I see that your fs is someone ambitious and ready to fight for what they believe in. They have high hopes for themselves. They can sometimes be a bit too argumentative but mostly I am seeing this as defending what they hold near their fire (i was gonna say heart but i felt like saying fire). They can even fight their closest ones to defend their beliefs. They’ve got a lot of passion. They can see the beauty in things. They mostly have a masculine energy.
I see that while they are mostly in their masculine energy, they still can bring out their feminine energy and be very nurturing. They also have their gentle side inside them. Especially towards the people and things they love. They may have big eyes or very prominent eyes in some way. They may have experienced a big event while they were 18 that still affects them in some way.
They have a lot of gratitude for the things they have achieved so far. They have this balanced energy: while they have this fiery spirit, they can remain calm in situations that they need to stay calm. Again they see the beauty in things and are grateful for having the life they have. They are more on the optimistic side. 
from their higher self to you
Pile 1, are you more of a pessimistic person? Your fs is saying you need to release this pessimistic way of looking at life. Lol they are now saying it's okay if you don't, when they meet you they will help look on the bright side of things. But if you start now it’s mostly for your benefit, they say.
random things: clean and chic, suits
10th house, cancer, mercury
songs: charmer - stray kids (they are a charmer for sure lol), good thing - zedd, kehlani
pile 2
Pile 2, while i was shuffling the cards were going crazy! They may be in a chaotic situation right now. Like having a tower moment in some sort of.
They are on their head a lot. They worry a lot. Maybe it’s just their energy right now and not in general but I am seeing them, like, scattered(?). Like I said, even getting cards for them was hard and it was just chaotic. They have a stubborn energy. They are a go-getter. They are slow at making decisions but once they do it's hard for people to make them turn back. Even when it's better for them to turn back. They are a logical person for sure. And this can be for their detriment sometimes. They may suffer from some kind of mental illness, especially anxiety.
They are curious and independent.  Like they are so careful(?)  about their independence. This might make them seem like they are “not-available” to people. They probably had to learn to be this way in their childhood. They have a cold demeanor but inside they want to open their heart for that special someone. Please be loving to them pile 2, they are a softie inside. You might help them learn to appreciate their long lost softer side.
They might feel lonely even though they have lots of people that love them. I also see that they have an international friend group. Idk if they are always like this but especially right now they feel lonely. They are going through some tough things so probably that's why their energy is also showing up like this. Like they have lost themselves? They try to stand up again pile 2 and sure they will.
They've got a lot to say but feel like they can't share it with anyone. Like they didn't want me to go and tried to keep me with them.
from their higher self to you
It was again hard to get a card. I guess they didn't want you to see them at their worst. 
Their message for you is… Pile 2 they are so sweet, they are encouraging you to go after your dreams. They are like “I am in this way but l don't want this to affect pile 2, they are meant to shine”. They see you as their moon and want you to be confident in your dreams, they believe in you <3
dark aesthetic, dark hair, ginger hair
8th house, scorpio, venus
songs: into it - chase atlantic, i’ll dream of you again - harry connick, jr.
pile 3
Similar to pile 2’s fs, they are going through something right now. But their energy is a lot lighter? Like they have spilled some cups but they have gotten over it. They are already restarting and thinking about what comes next. I think in general they are like this: they overcome hardships fastly. Like they grieve over it, they let them feel their emotions and then they start to look at what's ahead again. It’s random but they may have a powerful(?) family in some sort of way. The scale would be different for everyone but it might be money, respect etc. I also see that they have balanced feminine-masculine energies.
They are attractive physically. Like a lot. When they enter a room, all eyes are on them. They might also have leo placements. But they know their worth. That’s probably why they overcome hardships so fast. And that’s also the reason why they are so determined. Their heart is open, they are emotionally intelligent. And they might have strong intuition in some sort of way.
People envy them a lot. They seem like they have everything together? Like their family is powerful, they know their worth etc. People might gossip about them a lot. So be careful pile 3, there may be false rumors about them. People might think they may have had it easy but it is not true. They also have had their hardships. They appreciate different cultures and different points of views.
from their higher self to you
“You are good enough like the way you are. While change is good, love, you must appreciate the way you are right now.” “I find you physically and emotionally so attractive. You are beautiful my love.” “Don’t hide yourself from me.” They admire your energy a lot, pile 3! They insist on saying that they appreciate you the way you are.
6th house, sagittarius, venus
songs: stand still - sabrina claudio, i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys
1K notes · View notes
halcyone-of-the-sea · 5 months
Text
Black Metal and Bourbon (III)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
AU MASTERLIST || THE FINAL PART
Tumblr media
PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Bartender!Reader
WORDCOUNT: 7.9k
WARNINGS: Depictions of injuries, blood, gore, abductions, death, talks about bike crashes, violence, guns, intended harm, past toxic relationship, murder, protective!Simon, suggestive content, (1) dirty joke, etc. (18+ mini-series)
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
Tumblr media
You remember the long nights when you would sit in the empty bar and wonder why you’d never left. Why you couldn’t up and disappear like you wanted to—a bird taking flight and choosing any direction at all to travel, just as long as you didn’t stay on this branch. It wouldn’t have been hard. There wasn’t anything here that mattered to you. 
This invisible string was holding you back, waiting; tying you to something that you would never understand for as long as you lived. You had dreams and aspirations. 
So why hadn’t you grabbed them by the throat and dragged them along with you?
Maybe there were larger powers in that old town, a mischievous spirit that played a game of chess with the lives of its inhabitants. It certainly felt like it.
Especially when you’re flying through the air, the rain falling in slow motion as hands slash past wind to grab at your body. You recall flashes of that day. Snippets. 
Even now, you feel like you see it in the third person, your form getting tossed by the momentum of the flipping motorcycle and cutting the storm—Simon’s hands reaching out and grasping you. He had dragged you into his chest, his back taking the force of the ground as you slid along the wet streets, pained grunts echoing into your soul as your panic resulted in a shocked muteness. His hands had been gripping you so tight that veins had burst, the view of the sky above you as your back conformed to his chest. 
And then you’d both tumbled, rolled over and over as the screech of metal grated your ringing eardrums and pain flared like fire. Your head slammed into the front of the helmet with a smack, and nothing else is recalled. 
Until now, of course. 
You try to move your fingers, the tight hold of a cast over the entirety of your left forearm—the action brings a wave of weakness with it, making you grit your teeth. You’d woken up in the hospital with black dots in your vision, your body so unresponsive your mind had panicked thinking you wouldn’t be able to move at all. 
And Simon? 
Where was Simon? You’d been so loud with your hoarse calling that the nurses had rushed in and had to put you back under, letting you drift and brushing their hands over your head as you babbled on failing breath. Never once had your brain left you void of the mechanic’s brown eyes—his hands grabbing you, keeping you safe at the risk of his own flesh. 
He hadn’t been wearing a helmet.
But now…now you were fully conscious. 
“Where is he?” Your face is perhaps one of the few parts of you that was unscathed. Your legs were skinned—wrapped so tightly you couldn’t move them. While Simon’s leather jacket had saved your arms, they were still battered and bulging with blisters as big as your hand. Your forearm was broken.
The nurse shushed you, and your voice snapped. “Loralie, I’ve known you since middle school,” she pauses, lips thinning as she messes with your IV drip. “You’re going to tell me where the hell he is, or I’m going to scream that you made Braylan Holt forge your high school diploma.”
Sizzling eyes meet yours, but not even that will deter you—your heart is heard, rapid on the screen to your left.
“You’re a damn horror, Bartender.”
“You’re acting like I give a shit,” you growl and the nurse slightly moves back, never hearing that venom from you before to such a degree. “Where the fuck is Simon before I get up myself.”
It’s like a dog with fear aggression—you can’t comprehend the man you’d formed such a bond with hurt, much less here in this hospital with you and…and…
Your heart rate increases even more. 
He wasn’t wearing a helmet.
“That’s not gonna happen, Sweetheart,” Loralie grits out. “You won’t be walkin’ for another week, at least. Not with all that damage—your legs were so bloody the EMTs couldn’t tell where the hell the blood was even comin’ from.”
Your working hand curls into a tight fist, teeth snapping together as you restrain a flinch. You don’t want to think about that right now. 
“Simon,” you grunt, shaking. 
The woman stares for a moment before sighing. 
“You’re something strange, Girl. How the hell you managed to be stuck here is some mystery I can’t fathom. Fine,” she glares before a fast whisper. “But you best forget about that stint with Holt, alright? You never mention that again—”
“Already forgotten,” you grind out, impatient. Even the muddled agony from under the sheen of the pain meds couldn’t stop you. “Speak.”
“The man’s in rough shape. Hasn’t woken up yet.” Your jaw clenches tight, blood pumping like a river. A finger is leveled at you, moving in an accusing motion. “He’s lucky he didn’t die, by all accounts the shape he was in he should have. Had to go into surgery to get the bike shrapnel out of his legs.”
“Surgery?” Your eyes go wide, your voice frantic. “W-what about his head—did he hit it, or…or is he—”
“His brain waves are active.” The nurse tidies the blankets at the end of your bed. “Can’t say that about his body.” 
Your throat sinches violently, and you have to look away to hide your tears. Moments later, the woman lets out an aggressive sigh, her hands moving to cross over her chest. 
“That man must fucking love you,” you blank, blinking quickly as you sniffle and try to shift your expression back to fake anger.
“What…?” You ask, your tone defeated.
Loralie stares, her eyes moving to the IV only to waft back when she can gather her thoughts. 
“If he hadn’t grabbed you, you would have gone right off the edge of the road into the rocks.” In the bed, your body goes as still as possible, your ears twitching at the confession. “In the middle of getting road-burned to all hell, he still grabbed you. If you would have gone over, we’d only be having one of our intensive care rooms filled up…you hear?”
You can’t say anything, only watch as the nurse finishes up her work and exits with one last look of exasperation. 
Alone, your brain finally tries to comprehend what you’d just been told. 
“...Simon,” you whisper to dead air long minutes later, the machines all around you beeping. 
The tears come easily.
When your legs finally started working again, it didn’t bring you any comfort. Only Simon could do that, and seeing the looks from the other staff, they knew it as well. You couldn’t keep your full weight on your limbs, only bend the toes and knees in small intervals. 
The doctor said it was a fantastic start, but you felt helpless. 
You wanted to see him, yet first came the interview with the Sheriff to explain what had happened. After the details started coming back, a larger picture was formed, and when you had been able to get ahold of a phone—your own shattered and little more than a box—you’d heard a case had already been opened. 
Simon’s bike had been tampered with. 
After you’d given your statement, you had been surprised to find three mechanics at your door, walking in quickly and throwing over concerned looks at your busted forearm and hidden legs. 
“Christ,” Soap says, a flash of anger crossing like lightning over his eyes. “You don’t hurt much, do you?”
“No,” you lie easily. “Could be worse,” your words were whispered. 
John sends you an indiserable look as Gaz sips off his hat and keeps it in his grip as he frowns. 
“We’re happy you’re alright, Love. Scared us half to death when we heard the news—thought the worst,” Kyle commented, the Brit’s hand running over his neck slowly. 
They could all tell that you weren’t in the right mindset. 
“He’s alive,” you look over to Price sharply. Those blue eyes don’t waver. “That’s all that matters. He’s alive.”
“Aye,” Johnny agrees, nodding his head and crossing his arms. A stubborn expression was on his face. “Never known someone like Simon. The man’ll push through without a doubt—just needs time to rest up.”
“I shouldn’t have agreed to go out,” you mutter, rubbing at your cheek, thinking about a man with a mangled body and skinned bones. Jesus, he needed to be alright. He had to be. 
“No one could have thought that would happen,” Kyle comes over and puts a firm hand on your shoulder. “Hey, c’mon,” you look at him with a guilty face; fear under your tiny pupils. The man smiles, but it’s shaky at best. “We all know who to blame for this, yeah? Don’t go taking that from the person who needs to carry it.”
“We’ve been keeping up with it,” Soap adds, frowning. “Still no trace.”
“They haven't found him yet?” Your brows turn in with concern, a sudden paranoia entering your head—if they hadn’t found Graham, what’s to stop him from doing something like this again? Hell, if he was unhinged enough to commit attempted murder, what was stopping him from pushing those boundaries now that he’s already gone through with the former?  
“We’re not going anywhere,” John seems to sense this. You look at him quickly. The man grunts, lips moving as he speaks. “Not until he’s found.”
A piece of your heart eases at that, thankfulness flooding your veins.
“...Do,” your voice pauses, and you swallow down saliva slowly before you continue. “Do you know when they’ll let me see him?”
Soap and Gaz share a glance, the Scot going to ease into the chair on the other side of the room with a low sigh. 
“They’re not letting anyone in,” Kyle utters. “Not until his condition improves a bit. We tried.” 
“Two weeks,” John nods to you. “They’re only giving estimates.” 
Fingers twitching, you look down at your lap, the hospital bed hard under you. The words come out, and you find they’re met with a hard certainty from the men around you.
“What if they don’t find Graham?”
“...Then we will.”
The mechanics had all looked over their bikes for any tampering and had found none when they reported back to you—the bolts had been loosened only on Simon’s. Soap was the one who had mentioned that you might have never been the target at all, and that Graham had been a spiteful man who just wanted to make a point about his past relationships’ new attraction. The thought didn’t settle you.
All of them were undeniably worried about their friend.
You’d tried to get what you could out of the other nurses—any signs of waking or getting better, but there were only stiff looks as if it was taboo to talk about him. Like an inside joke with the devil. 
The staff had finally said they would tell you themselves if there was any change in Simon’s health. It didn’t stop you from asking, though. It currently didn’t stop you from sneaking out in the middle of the night after visiting hours, either. 
Your legs were still weak, sometimes going numb entirely as you dragged them over the floor. Inside your eyes, black dots swirled as you effectively dodged the front desk by taking the far back hallway; the lights above your head were too bright and too loud. 
Your arm burned something awful.
Eyes blinking rapidly, you pant as you go from room to room, not stopping even to breathe before room fourteen makes your soul pull in on itself like a crow holding a bell. The bit of metal jingles, attached to a red string that flutters in the wind—reaching back to the wreath it was stolen from. 
Not understanding the instinctual feeling, you grasp the handle and push open the door with more force than you’re able to push out of you; your working arm quivering violently. 
But the sight behind the door is something you would cross mountains for. 
Simon lies still on the bed, attached to so many machines he seems more like a cyborg than a man. Over his face, an oxygen mask takes the place of a balaclava, and the right side of flesh is patched with so many bandages the bulk makes your stomach drop. 
“Simon,” you whisper, stuttering as your blood falls internally to pool at your feet. 
Walking over as quickly as you’re able, you pause at the side of his bed, nearly falling over as your knees buckle. You lean your weight on the frame and take a deep breath. 
This man saved your life. 
You look at him, unable to say anything—unable to utter a sarcastic quip. Your hand stutters in its course through the sterile air, but at the very end of it, your skin settles over Simon’s hand; the limb on his chest. 
“Simon,” you say again, licking your lips, fingers squeezing his tattoos as if to bring the images to life. “Can you hear me, Brown-Eyes?” 
You needed him to wake up—needed to speak to him, see that October gaze lock so numbly with yours. Dead eyes had never meant so much to you than when the man that wore them wasn’t blinking so softly. Where had he gone?
“Simon,” you plead, getting choked up when nothing happens beyond the flicking of the light on the ceiling. The beeping of his pulse didn’t change, not even when you intertwined your fingers together to lock them like a knot—a promise. “I need you to be okay,” your voice stutters. 
“We have to get through this together…I…” Tears splatter his tattoos, his lovely, beautiful, tattoos, you hiccup. “We need each other.”
Maybe it was cliche, two people who relied on one another in a town of nobodies, but it didn’t make it untrue. And maybe it was a partial lie—after all, you didn’t know what Simon thought of you exactly, but the way he looked at you, how he cast his shadow above yours, was a well enough guess in the right direction. But you needed to say it, and your heart ached to see him like this.
Simon doesn’t move, his hand is cold and his lashes stuck to his cheeks.
“Simon,” you hiss, sniffling. 
The hours pass, and you stay there for as long as you’re able before your body is about to give out on you. You reluctantly kiss his forehead and leave with a crushing weight on your shoulders, so much so that the flashes of broken metal and rain don’t even bother you at this point.
A rage grows in your breast.
But when you sneak back to your room, you don’t go to bed. You can’t. The smell in the space is something that leaves your eyes stuck wide until your legs actually do buckle. Your eyes stare at the far wall blankly.
Cigarette smoke lingers in the air.
“He woke up last night.” Your blank eyes stare, expression stuck firm. Loralie gives you your lunch, setting it down on the bed tray. “Around three. Said your name and then passed out again.” 
“Why didn’t you get me?” You’re already pushing off the bed, your lips letting loose a grunt. The boys had to be at work today—a Thursday—so that left you alone and bored until they took a break and walked over to keep an eye on things. 
Wincing when your feet touch down, you’re quickly, and very easily, pushed back into bed with a scoff. 
“Loralie,” you growl, venom in your throat like a rampaging bull. 
“Sit down and let me finish.” The both of you glare before she rolls her eyes and points to the food. “Acting like a damn teenager. Eat.” She doesn’t start until you pick up the fork just to shove a single piece of the lunch into your mouth to spite her, slowly chewing it with a scowl. Loralie rubs at her temple. “He’s getting better, but it’s still a long road. Activity’s peaking every now and again—fingers been twitching, too. Some of the bandages have been able to come off.”
“Thank the fucking lord,” you breathe, running both hands over your face as you sigh out slowly. “Any estimate on when he might fully wake up.”
“God knows,” the nurse huffs. “He had brain bleed. Man was all kinds of messed-up.”
Your chest tightens, but you say nothing. You’d suddenly lost your appetite. 
As the afternoon rolls around, you take down your pain medicine and fight the blurriness of your eyes. Healing was a very long and very tiring process—it seemed like no matter how much sleep you got you still woke up tired. And you suppose that was why you fell into an uncomfortable nap and woke up to the window still open, the moonlight rays like sheer fabric cascading down to the tile floors. 
Groaning, your head lifts from the pillow; your first thoughts are always of Simon and how he’s doing. It was time to see him again. 
Your TV-static mind reruns how he looks over and over again—the bloody bandages, the wrappings around his face. Even the machines now seemed to sneer at you as your guilt grew harder to ignore. He’d saved you at the cost of himself…without even hesitating. 
Why would he do that?
“You really had to go and make me love you, huh?” You ask into the cold air, a breeze shifting through as you slowly sit up on one arm. “Simon, if I’d known you would have gone and done this, I would have never looked at that sold sign. At least then you’d be okay.”
“You love him?” Your body twists up, large patches of gauze pulling at dried blood and mixed plasma as your body keeps itself upright. The shadow in the corner of the room moves as your fatigued brain wakes itself back up in no time at all. 
Graham. 
Eyes stuck to the far corner, the phantom of your Ex stands tall—his eyes beady. Your entire being freezes as your lips part in horror, yet, you can’t make a sound. 
He’s disheveled looking, but those eyes of his have never been more rageful. Like walking through the hospital and coming face-to-face with a grizzly bear of all things. It’s strange, but your thoughts immediately go to Simon as he steps forward, sneering at you. 
“The first man that comes into town and you love him? I didn’t think you were so easy, but I guess I was wrong.”
“What are you doing here?” Your voice is hushed, panicked—adrenaline spikes in your veins. 
If you screamed, who’s to say he wouldn’t just pounce on you? 
Graham runs a hand over his hair, his scent taking up your nostrils until you feel the need to nearly gag at ash and tobacco. “I needed to see you—explain,” he stutters, emotions swiftly flicking from anger to fake remorse. 
Your hand slowly inches to the nurse-call button attached to the wall near the bed, the cord leaking out like a snake as your fingertip catches against it. 
“You weren’t supposed to be on that bike, okay? Celina fucking messed it up—she was supposed to keep you workin’ until he went out on his own.” He’s coming closer, and you push back up the mattress in distress. 
He doesn’t stop.
“What the fuck, Graham,” your voice rises slightly, cracking in the middle. 
The man growls. “It wasn’t my fault! J-just forget about it, okay? You’re fine now, it all worked out.”
“You tried to kill us!” You shout, and Graham’s instant hiss makes you flinch back and scamper as you slam the wall behind you. 
“Don’t do that,” he snaps. “Do not…do that. Keep your damn voice down!” 
“And if I scream?” You tilt your head, shaking violently. “What then, huh? You lousy son of a bitch.” 
“You’re lucky I don’t pay that Simon of yours a visit, yeah?” Your lungs tighten, a wheezing inhale stuck in your throat. 
“You wouldn’t, Graham,” you whisper hastily. “Not with all of this shit you’ve gotten yourself into—turn yourself in and fix this.” 
The man spays his hands and your hand shifts to the bulk of the nurse’s button, running over the top until you find the correct one to press. 
It moves in with a slight pop of plastic, the darkness of the room giving you extra coverage as you slowly drop it back down. 
“It’s too late for that.” Graham shakes his head, and his stench overtakes you as you gag lightly, casted hand coming up to hide your nose. He pauses near the side of the bed, and you push to the opposite side and hear your feet slap the ground. The size of your makeshift barrier doesn’t fill you with confidence. “You need to come with me.”
“What,” you laugh in exasperation; fear coating the hoarse noise. “No! Leave!”
It was obvious that your usual sarcastic tone had slipped to a fearful one, your heart making your voice palpitate with every thump of the veins in your neck. 
The door opens and Graham’s hand darts to the back of his pants. 
Loralie’s body comes into view. “What’s happened now—”
A great ear-shattering boom leaves you screaming as blood splatters into the air.
Simon woke up to the world spinning. 
He grunts heavily, the oxygen mask over his face tight before he can slap a weak hand to the plastic and pull it back. The man coughs, spine curling before a bone-deep pain makes him stop with a firm inhale. 
Blinking sluggishly, he grinds his teeth together and lets the mask slip to his cheek. Movement at his slide makes Simon pause—trying to gather his bearings.
What was going on?
“Simon, easy with it.” Scottish. Johnny. “Christ…how am I going to explain this?” More shuffling and fast feet over to the side of the bed. 
“Johnny,” Simon grunts, vocal cords tight. He needed water. 
“One second, just wait. Let me…” A pause before a sloshing of water. Above the man in the bed, the ceiling moves and swirls—dancing. Simon remembers water…the bike…
“Can you hold it, then?” He doesn’t answer the Scot, instead slapping out a hand to curl the body of the glass, bringing it to his lips and downing the liquid as it slips from the side and dribbles down the side of his face. 
Johnny grumbles, “Alright.”
You. 
Simon choked on the drink, moving it back before his arms slammed to the bed, the glass bouncing off and shattering against the floor. 
“Fucking hell!” Johnny shouts, rushing forward to put a stiff hand on Simon’s chest, trying to push him back down and avoid the glass that now litters the tile. “Stop it, you’ll destroy all the damn work they did, ya idiot!”
“Where is she?” Simon garbles out, glaring forward even as his body screams and peels back healed flesh. 
“Stay the fuck down and I will!” Blue eyes sear downward, meeting brown as they battle for a moment. 
Simon clenches his hands, but compiles, top half moving back to collapse to the pillows once more. Not once do his eyes stray from the Scot, ordering him mutely to continue as his heart pounds in his breast. He remembers grabbing you and then nothing else—the scream of sirens in his ears like a distant call from a dream. But his body ached far too much for this to be a dream. 
“Where,” Simon forces out through his accent, throat like gravel. His chest was filled with dread at the nervous sheen over Johnny’s face.
“Ah…” The Scot begins. “She’s fine, Simon. She’s alive.”
That didn’t give him any reassurance. 
Simon hisses, quickly trying to get back up again and succeeding in straining his body enough to sit halfway upward. All of the wires and cords attached to him rip and pop off, frantic beeping emanating from the room. 
“Take me to ‘er. Now.”
“I can’t do that!” Johnny hisses, hands out and failing to keep him stationary. “Would you just calm down?” 
The man doesn’t answer, not until the nurses rush into the room due to the noise and tell him false words to try and get him to lay back down. Simon knew something was wrong—instincts going haywire. 
Were you…dead? No, you couldn’t be. That wouldn't be possible. Johnny knew better than to lie to him. 
“Johnny!” Simon shouts as loud as he’s able; raw authority in his mouth. Even the nurses freeze at that. 
The mohawked man’s twisted face is wracked with guilt, and there calls to the fact that Gaz and Price are nowhere to be seen. 
Simon says it slowly, wounds bleeding and his face opening the long scrapes of road-burn on his left side. It burns like a fire—itching like no other. But it’s secondary to the pure adrenaline keeping him awake. 
“Where.”
Even Johnny can’t fight that tone. 
“Graham has ‘er.”
This was a hunting shed, you knew. One out in the middle of the trees—about three miles from town with its rot-infected walls and a chipping wood fireplace. The floor is nearly covered in cigarette butts. 
You stay stuck in the far corner—hands and feet zip-tied together. Your head had been covered by a bag that you had grabbed and ripped off when the world stopped jostling from the trunk of a car. From then, you had been dragged at gunpoint through the hell portal of the front door. 
Graham is watching from the single chair across the room, itching at his scalp with the barrel of a .44 Magnum and using his other hand to rub along his thigh. 
“Shit,” he mutters as you watch, silent and as still as a stake in the ground. “Shit, shit, shit.” Loralie’s blood is still splattered along your face. 
He’d shot her through the stomach. You’d seen her body drop: dead in an instant.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” Graham stands suddenly, and your body recoils with a slam of your shoulder into the wall. The frame shakes. The man quivers as he glares at you. “It wasn’t my fault she came in through the fucking door!” 
You only nod tinily in frantic agreement, looking around the room in search of anything that might help you. But there’s only so much you can do against a man holding a gun—a man who finds himself wanted for a slough of crimes which now just got incredibly long.
You had heard the sirens bouncing over the hills hours prior, but no one knew you were out here unless they happened to be the best-trained tracker of all time.
It should be morning now, but the threat of rain outside obscures the tiny slivers of light that try to pierce the leaves of the forest. 
“Fuck!” Graham screams, foot kicking out to connect with the chair and sending it flying backward before it splinters and clatters—all termite-eaten legs and cracked seat. 
Your mouth releases a squeak, panting breath a sharp gasp. 
You needed to figure something out. Quickly. 
The single window is smashed in, glass sprinkling the ground in large shards, and you don’t care if it’s the result of some teenagers smashing property or anything else for that matter—you had to snap these bonds. 
It wasn’t like the termites could help. 
“Graham.” You’d never call yourself stupid, and heaven help anyone else who tried to. You didn’t work at a bar without learning more and more about the human psyche than all the years in school and adult life combined. Everyone had games they played inside of their head, a series of tic-tac-toe boards or grandiose plots of fanatical sagas; it just so happened that Graham fashioned himself the hero of every single one of them. Every line was his chicken scratch signature. 
“Graham,” you raise your voice and say again, forcing past the quiver in your tone to a lake’s calm waters.
The man’s panicking—restless as he paces the front door, guarding it from you. It wasn’t too far-fetched to believe he could kill you now to put an end to this shit-show. He’d always taken the easy way out, after all. 
But his eyes snap to yours regardless, and you have to not scream at him as he does. 
“What?” He hisses, motioning to you with the gun with a limp arm. “You wanna weigh in, then? I did this for you and you went and ruined it!” 
“I know I did, baby,” you breathe, alarm bells blaring. “I’m sorry—I just wasn’t thinking. I wanted you to fight for me.”
Your throat simmers with bile.
What were you saying? You had no idea, but it played into Graham’s weaknesses. Maybe Simon had rubbed his casual strength over to subjugate your brash sarcasm and brutish aggression. 
Simon.
God, thinking about him made you want to cry. 
“What are you talkin’ about?” Graham intently listens, the gun shaking. “Don’t….Don’t fucking play with me right now,” he warns, growling. 
“I’m not playing,” you raise your hands up, the cast protecting one wrist, but the other had the harsh plastic suffocating your veins like it was a supple neck under a cougar’s jaw. “I’m not. I got with Simon because I wanted to make you jealous—at that party?” You suck down a fast breath. “I wanted you to swing on him, yeah? I know you could have made an example out of him.”
“Course I would have,” Graham mutters, pushing his hand up over his face to clear it of the sweat and crimson droplets. “Lousy no good mechanic with a shitty bike.” 
“Graham, can you cut off the zip-ties, please?” He laughs and shakes his head immediately.
“I’m not that stupid there, Sweetness.” Your jaw clenches, anger spiking. 
“I never said that you were,” you snapped desperately, hospital gown all dirty and your bandages hanging off of you like you were a mummy trapped in a tomb. It didn’t sound that far out of place. “You’re hurting me.”
The floors creak as you shuffle, moving your body forward trying to stand on bound ankles. It doesn’t work. Your ears twitch above the rumble from the clouds far above, past the hole-filled roof, to the sound of an exasperated scoff. 
“You’ll live. Now be quiet and let me think—you’ve made a mess of everything.” Adrenaline gives everyone a high like no other. It happens fast and can start up from the adrenal glands in mere moments when under stress or danger; when it leaves, it can result in lightheadedness, and trembling. Go long enough to where you can get it out of you entirely, it can even lead to tiredness. 
Three hours pass, and it’s storming outside as Graham is sleeping near the door. Curled like a wolf, the silver glint of the magnum is still clutched in his hand, fingers loose like worms as his face twitches. You had waited the past hour to see if he would wake up. 
Now it was time to act.
As you slowly hobble to your elbows and knees, dragging yourself along the cigarette-coated floor, you collect dust like the knick-knacks in your home. Taking small and quick breaths, your eyes lock with a sharp piece of glass as your agonizing injuries pull and break open. Blood is so heavy in the air that it’s able to be tasted on your tongue—coated so thick even the deluge of rain can’t get rid of the stain. 
Graham mutters in his sleep, and your heart beats far into your mouth; body locking up as your gaze flashes over to the twitching shadow. Lightning flashes outside as you slowly start back up again—one eye always to the side and the pupils smaller than a spec of dirt. 
You lick your lips, creeping onward until you can reach out your fingers and slice them on the side of the glass. Your lips hold tight a whine of pain, hand clenched over the material as you twist it around and line the edge up with the zip-tie. 
Your breath is all you can hear—loud inside of your head before the sawing motion makes the cuts over your hands grow deeper the more you press into the plastic. Welts had burst by now, puss seeping to the ground as the zip-tie around your wrists popped with a snap of hard material. 
A yell of achievement is kept inside of your sputtering chest as you shove your leaking palms to the wood, rolling to your back and bending your knees to bring your ankles upward. 
The second tie snaps just like the last, and your limbs roll themselves in circles to get the circulation back as quickly as possible, gaze jerking back and forth to Graham as your pulse roars. 
Run. Run. Run. 
Every rush of your blood sings the same order. 
Lose him in the storm. 
Your legs wobble as you shove yourself up, the glass still held in your hand—an infectious thought entering your body as you stare at the magnum. Stumbling, your bare feet steady themselves as your shoulder knocks the back wall, face contorted inwards. 
How hard would it be to steal it? He was sleeping. 
Blinking away the black fireworks in your vision, you look from the broken window to the door, remembering the bike crash as the rain seeps in from the roof. Water splashes as the minutes spread like crimson pools. 
Graham’s troubled face shifts as he groans, and you’re already out of the window with a slide of glass and a slap of wet grass. 
You’re running through the forest as if a deer, crashing through undergrowth and slipping down ravines. The gown and the trailing bandages have long been soaked, heavy in their own right—a second skin hanging off as your blood gets washed away by the rain. You don’t know when you started crying, but the sky’s tears bled with your own exceptionally well. 
There were multiple times when you swore there were footsteps behind you—right on your tail as your blurry vision finds phantoms in the bushes and the leaves as they fly up behind you at a kick of your mud-covered feet. 
You didn’t have a destination, and as far as you cared, you could die in these woods happily as long as Graham never had the chance to make a decision. In the end, his own ability to fuck himself over never had the chance to change—thank God.
A hand slams on your shoulder. 
Half a scream is stifled, as another is leveled to your mouth—your body is yanked to the side. Dragged behind the bark of a tree, lightning flares overhead as if as shocked as you were, arms and legs kicking out. 
There’s a stiff grunt, and large biceps that curl your waist. Words are about to be uttered into your ear canal before your teeth chomp down on the thick material of padded gloves, eyes wide with blurry panic. 
“Sunshine!” You don’t listen over your muffled curses, nails clawing into a forearm as your casted limb aches. 
Whirled around, your spine finds a trunk, and you snarl before, once more, “Bloody hell, Sunshine, it’s me!” 
Finally able to see who was keeping you hostage, your struggling halts with a knee halfway up and ready to send full force into a crotch. You blink multiple times, panting into the palm before the hand drops entirely and you can take down fragmented breaths.
A skeleton-painted balaclava is only a glimpse before those October eyes suck you in. 
Simon and you stare at one another as the storm rages on.
He was in all black—straps and holsters clipped onto his thighs and chest above a combat vest that you’d seen in military documentaries on TV; a compression shirt under a water-resistant covering rolled up to his elbows. And guns.
Guns at his thighs, a rifle at his chest, a knife at his belt. 
Simon Riley was dressed for war. 
You stutter, eyes beady as you open and close your mouth. 
Wasn’t he supposed to be in the hospital? How did he find you?
“How…” You blink as the man’s concerned eyes scan you over, rage shimmering in his expression as water saturates his mask. His gloved hands settle at your shoulders and squeeze before they move once more. “How did you…?”
“Let me look,” he mutters, touching your wrist and bringing it up. Your mouth shuts tight, flinching. Simon halts and quickly glances back up with a simmering gaze. He doesn’t move, and when he blinks, whatever anger that was mounting is re-hidden back behind the void of his irises. You stare as his browns melt. 
“Can I touch you, Love?” Water slaps your head but the barrier of trees helps slightly. The question was one of the most important he could have asked. 
You nod, but he still waits. 
“Yes,” your voice pushes out. Simon’s large hand recaptures your flesh like a precious object, twisting it around. 
He tenses at the blood, and, just like the realization outside of the vandalized shop, he tells you quietly, “You’re shaking.”
“Simon,” your lips wobble, sniffling. 
Your body is shielded in an instant. 
“It’s alright.” He breathes into your scalp—you feel his pulse, his hard surety; this wasn’t a hold that was quick to leave. “I’m ‘ere, I’ve got you. We’ll be alright. Focus on me, Sunshine. Focus.” 
It wasn’t soon after that those arms separated for a moment, the velcro of a vest in your ears before a rain jacket is carefully, yet quickly, pulled through your arms and zipped up. The rifle is leaning against a rock as the hood is pulled to protect your visage from the downpour. But the rain is the last thing on your mind. 
Screaming echoes out over the night and you gasp, head jerking up to the trees as the yowls vaguely take the incorporeal shape of your name on the battling wind. 
Simon growls, hand coming up to rest beside your skull on the trunk as he leans over you, gazing off into the night. 
“Stay still,” he utters into your ear, the compression shirt tight enough to make the bulk of bandages easily visible all along his arms and shoulders. A pistol is held loosely from his free hand—his fingers twitching around it as numb eyes move along the open spaces of forest. 
Not about to muster a response, your fatigued and addled mind begins to blank of all else but the scent of muddled oil and metal; tattoo ink. 
Simon grips you closer to his chest as the wrathful calls bounce on air-waves like arrows right to his building fury. The man’s jaw clenched tightly—body shaking not from the chill but from restraint. 
He’d broken out of the hospital with one goal: track you down and get you back. Anything else was an added pleasure that the veteran had mulled over as he busted out his old gear and strapped himself with whatever he might need. 
Everyone’s only concern was with how he was still shaky on his feet after the crash, but in reality, Simon barely noticed. The minute he’d heard you were gone, all bets were off. 
No one had clung to military life more than him, not even Price. 
No one messed with someone he cared about and got off scot-free, even if it ended in a life sentence in jail. Eating a meal was too good for Graham Whitaker—breathing was too good.
But before all of that dark work, first came you. 
Nothing else was touching you. Ever. 
So the rushing feet weren’t much of a concern to the man, truth be told. Simon clocked the fool a mile before his huffing was etching like a point through the storm, cheek to your scalp as you shiver and shake, fingers curled into his shirt as your eyelids flutter.
He needed to get you medical attention—clean those wounds. 
But Graham. 
“No!” His screaming continues, stumbling through about ten feet away—the glint of a gun at the fool’s thigh unmistakable. “No! I was asleep for five minutes!” 
Brown eyes don’t blink as they watch, feeling you tense and tighten even at the phonics of the man’s speech. 
“Don’t look, then, yeah?” Simon utters softly. The sound of the safety being flipped off on his gun was drowned out. Your mind barely comprehends the words, all of it slurring together as Simon’s hand curls your skull and covers your ear above the hood. An oil painting smeared by blood-coated fingers that hold you so sweetly. “Easy. It’ll be over soon.”
You get drunk on it as you nuzzle your face into his neck. Simon’s focus threatens to give way before he blinks at the scene ahead of him.
Graham twists in a circle, nearly sobbing as he yells even more and grips one hand into his hair, pulling harshly. It was like watching a toddler having a tantrum, though this was far more serious. And deadly.  
But all of that searching wasn't for nothing.
Simon lets his eyes lock with Graham Whitaker only once, and even then it was a mere glance. A Ghost deserves nothing more before it disappears back into smoke. 
Panicked widening, an arm seizing up. 
It had been for more of the mechanic’s benefit than anything else—torture in its own right as a rabbit stares down a wolf and its foaming maw. Simon was never reckless; never eager to kill even back then. It had been his job, and he’d done it tactfully—resourcefully. A dance of instinct and sheer nuance to get the ques down that had taken him decades to perfect. Training like that didn’t just go away.
People only saw him coming if he wanted them to.
And Simon desperately wanted this man to look into his eyes as he pulled that trigger. Not even the maggots would want the body he gives to them.
You both lay in bed, silent. 
The sheets are warm with body heat, and the cast around your arm had only come off two days ago—the flesh sore and the muscles weak. Around you, hard limbs are anchoring you to a chest filled with scars; scars you’d memorized easily as you traced over them like a painter with her favorite brush. 
He wouldn’t tell you the stories behind them, and you have to admit you were relieved about that. It was the past, after all. 
This moment was for the future.
“Want you to work with me in the shop,” Simon mutters as he stares into your eyes. You blink, brows lightly furrowing before his hand comes up and his digits brush your cheek softly. Your lashes flutter at the scrape of calluses as he continues in a low grumble. “Custom detailing.”
“...And will I be paid for this?” You ask him, teasingly—delicately. 
“As much as you want.” Simon isn’t joking. “More than what the fuckin’ bar can give you,” his breath moves over your pulse, making you shiver.
Your half-lidded eyes stay locked into those endless voids, his slow blinking waiting for an answer as the bulk of his belongings sits in the corner of your room. 
“Haven’t even finished the mural yet,” you huff. “Eager to get me next to you?”
“Yes.” Simon moves forward, and, without the need to hide himself from you, presses his lips to your chin, head dipping to tilt your face and allow him access to your neck. You hear him nearly purr when your fingers card his hair, nails set into his flesh.
“I make pretty good tips, Brown-Eyes.” Fingers pulse at your hips, slipping over flesh. 
There’s no reason to keep talking about this—your answer is already obvious—but the both of you enjoy this endless chase. 
Something new and, for you, something to make your feet stationary.  
Simon had taken out his CB1000R for the first time for your date yesterday, his eyes avoiding yours as you’d asked why he’d been five minutes late. He’d said it was because he’d been checking the motorcycle over all day—re-checking it once before coming over with a knot in his intestines. 
There was the very obvious change of two helmets, as well. You had thought you’d be hesitant to get on a bike again, but the feeling of Simon’s body in front of yours was more of a comfort than anything that came before. The wind at your sides as he’d driven far slower than ever—glancing back nearly every minute to make sure you were alright. 
Big teddy bear, you thought affectionately.
“Can give you a better one,” Simon jokes crudely in your bed, grunting like a beast. Your lips let loose a snort, head flopping down to rest on the top of the man’s skull. At his back, your fingers play with the brunt of his old scars as well as the new ones that are still and an angry red; barely closed.
“That was horrible.” Simon shivers under your study when your lips mutter your amusement.
“A bit.” He smirks. “You givin’ me an answer, Sunshine?”
This would be the last chance to get out of this town—say no and disappear, never to be seen again just like the hundreds before you. What life could you have out there? What could you build differently—build like a pack of wooden blocks and poke at before they fall down?
What could you nurture what you already had blooming?
You sigh, arm moving back to perch under Simon’s neck. Pulling him back, you tilt his head to meet yours as he hums, kissing him on the lips and taking his freedom as your own. Simon’s hand spans your spine as his fingers spread; the stretch of his tattoos corrupting your soul one atom at a time as he opens his eyes to watch.
A loyal sin had never tasted better. 
You ease back and whisper over his open mouth, “Yes.” 
October eyes consume you whole.
This town is small—it talks. Everyone knew what happened to Graham Whitaker; everyone knew who killed him. 
But small towns always have big secrets that no one ever discusses. 
They never found his body, and the boys had all made sure they never would. So, to this day, the bastard is still listed as he should be:
MISSING: GRAHAM WHITAKER
Dangerous individual believed armed and dangerous. Do not attempt to approach.
Information? Contact your local police force at the provided number below. 
Celina and the rest of Graham’s goons never showed their faces again, and even then, there was no evidence to directly tie them to anything beyond the loose connection to the vandalism.
Of course, the bar was always bustling, eager to speak about it even when ivy had crept over the telephone post flyers and hidden them from any eyes. That one cold case that was ingrained into its history until something else came along—told on long nights to ease the bored atmosphere of passing folk and crumbling buildings. Grumbled over the raw scent of black metal and grunted at the rim of a Neat Kentucky Bourbon.
The twitched smirk over those lips is always a staple, though, and so is the brown-eyed look passed your way as you sit content under the stretch of his arm, art journal open to yet another page as the appointments piled up. 
You haven’t shown him yet, but all of your sketches are of him.
Tumblr media
TAGS:
@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @aldis-nuts, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot
893 notes · View notes
girl8890 · 1 year
Text
JK | Virgin Sacrifice
⭐️ Currently #1 Post On My AC ⭐️
word count: 7.7k
Tumblr media
Summary: Since the day you were born, your parents prepared you for your sacrifice. The whole village knew, and with that everyone stayed away from you. Thinking even just looking at you would make the demon in waiting mad. The demon that has been praying on you since birth, but not for what you expected. 
Paring: Demon!Jungkook x Virgin!Reader.
Genre: demon!au, virgin sacrifice, smut, angst
Rating: 18+
Warnings: neglectful parents, grooming, minor character death, jealousy, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, big dick!jk, marking, biting, rough sex, one-sided love, stalking, murder, blood
A/N: In the spirit of Halloween coming up, I’ve written this story. By that I mean the scenario has been in my head for months and I finally decided to write it out. It’s different than what I usually write, but I really like the scenario of demon JK being in love with the person he’s meant to eat. I know I’m weird, but I guess it’s better than being normal and boring. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fic. Comment below if you want or message me through the request/ask button. I love to stay connected with you guys, and I’m sorry I haven’t been heavily active a lot lately. i’ve just been really busy with work, school, as well as an internship. I’m trying to be more active. Okay… I’ll stop talking now… Enjoy the fic! 😊
。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。
You always dreaded turning eighteen. You always dreaded turning the age that meant your death.
It was on the day of your birth that you were chosen. Chosen to be your village's sacrifice to the demon that stalked your town for decades before you were born. He came in a puff of smoke and chose you. Saying you were the next human he would take so your village would stay unharmed for another hundred years. You never saw the demon, and even if you did at the time, you were only an hour old, so how would you remember it if you did? But the whole village saw him. Heard him cast you as the next sacrifice for their prosperity. 
You've been told since day one what you need to do and how you could ready yourself for him. Not understanding half of the measures, but also never getting answers. Your parents always treated you neutrally in the family since they knew what would happen to you one day and not really caring what you did with your life because of it. 
Well... they did care about one thing. 
You had to stay a virgin.
This was a request from the demon himself, but it was never asked from him before. You were the first. 
The sacrifices were always female and cast when the girl was born, but making sure you were a virgin was a first. And this first was also promised by the demon to be his last casting.
You will be the last sacrifice ever taken from your village if you stayed a virgin until the day of your reaping. And you did stay a virgin, although no one in your town gave you a choice on the matter. 
Everyone knew who you were because of the demons declaring, so no one pursued you. You were close to defying the rule one day when some travelers came into the village. They didn't know who you were or who you were meant to be. One traveler took your first kiss. You would have let him take more because you were always angry at age sixteen. Always mad at knowing you will one day die, and you'll never be able to enjoy the act of lovemaking. 
So, you were going to let him do whatever he wanted to you out of spite, but the second his touches became more intimate. Just when his hands caressed the sides of your breasts. His eyes, once as blue as the sky, turned as black as night, and he ripped himself away from you like you were on fire and left you there bewildered. 
He died the next day. Suicide they say. Jumping off a cliff into the pile of jagged rocks, they say. Killed by getting stabbed by a sharp rock into the stomach at the bottom of a trench. 
You didn't see the massacre, but you didn't need to. You could smell the blood from a mile, and that's how you knew his body was not just simply stabbed, and there was no way it was suicide. You saw it in his eyes that night. He was murdered.
Since then, you knew you were being watched. Not just by the people in the village, or your parents, but by the demon himself. You weren't sure why he cared so much that you stayed a virgin, or why he looked after you the way he did, but it angered you for a long time. It angered you until your seventeenth birthday. One year before your death.
You would think at least your parents would cry at the fact that you were dying soon, but just like yourself they groomed themselves to accept your fate. The fate that you will die by the hands of a demon in one years time.
And that years time... was today. 
The exact date you were born, on the exact time you were born, they prepared you. Prepared you to look your best for your death. Garnishing you with flowers in your hair with braids, and making you wear white to signify you're still standing purity. It was a simple white wrapping of fabric, but there was nothing underneath. Making everything easy for the demon to access for when he decides to eat every last bit of you.
You didn’t cry. You cried too much over the years to not have to on the actual day. Even while the priest prayed over you, rubbing holy water on your forehead, telling you to have safe travels to heaven after your death, you still didn't cry. Even when two men in all black strapped your arms and legs to a stone alter, making you all spread out and be in the position of an ‘X,’ not a single pass of tears crossed your eyes. 
You were completely done with it all, and were opening your arms to death. At least your village would be safe for eternity now, you told yourself. At least another girl wouldn't need to go through this in the future, you told yourself. Anything to ensure that this will all end up okay.... for everyone else but you.
-
It wasn't until a whole hour had passed, that you knew the demon was in the same room as you. There was no one left in the alter room besides you, and the only light you had was from a few candles left on the floor surrounding the alter. You only knew he was there by the smell.
It was a smell you have never smelt before. You couldn't even describe it if you were asked, but it was almost other worldly. Like a smell that was only made in his dimension, and no mortal would ever be able to copy it. But, in a way, it was comforting. Everything reminded you of death in this room, so the one outlying thing gave you this comfort. You grasped onto that comfort, and continued to stare up at the ceiling. Not caring enough to look for the demon who's about to devour you whole.
Your suspicions of him being there were confirmed, when he spoke. 
“What a lovely set up. You mortals really outdone yourselves this year.” The demon then chuckled at his own comment, and you felt your heart stutter. You’ve never heard such an enchanting voice in all your life, and it almost had you turning your head in search to find out who owned that enchanting voice, but you stayed still. Only twitching when the bindings around your arms began to itch. 
“It’s all for you, mighty demon,” You said simply. You were couched early on how to act, and what was okay to say to the demon. Saying anything course to him would just invoke a painful death, so you followed the instructions from the town folk that you thought knew the most information about this ritual. 
The demon laughed this time. You raised an eyebrow, confused on what you could have said that made him laugh this time, but finding your ears perk at the sound too. Everything about this demon so far was pulling at your senses, but your eyes stayed trained on the ceiling. 
“All mighty demon, you say? Funny thing to call me especially since you believe I'm here to eat you up.”
His last three words made you shiver, and you tighten your arms on your retrains, holding onto the tattered rope. You can tell he’s getting closer to you by the distance of his voice echoing around the room, and you're not sure what to do with that information. 
“But that is what you are, and what you will do. I - I have accepted that, and I'm happy to be your sacrifice.”
All of sudden, a gust of wind was felt. Making your stray hairs not in the braids move, and your skin crawl with goosebumps. 
“Lies,” The demon hisses close to your ears.
This time, you can’t help it. Your defense mechanisms come in, and your bindings hurt as you pull at them, but once you turn to face the demon - you freeze.
Your not sure what you were expecting. Never seeing a demon before has rendered you speechless because out of all the things you expected him to look like, you weren’t expecting that. You weren’t expecting him to look like the most handsome man you’ve ever set your eyes on.
His once static expression turns into a smirk, like he can read your thoughts, and knows that you’re thinking about him right now. You feel a soft hand caress your cheek, and twitch at the cold contact. Not expecting his skin to be soft either.
“My dear, you can’t still think after all this time that I’m here to eat you, do you?”
Your eyes go wide at this. Not understanding what else he could possibly want from you besides eating you. You’ve been prepared for it. You’ve finally accepted - although still not completely - that your death was going to be by this demon. What else could he possible want besides-
Your thoughts are cut short when you watch his eyes cast down your body. He bites his bottom lip and suddenly the cold hand on your cheek turns warm. It slowly moves down your cheek, across your jaw, and settling on your collarbone. Mapping out your features.
No… fricken… way.
“Yes, way.”
“What?” You blink up at him. Not only has all your worries been flipped upside down, making everything you’ve learned being completely unless, but he just read your-
“Yes, I can read your mind. How do you think I knew you didn’t accept this whole ordeal?” He waves his hand around like the prospect of eating or… making love to you, was such an easy one. “Did you really think I just wanted you to stay a virgin for the fun of it?”
You blink a few times, take a moment to process his words, then shout out, “Yes!”
The demon starts to cackle like a hyena. Like you thinking anything other then his cruelty was a joke. But he is cruel.
“Such a cruel devil,” You say without thinking, and instantly regret it. His laughter ceases altogether, and his smile completely falls. The eyes that once made you think the world was full of became black as night. His hand traveled up your trembling skin until it wrapped around your neck, applying slight pressure to your throat.
“First off, sweetheart. Names Jungkook. Not demon, not devil, Jung-fucking-kook.” His breathe fans your face as he talks. The demon now known as Jungkook is so close to you that he can probably see your hairs standing on end. “Secondly, your lucky I choose you instead of some other cunt with a death wish.”
Your once fearful state turns back into confusion. Jungkook backs away from your face, hand still wrapped around your throat, staring down at your defenseless form and making your squirm.
“W-what do you mean lucky?”
It’s a understandable question. In which way did any of this render you lucky? Your whole life you thought you were going to killed by a demon, and never able to enjoy any part of life including intimacy with others. Now, you were told you’re going to lose your virginity to a fucking demon that’s probably eaten girls like you for breakfast.
Yeah… no luck here.
Jungkook bites the corner of his lip, thinking over your question, but he decides to ignore it altogether. “Enough talking.”
Well, fuck me!
“I will soon,” Jungkook says, reading your mind, with a smirk. You gasp, surprised by his vulgar words.
His eyes linger running down your body again. Him licking his lips like your the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. He lifts his hand, going to touch you, and you struggle in your retrains.
“D-don’t touch me!” You say, but your words fall on deaf ears. All Jungkook does is squint at you, and continue to smirk. He slowly places his hand on your stomach over the white cloth you’ve been dressed in. The cloth you originally - and was planned - to be so he could eat you with no barer, but now there’s no barer for other things.
His hand slowly travels up your stomach to the valley of your breasts. You feel your face heat up when he brushes the sides of one of your breasts. He glances at your eyes one more time before gliding his singular finger around your breasts like he’s mapping out an infinity symbol. Teasing at what he’s going to do.
“P-please… don’t.” Even as you say those words, you don’t believe your own plead. This whole day has been about the complete opposite of what you want. The complete opposite of what you’ve wanted out of your life.
In all honestly, your done with trying for anything. He’s also a very beautiful being. Would it be the worse thing to just… let him? Maybe he’ll even let you live after. Even if, you would have let the traveler do anything he wanted to you. Why not let the person you’ve been preparing for to do the same?
His hand pauses on your sternum, his eye’s flash even darker than before, and his smirk becomes sharper. “Thinking about your last conquest, are you? How you almost let some vile man fuck you out of spite?”
Your eyes widen, and you feel his other hand travel up your leg. You start to struggle again, but not as much as before. Only moving because the feel of his hand on your knee surprised you.
Then it dawns on you that you were right. He knew about the man you gave your first kiss to. A guy that you barely even remember, but was significant enough in your life to remember what happened to him.
“You did it, didn’t you?”
Jungkook doesn’t need clarification on what you mean. Of course, he was there. You knew he was, but you just wanted to hear the demon say it himself.
“If you only heard his thoughts about you that day, you would be thanking me instead of giving me that death look. You should actually be thanking me.”
In no way were you going to thank him. Instead, you set your jaw tight and once again yell, with more urgency this time, “Don’t touch me!” Not wanting to feel the hands of a murder on your skin.
Instead of doing what you ask, his hand travels further up your leg until it reaches the inside of your thigh. Making your core clench when his hand touches a part of you that no one, but you had ever touched before. You swallow, hating your bodies reaction to the new feeling.
“Enough talking about him,” Jungkook hisses at you. “Enough talk altogether. I’ve waited far to long for you, and I’m not waiting any longer.”
Before you could figure out what that meant, you gasp when his fingers touch your mounds for the first time. You don’t even realize how wet you were until he does. Maybe it was something he did to you. He can read minds, after all, but you have to bite your lip super hard to stop yourself from moaning when his fingers start to work you over.
You keep wanting to tell him to stop touching you, to stay away from you, but all that comes out is whimpers. His, clearly experienced, fingers working your neglected pussy over without even entering you yet. Flicking at your clit, rubbing at your entrance, and applying pressure in all the right places.
You feel a tear fall down your face, and you look away from him. Shutting your eyes, and trying to think that you’re anywhere else but here. His hand that was placed on your sternum then suddenly lands on your face. Gripping your chin and turning your face back to him. Jungkook’s face is once again inches from yours, and the heat of his breathe makes your eyes go wide open.
“None of that,” He says. And then his fingers are entering you roughly. Making you see stars and arch your back up into him. Your chests hitting, and you don’t even register that his lips are on yours until a minute has passed.
Soft lips colliding with yours roughly and impatiently. Like he wants to consume your entire being with one kiss. You moan into his mouth when his once singular finger turns into two, and this reminds you of all the times you were to afraid to do just that. Now looking back at all the times you pleasured yourself at night, maybe your body knew this would come.
That you would need to stay clean even from your own touches for the demon above you. Stealing your breathe away with kisses, and plunging his fingers inside you on repeat. It’s all so overwhelming. The smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. It has you tipping over the edge faster than you ever thought possible, to the point you almost shout out his name as you orgasm. Luckily, you had some composure to hold yourself back from doing so. Not wanting to give him complete satisfaction that his name was what you wanted to scream in euphoria.
Jungkook could tell, though. That you held yourself back. Even though watching you come undone was quite literally the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, it’s clear by the way his eyes twitched that he wanted to hear you say his name. That he’s been waiting for you to scream out his name as you cum.
Suddenly, and with no warning, he rips the cloth covering your entire body right off of you. Making you completely bare, and your nipples perk up when a gust of cool air that came from his action hits your body. Your checks were flush before from your orgasm, but you’re completely red in the face now. No one has ever seen you this bare before, especially the way Jungkook is now.
Jungkook drinks up your naked body with his eyes, and wets his lips. He’s been waiting for the chance to see you bare up close, and have the ability to touch any part of you. Fingering you was his appetizer, but the rest of you is his dinner.
He climbs on top of you, straddling your stomach, and smooths his two hands up your arms. You watch in embarrassment as he continues to gawk at you to the point you whimper. His eyes shot back to yours when he hears that sound. Smirk returning.
“By the end of tonight, beautiful. I’ll make sure the only name you’ll ever be able to think about is my own.”
“Why wou-“
Before you could finish your question, Jungkook resumes kissing you. Not as rough as before, but it once again steals your breathe away. Any words you were going to say in return, were sucked right out of you. Dizzying you further when you feel his tongue attack your own.
A moan is heard echoed in the room, but it’s not from you. Your eyes shoot open at the sound from the demon above you, and you're surprised with yourself when you want to hear it again.
His lips then detach from yours and travel south. With each kiss to your skin you quiver, and moan at the contact. Surrendering yourself to him, and giving up the victim act. You can’t deny that you want this. It’s always been a tease on your life, and always been a want of yours to feel like this. Wanted and praised by a man.
Maybe that’s why he wanted you as a virgin. To tease you from the very start and make this experience a hundred times better, and you a hundred times wetter on top of that. He smiles against the top of your chest, and you revel at the feel of his teeth against your skin.
Jungkook licks a stripe from the top of your chest back to your neck, and you receive a singular kiss there. Your feeling ten times lighter then before, and you think it’s because his lips alone have cast a spell upon you. Making every movement from him above you feel like electric coursing through your bones.
One second your feeling amazing, the next second a earthshaking painful bite gets driven into your neck. You open your mouth to let out a silent scream, and you look to see Jungkook is biting into your neck. His eyes rolling back when blood starts to pool in his mouth.
For a millisecond you think he’s going to eat you. That all his words of not wanting to kill you were lies, but then he’s detaching his lips from your skin and licking at the bumpy surface.
“Mmm - I knew you would taste sooo good.” He blinks up at you, rubbing his nose across your own. “Your everything I’ve ever wanted.”
You force out your question before, not wanting to be distracted again when he suddenly moves south on your body again. “Why did it matter that I was a virgin?”
His movements south stop at your words. His face right above your breasts, but his eyes on you. Widening for a second before he can compose himself. He cocks his head to the side, and smiles the most innocent smile that shouldn’t be on such a devilish face.
“Because I’m the only one that can have you.”
You get about five seconds to process his answer until his lips attach themselves to your left nipple. The sucking along with his tongue has your back arching up into him. His other hand finds purchase on your other breast, and you roll your head back. How is it that his hands feel so much better than your own?
It’s then, before you can stop yourself, that you let out his name him in a whimper. Unable to control the full extent of ecstasy you're feeling from his mouth and hands, and you think you’ve somehow lost a battle. But then he’s moaning against your breasts, and rutting himself against you... then your suddenly realizing your position.
He’s very hard, and very big. And that very hard and very big thing is going to enter you soon. Your nervousness doubles, but you moan again at the thought of him being inside of you. You feel crazy by just enjoying that thought, but don’t bring yourself to care.
Especially when he lifts himself off of you and strips himself of his shirt. Leaving himself bare from the waist up, and you feel your face redden again by the sight. Of course, he’s got fucking muscles. Of course, he’s cut like a god instead of a demon. He’s already handsome in the face, so why wouldn’t the rest of him make you wetter then a fucking fountain?
You bite your lip, trying and failing to look away from him and drinking your fill of this beautiful man in front of you. He smirks, the devilish way he has been all night, and looks you straight in the eyes in silence for a moment. You wonder what he's thinking, and wished you had his ability to read others thoughts. That way you could smile and smirk the way he's doing right now. As you think up all he ways he looks good. Boosting his ego by accident. 
“If I knew all I needed to do was take my shirt off to make you want me, I would have did that from the very start.” You roll your eyes at him stroking his own ego, which makes Jungkook chuckle at the fact that you just rolled your eyes at a demon, and him taking it as it was - funny. 
Jungkook bends forward, putting both of his hands on either side of your head, staring down at you. He slowly inches his face back down to you until both of your lips reattach into a gentle kiss. Each kiss has been so different.
Rough. Smooth. Gentle.
Almost like Jungkook can’t decide how to treat you. How to behave with you. You’re not sure how you feel about that, but then again you weren’t sure how to feel about all of this. Your head still spinning from it all. 
More caresses are given, and each time you get into the kissing enough, you move your hands to touch him or bend your knee to get comfortable, and then remember what you are to him. Just a virgin sacrifice. A virgin sacrifice that is now getting frustrated at the lack of action. It feels like it’s been an hour since you orgasmed last. You still feel the coating of your cum dripping down your leg, but besides Jungkook’s hands roaming your entire body he hasn’t even went down there since.
It gets to the point where even the kissing is making you ache. Is this how teasing is done? Is this how it feels when someone prolongs the inevitable? You guess so, since you’ve never been in a situation even close to this one before.
“J-Jungkook,” you say his name and it feels like your tongue is fat in your mouth. Jungkook just got done ravishing your neck and breasts to the point they are purple and red all over. The bite mark on your neck being only one of many now littered down your body.
“Yes, sweetheart,” He says with a drip of dark lust coming across his words.
Your eyes feel heavy, and your chest is heaving with air. You try your best to say what you want without completely embarrassing yourself. “When are you going to - you know?”
Jungkook bites his lip, trying to contain his laughter. He sobers quickly and fakes innocence as he cocks his head at you. “Do I know? I think you need to be a little more clear.”
You blow hot air out of your mouth in frustration, and wiggle in your restrains. “Come on, stop teasing.”
Jungkook raises a pointed eyebrow at you. “Teasing? I would never.”
Now who’s the lier.
He smiles.
“Fuck you too then.” He laughs at that. When his laughter ceases all of a sudden the aura in the room has changed. Like what was once a room full of sex and heat has turned infertile and cold.
You stare up at the demon and see something pass through his eyes. An emotion you can’t quite understand. Jungkook leans down to be close to your face again, but doesn’t touch your nose or lips this time. He pushes your sweaty hair out of your face, and pets the top of your head. Staring at you now like it’s the first time, and he's using new eyes to see.
Your stomach swirls as he does this. Like he’s looking at a lover that he’s been missing for years, and not someone he just met and is using for his own needs. Nonetheless, you drink up the loving look he’s giving you. Never being able to have that look aimed at you before, especially by someone as enchanting as him.
“I finally have you,” Jungkook whispers in between the two of you. Placing another gentle kiss on your now swollen lips. You don’t know what he meant by “finally.” You know it was always planned for him to take you, but it almost seemed deeper for him. Like he’s been waiting decades instead of eighteen years. You’re not so sure what he’s feeling, and your mind goes blank on the matter when you feel him start to rut against your core. Drawing out a long moan by you that is being swallowed by him.
Everything moves fast after that. He removes his boots, then goes right back to kissing you. He removes his pants, and you gasp when you feel the appendage that’s had your nerves spiking since the first time it rubbed against you through his clothes touch your thigh. Without even looking, you know he’s huge. Bigger then what’s considered average, and the thought has your core clenching once again at knowing someone as experienced and lucky wants you. Has wanted and waiting for you for eighteen years.
He says, “Breathe,” against your lips. And you do. You breathe through the pain that accumulates through you when he starts to enter you. Your body stretching to new heights it’s never expected to stretch to. By the time he’s bottomed out, his eyes still looking down at you with the same look as before, lips inches from touching yours, you’re feeling so full. So elated. So womanly. A feeling you never expected to be allowed to have.
Your breathing is harsh, and it takes you a moment to get adjusted to him. By the time you have, you realize he’s waiting for you. That you didn’t expect at all. Although he’s given you more reasons to like him then hate him this past hour, you can’t help but admit you thought this was always going to be a painful experience, but it isn’t. It wasn’t. Nothing even close once you’re fully accustomed to him.
Without words, you tell him, I’m ready. His eyes widen ever so slightly when he reads your mind, and once that second passes he starts thrusting into you at a slow pace. Making sure your body doesn’t feel any pain from his movements. You’re greatful for it but still confused. Innocence are like a demons favorite snack. Yet he treats you like fragile glass in this moment.
By the time you’re feeling so good, him hitting a spot inside of you that you could never reach before, you’re saying his name like a prayer, and that’s all Jungkook needs to be allowed to do what he’s been waiting for. What you’ve been expecting from the very start.
He fucking ravishes you.
Holding the end of the alter in one hand and your hip in the other, to steady himself, he piston fucks you into oblivion. You didn’t even know hips could move that fast, but then again, you’re not fucking a human… you’re fucking a demon… and you’re loving every second of it.
You wail, scream, and moan out so many profanities as Jungkook’s cock fucks into you with earnest. Your mouth not closing as each thrust pounds the life out of you. All the while his face is in your neck and only some grunts can be heard.
“Fuck- Jungkook - Shit! God!”
Your last plead somehow has Jungkook smiling against your neck.
“Trust me, love. There’s no god here.”
Maybe it’s him calling you love, or the way he explains how there’s no god in this situation. Only you and a demon. But it has your second orgasm of the night rippling through you. Your restrains tearing at your wrists, you want to hold him so badly, especially when he’s not letting up on you whatsoever. Thrusting into you like your not currently close to blacking out from how good your first orgasm since losing your virginity feels.
Losing your virginity. You’re no longer a virgin. That thought alone has you moaning to the heavens. Or maybe even hell. Your not sure since the only thing right in this world to you right now is the being on top of you.
Jungkook moves his hands so there on top of your hands still in your restrains. He only slows down to adjust himself to the new angle, then he’s back to fucking into you - faster then before. Your screaming from the overstimulation, but there’s no pain coming from your screams. All pleasure. All want, and need, and lust, and fuck!
“Fuck your so sexy, Y/n.” Your realize then that he just said your name for the first time tonight, and that has your mind coming out of the fuzz for just a moment. If he said anything else before that, your mind wouldn’t have been able to register a single word, but just your name alone has you focusing on the man above you even more.
Every sharp line on his torso. How his hips flex when he thrusts into you. The way his arm muscles jut out as he holds himself above you. Everything about his body is so erotic, not to mention his face is like the word sex was reincarnated into a being.
Jungkook’s licks his teeth, chuckling as he looks down at you. “Am I better then him?” Your heart stops. “Am I better then you imagined him to be?” You wiggle in your spot, barely moving besides when his hips thrust into you so hard they move you upwards. “I wish I could kill him again. Knowing he touched you first. Knowing kissed you first. But he never got this.” Jungkook thrusts into you extra hard to make sure you know the extent of his words. “He never got to feel how good you feel.”
Suddenly, your wrists are free. You don’t get a chance to feel relived on the matter, though, because then Jungkook is picking you up into the air and thrusting up into you twice as deep as before. Your arms are wrapped around his neck tightly, and your screaming into his shoulder as each earth quacking thrust gets driven up into you. Even his name from your lips is coming out as jumble because of the way he’s fucking you.
You scratch at his back as your third orgasm rips through you. As good as it feels, going though the roller coaster of emotions this man - demon - is putting you though, you realize he hasn’t even cum once, but you’re to much of a sweaty mess to contemplate that until another moment of rough fucking has passed.
Jungkook’s hands are full of your ass cheeks and he’s squeezing onto them so tightly that only that little bit of pain makes you come out of your dizzying post orgasm state. You take your face out of his shoulder, look at the demon that’s been making you see stars, and see something you haven’t expected or seen before.
You thought just the small grunts we’re what he does when he feels good, but his face is an entirely different story when it comes to pleasure. He must have been hiding it before, but the way his eyes are screwed shut, and his jaw is slack you can tell Jungkook is feeling just as good as you have been.
That’s why, for the first time, you kiss him first. You kiss his open mouth and hold onto his face as best as you can while still moving with each of Jungkook’s thrusts. He moans into your mouth, and it’s music to your ears now. You feel him grown even bigger - which is somehow possible - inside of you. All of this indicating that your demon is close to spilling his seed inside of you. Officially claiming in all senses.
First the orgasm by just his fingers. Then the multiple bites. And now he will claim you by pouring his cum as deep as possible inside of you.
You whisper against his cheek, wanting to drive him as crazy as he has you the entire time, “Fill me up, Jungkook. Make me yours like I was born to be.”
Jungkook hears you, widening his eyes, and then he’s slamming you back onto the alter, arms wrapped around your middle and head so you don’t get hurt by the impact, and thrusts into you so deep it's like he’s trying to split you in two. Then you feel it. The overwhelming heat inside of you as he spills every last drop into you. You start to tear up, it feels so good. Overly stretching you as each spurt goes inside of you.
Jungkook is praying it sounds like near your ear. In a different language you have never heard before. The only thing you’re able to decipher is your name being prayed along with whatever else he’s saying. By the time he’s completely emptied himself inside of you, your eyes have dried out too. Both of you breathing into each other’s necks, and looking like a mess of limbs. Your arms still wrapped around his neck, as his only get tighter around your waist.
It takes both of you a moment to look at each other, but when Jungkook makes the first move to exit your neck and look down at you again, you could cry all over again. That same look of pure love is clear as water now on his face. A look you’ll gladly see every day.
A bunch of thoughts cross Jungkook eyes that he wants to say. So many things you think he should say. But out of all the things he’s planned to say in this moment, only three words seem right. 
“You’re finally mine.”
-
-
-
Jungkook has looked over this small village since the beginning of human existence. Even before God was a known being to the mortals, Jungkook was always there. Feasting off of their prayers, until someone like God was born in their lives. That’s when Jungkook had to get creative when it came to getting praise from the mortals.
He cursed the village with his presence. Destroying it with fire until it was nearly gone, and eating up all the villagers that stood to fight against him. Each person tasting even more vile than the last. Eating humans was never a necessary thing, but it was entertaining to watch them beg for mercy before he bit a huge chunk out of their bodies. The ones that were meant to die young we're the only ones that tasted appetizing enough to have Jungkook’s gums itch for more. 
That’s how the ritual started. Every hundred years, Jungkook would search for a soul that was meant to die young, and let them live up until their eighteenth birthday. Stopping them from drying young since their paths would be changed. Each time he came to claim a victim, it was scary for the living to the point they would make their sacrifice have a terrible life, ignoring their existence, but that’s not what Jungkook wanted. He wanted to save them for awhile, but still get his praise and delicious feeding out of it.
It wasn’t until you were born, that he even considered stopping. Every hundred years he would view every mortal women that gave birth, and wait for the one that’s soul was meant to die before they turned eighteen. You had the worst way of dying. Dying by losing your virginity to the man, in fact. Him fucking you then murdering you at the age of sixteen. Some sick fuck you gave your purity too, indeed. 
But that’s not what changed his mind about the ritual, wanting to finally stop his torment on the village. Your soul was. He watched your entire life play out in a flash. Every time you laughed, cried, smiled, he watched it all.
By the time he blinked your world away, Jungkook was in love.
An emotion the demon never knew was possible for him, was suddenly fully opened up when he looked into your life. He wanted to hold you through every sorrow, laugh along with you to every joke, and hurt every person who hurt you. He wanted you to watch the world burn and then be reborn again with him. Things he never expected to want with another person, he wanted them all with you. 
To wake up next to you at daybreak, and fall asleep next to you at night fall. To watch the wars go through the motions, and be there when a new religion was created. He wanted you as his partner, his lover, his everything. 
That’s why, instead of his usual “she’s the sacrifice, see you in eighteen years” bullshit speech he’s always given, he added something new. That you were to stay a virgin until you were sacrificed to him on your eighteenth birthday, and that would be the last sacrifice the village would ever need to give.
You’re all he needed, after that. Although making sure you stayed a virgin has some selfish reasoning to it, since Jungkook didn’t want you to get any physical affections - especially like that - from anyone but him, but also, the fact that the person that was meant to kill you was also the person that would take that gift away from you.
He watched your entire life play out in front of him, and he watched every second of it in real time too. From your first steps, to your first successful grade, even your first skinned knee. Times he saw you cry were always the hardest for him. Even if you were a child, all he wanted to do was reveal himself and hold you close. Keep you safe, and promise you protection forever. To at least tell you everything was going to be okay. He did sometimes. Revel himself to you, but each time he sobered you he would have to make you forget him. That made Jungkook’s own heart hurt. Knowing as soon as he had you out of his arm, you would forget his face and that he existed. 
You knew there was a demon coming for you one day, and the thought of him like that only served to radiate hate from you. Something he never wanted you to feel against him. 
But nothing, and I mean nothing, was more painful to Jungkook than to watch you be with another man. The man that stool your first kiss was a traveler from another village. He had brown hair and tanned skin. He was handsome. So handsome that no one would expect him to secretly be a ripper of the night. He would have sex with desperate women, and then kill them right after with any object he could get his hands on.
Any other person, Jungkook wouldn’t even bat an eye at him for what he did, but because he set his eyes on you, Jungkook had no problem using his powers to kill the man in the most gruesome way possible. At first, Jungkook let you play out your little spiteful game with the man. Clenching his jaw so tight his teeth almost broke as he watched and heard you feel so good by someone else besides him. 
Unlike all the times he watched you pleasure yourself, Jungkook was not smiling. He was not wishing for the day to join you. He was not happy to hear you moan or whimper as the man kissed you. And when the man went to touch your breasts, he couldn’t take it anymore.
He consumed the man’s mind with his darkness, and had the man peeled himself away from you. The look of shock soon fell from your face when you saw his eyes. It upset Jungkook a little that you were angry. That you knew it was he who stopped you from going further with this man, but you didn’t know what Jungkook knew. You didn’t know that this man would have killed you as soon as he was done with you.
Although you only knew the barest of details about this man’s death, Jungkook ripped him to shreds. Throwing his body away in a deep trench, and making it look like a suicide. It was clear by the mass of blood that it wasn’t a suicide, but your village wasn’t as advanced yet to think anything else but suicide.
Jungkook continued to watch you closely after that. Even closer then before. He was surprised you didn’t feel him somehow. Since his love for you was so strong. But you never knew he was there, at least not a hundred percent. You had your suspicions after the man you wanted to give your everything to died.
But you still didn’t know a hundred percent until your eighteenth birthday. It angered Jungkook that the village people continued to make your life feel so lonely like they did all the other sacrifices, but he also knew you weren’t going to die today. After today, you were going to be treated like a queen in his kingdom. Both of you descending back into hell together after he claimed you as his.
Claimed you as his.
That thought alone had Jungkook stretching your wait for him. Usually the second the other mortals left the room, the one you were currently in, he would devour the girl on the alter. Instead, knowing what was actually going to go down, what Jungkook actually had plan for you, had the demon feeling nervous.
Nervous that you wouldn’t let him do anything. He could force you, but as someone who was actually in love with you he could never. He would never. He would butter you up and make you see and feel his love. The challenge was… well, that. Jungkook has never needed to seduce someone before. Women would always just flock to him when he reveled himself. But you’re also not just any other women crossing his path. You’re the one who stole his heart, and locked it away as forever yours.
He knew you hated him right now. Hated, but somewhat accepted your fate with him. A fate that was never going to come. You were never going to die tonight. You were never going to feel lonely ever again.
That’s why, after pining and waiting all this time, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to mind when he enters the room you’re in.
“What a lovely set up. You mortals really outdone yourselves this year.”
Because what else would a nervous, madly in love, reputation of being god awful, demon say for the first time when seeing the love of his life? It wasn’t until you spoke to him next, that Jungkook really breathed in the situation. 
“It’s all for you, mighty demon.”
And although you meant the room, Jungkook’s cock jumped in his jeans for what he took your words as.
You — being all for him.
And by the end of the night, you were exactly that.
-
-
-
The End.
4K notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 1 year
Text
Dead Disco / Chapter 2
Chapter two of Dead Disco
Tumblr media
Simon Riley/John MacTavish/female reader 2.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI (no smut but it's inferred), feelings of fear and anxiety, depression, alcohol use, brief mention of eating/food issues, fluff, relationship issues, angst, could be considered toxic, established throuple. The guys discover you're gone.
Johnny is tired. He’s been away from home for thirty-seven days, thirty-seven long days of trekking through a jungle and hiding out in small towns, thirty-seven days of trying to ferry a diplomat’s kid from one border to another, thirty-seven days of heavy fire and artillery bombing. Thirty-seven days of fleeting touches, stolen kisses, all while being unable to feel Simon’s body against his own. Thirty-seven days of missing you.
His eyes dart around the hangar, checking for stragglers or watchful gazes. When he’s satisfied, he moves towards the driver’s side door, to where Simon is standing, arms already extended in wait.
“We’re home.” Johnny breathes, molding himself into the warmth of Simon’s body.
“Almost.” The answer is gruff, but his grip is unyielding, uneager to let Johnny go, head bowed forward, cheek resting atop the dirty scruff of the mohawk. He’s still wearing the balaclava, will still be wearing it until they get into the flat and the doors are locked, but for now, they both take what they can get. Simon tosses each bag into the back of the car, eyes pinching sour with discomfort. It’s his back again, Johnny silently hopes that the comfort of their own bed would help alleviate some of the pressure on his spine. Those awful bedrolls were rough for everyone, but especially someone as big as his partner.
“Shuid get goin’.” His mind is already wandering to you and how you’re faring. Your absence chafes them, and it’s obvious now when they’re together that something is missing, that they’re lacking a part of their connection, missing their lost puzzle piece. It wears on them during deployments, causing their tempers to string tight and worry to settle in the back of their minds. Guilt burns in the pit of Johnny’s stomach when he remembers how uncertain, how stressed you’d been when he had promised, promised, you that it would be two weeks or less.
“Dinnae worry, yeah? Back before you know it.” you wrap your arms around his waist, face pressing to his shoulder with a deep sigh. He hated this. Every time, it got harder and harder.
“Okay.” The word is mumbled into his shirt, and he runs a hand over your hair soothingly. The sound of a duffel being dropped on the floor pulls your eyes, arm reaching for its owner, your fingers grasping onto the strings of Simon’s hoodie until he's there too, broad chest pressed to your back, the balaclava twisted in his grip. T-minus ten minutes until Simon was gone and Ghost was on point, so Johnny soaked up every second, you between them, right where you fit perfectly, Simon’s warm palm resting just at the top of his spine, the rhythm of being together, feeling safe, feeling whole.
Seconds turned into minutes, and then Simon was pulling away, dragging you with him to press a kiss to your lips before picking up the bag.
“Be good.” He says with a pointed look, and Johnny fights a chuckle. “And keep the terrace door locked.” You roll your eyes, playful spirit peeking through from underneath your worry.
“Yes Simon.”
“We’ll see you soon.” Johnny wraps his arms around you one last time, meeting your mouth with his, slipping into the comfort of home one last time before regretfully stepping away.
He couldn’t wait to lay his eyes on you, couldn’t wait to strip the balaclava from Simon’s face, couldn’t wait to take a shower and feel the heat of your body, the silk of your skin.
He glanced at the digital read out of the time as Simon turned the key in the ignition and huffed in frustration.  
“It’s late.”
“She’ll be asleep. Don’t wake ‘er this time.” Simon warned, and he scoffed. He didn’t intentionally wake you last time, you had blinked your eyes open when you felt them fall into bed, and he seized the opportunity. He couldn’t help it; he had missed you too much. And while Simon might be content to just pull your sleeping form against his body and hold you there, Johnny had to hear your voice.
“Hi.” You blink blearily at him, fingers groping blindly along his stomach in the dark. “You’re wet.”
“Had ta shower.” You shift, turning onto your side.
“Without me?”
“It’s two in the morning, darling.” He hums and you yawn in response.
“Simon?” your voice was more acutely aware now, and he knew it was because you were making sure. Checking off the list, verifying that they’d both come back. To you.
“I’m here, love.”
“Mmph.” You murmur. “Missed you.” your face found Johnny’s neck, lips soft on his collarbone, while Simon slid all the way over, molding himself around your back, an arm resting gently across your two bodies.
“We missed you too.” Johnny whispers, body relaxing for the first time in weeks, muscles going loose and his brain going quiet. It was good to be home.
“We could take her out tomorrow. She’d like that.”
“Maybe on Thursday, dependin’ on how she’s feeling. I’m not plannin’ on leaving that bed for at least twenty-four hours. And neither are you, MacTavish.” Heat licked up his spine, settling in his belly while the city flashed by the windows, while he wonders how upset you are, if you’re going to be barking mad at them, or just sad, the way you get sometimes when they have to ease you back into their affection, when they have to break down the armor that grows in layers upon layers when they’re away.
“Too long, it’s been too long.” He expects Simon to agree with him, say something reassuring like he usually does, but he doesn’t respond, and Johnny looks to where he’s splitting his attention between the screen of his phone and the road. “What is it?”
“Darling?” Simon calls through the flat, while Johnny shucks his shoes and coat at the door. It’s only eight, still early in the night, and they’re surprised when you pad out of the bedroom in your pajamas, eyes red from crying, straight into Johnny’s arms. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks when you bury your nose in his chest, Simon standing on your side, gently rubbing your back, concern in his eyes. “Love, what is it?” he pulls back to get a glimpse of your face. 
“Had a bad dream.” You mumble into him, and he holds you a little tighter, Simon leaning into the two of you to press his mouth to the top of your head in a kiss. He taps his fingers down your cheek to draw your attention back up to his face, and that’s when he notices. 
How dry your skin is. How cracked your lips are. The circles under your eyes, the hunch in your shoulders. He looks up at Simon over your head, who gives him a swift a nod, and pulls you away and into his own arms. 
“What do you think… about gettin’ in the shower with me?” He hears Simon coaxing you into the bathroom while he flings open cabinets in the kitchen, looking for your water bottle. When he gets to the fridge, he swallows a groan. It’s practically empty, only harboring the usual collection of condiments, some cheese, a few avocados. But no leftovers, no meals, no protein. Your usual overflowing bounty of green things is missing. None of the kiwis that you insist on buying every single time anyone goes to the supermarket. Nothing to indicate you had been eating. 
What have you been doing?
The flat is dark. Your sweater doesn’t hang on the hooks by the door, your shoes aren’t lined up neatly in the closet. The giant fleece blanket that you always insist on everyone cuddling underneath during movie nights is gone.
The framed picture of the three of you, the one that sits on the little table in the hallway, is facedown.
The bed is made, all six pillows stacked neatly at the top of the mattress, sheets and comforter tucked into the bottom just how Johnny always makes it. Your little jewelry dish that occupies the top of the dresser is gone.
Some of your clothes still rest on hangers. Your favorite robe is still draped over the tub in the bathroom. Your tea collection is still stacked neatly in the cupboard.
A single silver key sits on the island.
Johnny feels like he can’t breathe. He feels like he’s grieving.
Simon doesn’t speak either. He just stands in the kitchen, lost in thought, knuckles white.
He loves you. Simon loves you. How could you just leave? 
He reads the infuriating email over and over again. Four sentences. Not even a proper goodbye.
Hey,
I’m sorry. I left. The key is on the island. I locked the front door.
-Darling.
“It’s a week and a half old.” Simon breaks the silence. “She sent it a week and a half ago, could be anywhere now.”
“What if something is wrong.” He wants to deny it. Wants to ignore the reality, the sinking feeling dragging him down, fingers grasping tight to Simon’s as he gulps. “What if…”
“It would be near impossible to find this place, love.” Simon says gently. He’s right. Of course, he’s right. The title is in the name of a shell company. The mortgage was paid in cash. No one would know who it belongs to unless…
“What if we had a tail? And we didn’t know… and we led them right to her.” Simon visibly stiffens next to him. It’s a slim chance. The probability of the two of them not seeing a tail is extremely low.
“Call her.” Simon orders and Johnny’s hand trembles as he pulls the contact up and dials.
It rings, and rings, and rings.
“Be patient, Johnny.” Simon murmurs in his ear, breath warm against his skin, the smell of Kentucky bourbon washing over the two of them. 
“What if she says no.” Simon grasps his chin with two fingers and pulls him in for a kiss. 
“No one could say no to you.” They both turn to look at you, slippers on, Simon’s giant t shirt falling to your thighs. You’ve got a wooden spoon in your palm, face leaning over a giant pot of red sauce that you made from scratch. You’re singing to yourself, happily, quietly, but your smile falters when you look up at realize they’re watching you. 
“What is it?” 
“Nothing.” He says, a little too quickly, and can feel the groan building in Simon’s chest. You frown.
“Ooookay.” You do that thing where you drag the ‘o’ out really long, like you don’t believe him. 
“We want to ask you something.” Simon jumps in, disregarding his previous advice since Johnny has gone and spooked you. Your eyes go wide. 
“What?” you ask warily. 
“We want you to move in with us. Officially.” Johnny blurts, too excited. “You’re here five nights a week, anyway, yeah?” You nod, holding the spoon upright, eyes flicking back and forth between them. 
“Really?” He doesn’t miss the doubt in your voice but chooses to blow by it. “But… this is your place, I don’t really like, fit here.” 
“Of course you do.” Simon assures you. Johnny pulls you into his arms, leaning back against the counter. 
“We don’t wanna be without you, darling.” He combs some hair away from your face, and then licks the spoon, earning him one of your amused giggles. 
“You don’t have to decide right now.” Simon says, tempering Johnny’s enthusiasm, and you nod. 
“Okay. I’ll think about it.” 
“Anything for last call?” The bartender taps the wood with a knuckle, and you motion to your half empty beer.
“I’ll take one more, thanks.” The bottle leaves a little ring on the bartop, sticky and wet, shining in the muted light of the mostly empty room. It’s a place with no windows, black laminate floors, neon beer signs flickering on the walls. It smells in here, like stale cigarettes and cheap beer, but you don’t hate it, and it beats going back to your empty hotel room, with the giant empty bed, and the quiet empty hallway.
If the bartender notices your appearance, he keeps quiet about it. If he realizes you haven’t washed your hair, or your face, he doesn’t say anything. All he does is nod to the fifty pound note that you’ve kept sitting in front of you, placing another neat pour of bourbon next to your fresh beer.
It’s the good kind, Kentucky. The kind Johnny wrinkles his nose at. The kind Simon loves. You squeeze the lime into the mouth of the bottle, sticky, sour juice squirting all over your fingers that you pop between your lips and lick clean, one by one, before downing the amber liquid in one swallow.
The hotel bed is a king. Not a California, like the one in the apartment, but it feels just as big with only your body in it. You sprawl in the middle of it like a starfish, trying to feel for the edges, only to come up short. It’s disconcerting, you realize. The feeling of being alone like this, not waiting, not wondering what time the key is going to click in the lock. It’s been over a week, and the uneasy feeling has still not passed. Weren’t you supposed to feel good? Wasn’t this what you wanted? You couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t do anything.
You missed them.
You missed them so much; it was hurting you. It felt like a charred hole had formed in your heart, panic and despair leaking through your body.
It had sent you down a dark path, an endless rabbit hole that just got worse and worse as time went on.
So, instead of feeling the full force of it, instead of accepting your fate, you daydream, indulging in a made-up fantasy where they find you, track you down and drag you home. Where they’re standing on the other side of the hotel room door, begging you to come back, pulling you into their arms.
It's just a fantasy. They’re not coming for you, you know that. They have each other. They don’t need an accessory to survive, or even be happy. They don’t need you.
You’re on the verge of drifting into restless sleep when your phone vibrates, somewhere in the down comforter.
You don’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it is.
You knew they’d call when they got home, when they realized you were gone.
You honestly didn’t expect it to be so long, the idea that they got held up somewhere, ran into trouble making your stomach flip. What if one of them is hurt? What if they need you? 
No. No, you’re going to be strong. You are NOT answering that phone. 
The vibrations cease. You let out the whoosh of breath you’ve been holding.
The vibrations start again.
Your heart clenches in your chest.
Come find me. Come get me and bring me home. 
No. No, you’re strong. You don’t need them; you don’t need this.
Don’t answer it. Don’t answer it. Don’t-
Your thumb hits the green button.
“Hello?” The other end of the phone is silent, and then two voices talk over one another for a second before going quiet.
“Bloody hell. Where are you, darling… are you alright? Are ya hurt?” It’s Simon’s voice, raspy in the background. You swallow.
“I’m… I’m fine.”
“Where are ye?” Johnny sounds closer, and you hold your breath.
“I… I’m okay. I’m at a hotel.” Guilt swarms you. Of course. They’re worried something happened to you. “I’m s-sorry.” Come get me, you want to scream, come get me and never leave again. Nobody speaks, and then you hear the muffled sound of a conversation. A terse back and forth before Simon is speaking into your ear.
“Tell us where you are, yeah?”
The knock on the door is loud, and you stand on the other side, hesitant.
Why are you doing this? 
The knock comes louder this time.
Don’t be weak.  You left, remember? You left for a reason. 
You crack the door. Simon’s arms are crossed, and you can’t place the expression on his face, the balaclava obstructing the lines of his mouth that you’re so used to reading.
Johnny, on the other hand, looks torn between being on the verge of tears, and pissed. His hand darts out between the door and the frame, pushing it wider and bringing you into full view. The anger drains from his face within a second. Embarrassment curdles in your stomach. You look like a fucking mess. 
“Oh, love.” He whispers, eyes softening. Fuck, don’t cry. Keep it together.
“Hi.”
“Let us in.” Simon demands from behind him, and you chew on your lip. “Please. Whatever it is, we can fix it darling. Just let us in.” He gentles his tone, and Johnny reaches for your hand that’s gripping the door handle.
You’re stepping aside before you even realize what’s happening.
Gee, way to stick to your guns.
1K notes · View notes
spidercomics · 1 year
Text
𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 (𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆).
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing(s): avatar!jake x f!na'vi!reader.
Tumblr media
summary: "all the things you want to do, just relax and i'll take care of you" ─ being the olo'eyktan's oldest daughter, you rarely take time to enjoy yourself. luckily, jake knows how to make you loosen up.
contents: established relationship, talks about missing meals, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, m/f ejaculation, overstimulation (kinda).
wc: 2.59k
a/n: normally i dont like the uh, "neytiris sister" shit but, here we go ig, tried not to mention her too much, felt kinda guilty 😭😭 bear with me on this one, haven't written since april. i cant believe i wrote fucking alien sex
glossary:
"yom wutsot"; eat (your) meal/food.
"rutxe"; please.
Tumblr media
all your life, you'd strived to be perfect. you'd be constantly disappointed in yourself if you didn't exceed expectations in every task and skill you tried to master. you were also scared of failure, one of the main issues as to why you got so much stress and anxiety when stuff didn't work out as planned, or things changed last minute. it was a big problem for you, until jake came along.
jake was carefree, one; because he came from an entirely different planet, he didn't know anyone and didn't have anyone to disappoint or impress, and two; he was just a free spirit. he lived now, he did what he wanted, and he didn't look back. jake had the mindset you'd love to have.
all you ever wanted to hear was that someone was proud of you, not how you could improve, not what you could to better next time — no, you wanted to hear that you did well, make you feel like you've accomplished something, not just gotten better at it.
jake had filled that place, reminding you often how proud he is and sometimes playing extra dumb just to somehow boost your confidence. he's cocky, but he doesn't come close to the amount of skills you have, he'll admit that much.
sitting by the fire, jake didn't listen to the conversation neytiri and tsu'tey tried to involve him in. he was grateful of them trying to make him feel included, but he also felt kinda like a burden; since he restricted them from using their native tongue around him — just so he'd understand. it was nice, but unnecessary in this case when he didn't pay attention to them anyway.
he was eyeing the clusters of families and friends around the fire, but he didn't see you. you weren't there.
jake knew there was an annual feast coming up, and knowing you, it had to be perfect. you were probably working your ass of planning it somewhere, and here he was, enjoying a meal and talking to his friends.
selfish.
you heard someone walking into your tent, jake had a certain scent, and along with the way he always dragged his heavy feet around, you had heard him coming. knowing it was jake, you didn't make a move to acknowledge him.
"y/n?"
the sigh you let out before answering almost made him nervous, "ma jake."
he loved how you said his name.
"i brought you dinner."
"i have already ate." he hated how you didn't even turn around to answer him, too occupied with weaving finishing touches to decorative cloths.
"don't lie," walking up to you, jake lazily set down the bowl on a nearby surface, crouching down and resting his hands on your shoulders, "you need to take a break, you've been sitting here since morning."
"it needs to be perfect jake, the feast is tomorrow and mother keeps telling me how this is a big celebration of me completing the passage."
"everything will look perfect, don't be so harsh on yourself," jake reached over to grab the bowl of food before sitting in front of you, now in your line of sight. you didn't look up tho, not until he handed you the food and it smelled so good your insides started making an embarrassingly loud noise, "yom wutsot."
this made you look up. jake didn't use na'vi more than necessary, but whenever he did, he sure got your attention. you wanted him to speak it more, it would help him learn it better too. you grabbed the bowl, and jake let a small, smug smile grace his face in celebration.
jake let you eat without talking your ear off (as he usually would), and instead letting himself observe the beautiful patterns you've chosen to weave. he didn't understand why you were being so hard on yourself, as if the work wouldn't be appreciated no matter how it looked. maybe not by your parents to a full, but by the people. you were a role model for everyone already, you didn't have to prove yourself anymore.
watching you stand up and moving across the tent to leave the bowl, he had been on his feet not long after — reaching for your empty hands. he engulfed your smaller ones in his own, and using the grip to start swaying with you. you let out a small laugh, before leaning your head in his neck and enjoying the solid warmth he gave you. skin on skin, jake closed his eyes, feeling your hands now laying flat against his upper back, pushing him impossibly closer. one of his hands wrapped around your waist, starting to control your swaying, and the other grabbing the back of your neck, occasionally moving your hair through his fingers.
your breathing fell in rhythm with his own, feeling the slight brush of air against the nape of his neck. your heartbeat had slowed considerably, the complete warmth and comfortable hold of jake calming you down from the stressed out state he found you in. jake's heart, on the other hand, had picked up. your fingers tracing his back sent chills up his spine, in the best way possible, and he would never get enough of how easy you made him melt into a mess.
jake was sure that you could throw a dagger into his chest and his heart would still be whole, beating for you, until his death. you hadn't mated yet, and with the frequent attacks from the rda, jake wanted it over with — to connect before it was too late, wanting to feel your souls connecting like they were meant to, atleast once.
your hands traced around his torso, palms against his chest before straightening yourself, your hands around his shoulders, swaying with him. jake was holding your waist, leaving small kisses on the top of your hair, he leaned his head down to connect his forehead against yours. he felt your tail rubbing his leg slightly, a little shocked when it circled his thigh to pull him closer, forcing your lips to meet in a kiss. jakes hands dropped lower, grabbing your hips in his hold and enjoying the slight purring bouncing around your chest when he rubbed his hands on the seam of your cloth, moving his lips fiercely against your own.
jake would do anything for you to de-stress, and if this is what it took, he wouldn't complain.
one of his hands trailed lower, a simple grip on the back of your thigh. when you playfully swatted his hand with your tail he let out a deep chuckle, seperating your lips with a smirk on his lips.
"lay down for me." it wasn't a question, and you didn't think for a second before detaching yourself from jake, laying down on the rugs and blankets displayed across the tent.
jake watched how you sat up, untying your top piece and tossing it away to the side for later. you leaned down on your forearms, legs bent, feet planted against the ground. jakes ears started immediately twitching, tail swaying excitedly. it was so easy to rile him up.
jake got down on his knees, placing soft kisses along your legs, getting closer and closer to the place you desired him the most. he took his time, if it was for his own pleasure or for the sake of teasing, you didn't know. he nipped at your soft thighs, enjoy the way your mouth dropped open, soft mewls escaping when he left small hickeys on the inside of them, claiming you, even if it was somewhere he wished no one would see them except him.
his hands found themselves untying the second piece covering you, admiring the way your cunt looked so smooth, so wet. so wet, it had him twitching under his own loincloth, he couldn't wait to devour you. it wasn't the first time he'd done this, but he still felt so giddy each time, even if what you were doing was nothing close to innocent. he wanted to be the one undressing you forever, the one to worship your body, the ground you walked on.
jake traced two fingers along your core, experimentally dipping a finger inside and feeling the way you clenched at the intrusion of his finger. he kept pushing it in, coming to a hilt and listening to your small, inaudible mumbles. he pulled it out, toying with your slit as your chest heaved slightly, heartbeat racing significantly.
"ma jake, rutxe," jake pushed a finger in, pulling it out again, and redoing the same motions. his thrusts became steady, and brought you immense pleasure. his thumb traced along your cunt, landing on your clit, rubbing slow circles around it.
it was a sight for sore eyes, your wet cunt, only for him to cherish, twitching and clenching around his fingers, sucking him in for more. you had him absolutely entranced. he would stay in this position forever if he could.
"jake, please, can you just— oh," his tongue replaced his eager thumb, licking a stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal. his thrust had picked up, adding a finger, he watched your back arch up a bit, your eyes closed from the new added pressure against your already slick walls.
jake payed close attention to the soft sighs and mewls you let out, adjusting his fingers to reach even deeper. jake felt his chin covered in your essence, and he wondered if any other man had found themselves lucky enough to be in his position. a man could only dream to find themselves between your thighs like jake is, tasting every piece of you, cherishing your body with more love than his heart could withhold.
his fingers found the spot inside of you that made your hand desperately grasp at his soft hair, the shorter strands getting caught between your fingers, pushing him closer to your heat. he let out a satisfied groan, enjoying the way you pulled on his dark locks, fingers digging into his scalp.
the thrusts of his fingers were calculated and steady. a slowly increasing pace, with a force that made your body shiver, and a hand laying hard on you hip, sure to leave a purple mark in the morning. every prod and drag had a coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, a fire growing inside of you. the soft pleas and sighs, along with the wet squelch from his constant thrusts had his dick twitching. he was so hard, he started considering rubbing himself against the rug for the slightest pleasure.
the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm washed over you. the long-awaited feeling that had you absolutely seeing stars. as cliche as it was. a hand wrapped around your wrist that was in his hair, a soft kiss was placed against your palm and then you felt the man that had spent minutes between your thighs grabbing you, pulling you up and out of your hazy state to sit in his lap.
your mouth dropped open from the overwhelming feeling of his bulge against your bare sex. quickly detaching yourself, sitting up on your knees to calm yourself down before taking it any further. jakes hand rubbed against your head, fingers tracing from the top of your head down to your neck, waiting for your body to relax.
"you good?"
"mhm, felt so good jake, you're so good," jake didn't know if you would even remember this conversation, but it still left him a little flustered. your praise always had that effect on him, his ears falling flat. jake felt your hands reaching behind him to untie the cloth covering him from you, his eyes falling shut when your smaller hand touched the tip of his dick, "so pretty."
your eyes were casted downwards, your words merely a muttering to yourself. regardless of him hearing it or not, it was true, and it left his eyes falling shut from just the smallest pressure on the slit of his tip. leaning against him, you rubbed yourself on his dick, his hands had find solace on your hips, your knees constricting against his own. your head was leaning back, jake's forehead laying on top of your chest, eyes closed in pure pleasure.
his cock bumped against your clit, leaving your mouth open in silent moans, jake striving to keep doing the same movements over and over again. you wondered how something could feel so intimate and wonderful, without even connecting queues. your hands held the sides of his throat, fingers splayed across his jaw. keeping his head bent down between your breasts, a few kisses left on your soft skin.
"can i...?" you looked down at where jake was preparing to line himself up with your slick entrance, an eager nod from you left him pushing inside slowly, a groan leaving him when your tight walls sucked him in more and more, deeper and deeper, "so tight, so good for me... oh fuck— such a good girl, taking me so well."
you barely heard the last part, his voice breaking into small pants when you moved yourself up and down on him, the back of your thighs slamming down on his with every drop of your body.
"don't hold back on me baby, i wanna hear you," with his encouragement, you let yourself be a little louder, still aware of the people around the camp, outside of the tent. jake didn't seem embarrassed at all, rather proud of having you instead, glad to let as many people as possible know that he's the only one who can have you this way. you were his. with or without the bond.
beginning to set an alright pace for yourself, you let yourself relax further into his hold, feeling every shift of him against you — inside you. the way he grabbed your hips, ragged breaths fanning across your bare chest, small kisses being placed across your breasts and nipples, rough from the night air nipping away at your damp bodies.
jakes hand found its way back between your legs, his thumb rubbing slowly against your clit, bringing the pleasure to new heights. your mewls got louder, your tail wagging behind you in sharp twists, ears flat. he knew you were close, he'd seen the sweet sight before him too many times. he glanced up at your pretty face, forehead glistening from the overhead lights, sweaty from the long session of pleasures. jake hadn't even noticed his own orgasm coming, too distracted by the way your eyes closed shut, mouth open in the sweetest form of intimacy. he wanted to hold you in his arms forever.
"ma jake," your hand drifted to grab the back of his head, soft hair back between your fingers, bringing him back to the scene, the image of his dreams playing out in front of him. you were so close, desperately wanting the man who was all around you, in you, to be with you at the finishing line, "come with me jake, please, need you jake," how could he possibly resist you? resist your pleas?
"i got you, let go for me." he held you close, thumb circling your clit with more pressure as you writhed on his lap, body falling limp against him, face tucked into his neck. the way you clenched around him had him coming seconds after yourself. hand petting your hair, words of affection all around you as his other hand traced along your spine.
he couldn't wait to have you like this forever. officially.
Tumblr media
© 2023, spidercomics - all rights reserved.
2K notes · View notes
icanseethefuture333 · 7 months
Text
PAC: Urgent messages from your shadow self 🕷🕸🖤
Tumblr media
Please leave a tip if you can $$$
Trigger warning: These tarot cards contain graphic content (gore, syringes, etc.) and in this pac there is mentions of trauma, substance abuse, inner child wounds, etc. The tone of the words will also sound blunt because the shadow self is brutally honest. Viewer discretion is advised.
Pile 1:
Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé & Shakira
Special by Ashnikko
Black Swan by BTS
Tumblr media
Four of Fire, Two of Air, & Daughter of Air.
(Clarified by Adjustment)
Your shadow self wants to urge you to find balance within yourself and your life. Perhaps you are someone who is constantly juggling with tasks, hobbies, or responsibilities. You are being a "jack of all trades, but a master of none". You don't know how to multitask and yet you are still trying to do it - why? You are overwhelming yourself. Take smaller steps vs trying to finish everything all at once. You are making yourself sink into this hole of frustation on your own. In the future, you will just make things more difficult if you persist in this charade of yours. Your shadow self is giving you a kick in the butt because you rely too much on charm when you mess up or to get away shit. Also your "white lies" could turn into big lies. If you needed a job per say, this behavior could have you looked down and be seen as unprofessional. There's a lot of visuals regarding the circus. Such as the acrobats or fire tamers. You are talented and witty. Use your wits to find ways to accomplish your goals. I am also being reminded of the scene from Mulan where she unsheaths her swords and you can see her reflection. Perhaps you have a duality to yourself that you are unaware of. You need to look into the lightness and darkness of your soul. What are your light or shadow attributes? Your strengths or weaknesses? Think of what they are and write it down, then create a plan. Once you have decided what to do or how you can make better decisions. You will start to make progress in your journey. The girl is walking on a tightrope with a stick and bowls(?) on her head. This could mean you literally need to "tighten up" which is an expression of handling your business basically. There is birds flying behind her. Your spirit guides and higher self are supporting you as you walk towards your destiny. Be patient and grounded. You will feel proud of yourself in the end and feel grateful you learned this lesson. (Clarifying song: Libra by The Deli) You could be someone with Libra placements or you need to surround yourself with people that are this sign. This could also mean embodying the traits of Libra. They are known for their balance, diplomacy, fairness, friendliness, & charm.
Pile 2:
Assassin by Au/Ra
Cellophane by FKA Twigs
Go To Sleep by Bearson ft. Kailee Morgue
Tumblr media
Five of Water (reversed), Seven of Air, & Son of Earth
(Clarified by The Magus (reversed).)
Tsk tsk. You're self sabotaging. What's going on, pile 2? I feel like you're trying to get over past disappointments but things keep crumbling and falling apart in your very eyes. You could be dealing with depression right now or you're avoiding the world because of this fear of yours. You could be laying in bed a lot or sleeping more than usual to cope. Some of you could have gotten rejected by someone you really liked and are thinking the worse as if it's the end of your love life. There's over 8 billion people in the world, it's not the end unless you act like it is. There could be so much abundance ahead of you if you would just stopped being so inconsistent and indecisive. Reflect as to why you're afraid, why are you self sabotaging, why are letting your life past you by when there's a whole world out there ready to be explored? (Clairifying song: NO PROBLEM by Nayeon ft Felix of Stray Kids) Whatever you dealt with is not happening to you right now. You survived baby. Sometimes it's good to be single because you can focus on putting that love towards your own heart. Try to focus on having fun vs finding the "one". You'd be surprised by how many people will be knocking at your door when you realize how much of a catch you are. Also stop comparing yourself to people on social media. Learn to see past people's illusions and understand they only post the positives of what's going on their life because they're scared of being vulnerable or seen as a failure. You are gonna do just fine if you focus on your own happiness.
Pile 3:
Dëserve It by Yeat
I'm Not Sorry by imagine Dragons
Element. by Kendrick Lamar
Tumblr media
Three of Earth, Eight of Water, & The Universe
(Clarified by The Fool)
You usin' work and self achievements to cope huh? You're always working so hard to accomplish things, but have you ever took a minute to realize that you are already accomplished even if you don't succeed? (Clarifying song: No L's by Smino) Why do you always need to win? What's so bad about losing? Loss can be scary, but it can teach us valuable lessons in life as well. You fear of being seen unsuccessful, a failure. You don't want to be the gossip in your town, at your job, or family functions. Everything you do, you just work and work. You not addressing the problems in your life. What are you working for? You have money, you have trophies, you have awards, you have a long list of achievements, you have your own place, but that is not healing you. Your valuables are just things. They are not fulfilling you emotionally or mentally. For some of you, you need to stop being a doormat just for the sake of a paycheck or being provided for. This could be someone at your job, school, etc, who is stressing you. Your shadow self wants to tell you to not let anyone make you act out of character but it also gives you permission to put a bitch in check and in their place if needed to. Start setting boundaries. You need to start treating yourself with love and care as if you were a baby. You deserve to be taken care of. Nurture your soul. Nurture your heart. Nurture your mind. If you're not protecting yourself then what is the point? Don't fall into the system of being a worker bee or give into hustling and grinding culture, to the point it's gonna harm your health.
Pile 4:
UNFUCKWITTABLE by Stunna Girl
Team by Iggy Azalea
Player by Tinashe
Tumblr media
Ace of Water, Mother of Water, & Eight of Earth
(Clarified by The Star)
Okay so I had to reshuffle for this pile because I didn't take a picture of the first cards I got so I had to redo this, so this is the last spread I finished out of all the other piles. What's interesting is that since it's getting dark I had to turn on my led mirror and use it as a lamp. It was illuminating a light onto The Star card, which I find interesting. A wish fulfillment is on its way. You guys could be manifesting something or reciting affirmations in the mirror. In the song, Stunna Girl keeps saying "I'm a stunner girl" repeatedly, stunner means to be "a strikingly beautiful or impressive person or thing". Stunna Girl has also went viral and become more popular after appearing on the show "Baddies West". You could be growing into your confidence soon and learning to love yourself unconditionally and unapologetically. You could even become more popular or go viral on social media. For some of you, you are healing generational trauma for your female ancestors. They are so proud of you! Or you could come from a family with a lot of powerful, strong, independent women. In a patriarchal society, a woman who is outspoken, knows her worth, and is self assured, is looked down upon because they are less easy to humble and manipulate. Insecure men could paint you as a "bitch" or that you look "mid", to try to humble you when that is just lies. You need to know that you're a bad bitch and that you deserve the best. Your shadow self wants you to stand tf UP! Stop giving a fuck about what other people want you to do or think of you. Make them uncomfortable with your glow up. The women in your family worked and yourself as well have worked too god damn hard for you to sit on your ass and wallow in your tears. You are smart enough, you are strong enough, you are pretty enough, you are ENOUGH. Straighten up your spine and fix your posture. Walk into the room as if you own it. I don't care if you just rolled out of bed with a pair of stained sweatpants and dirty Chuck Taylor's on, you better rock it as if it's designer. Your shadow self will back hand your ass harder than Maddy slapped Cassie from Euphoria if you keep getting in your head and overthinking about shit that's not even that serious. Also, you can have anybody you want, if somebody is stressing you out - Drop their ass and move on. You deserve to be treated like royalty. Stop settling for dust! For some of you, this message could be specific, but your mother is very proud of you or you will be set free from a mother wound. You need to read a book (48 Laws of Power and The Art of Seduction for example) or head to the books if you are a student. Also in your love life, you will not be getting played anymore, but you will be the player (not talking about breaking people's hearts or cheating, calm down Karen 😮‍💨). You will stop chasing love interests and they will be chasing you. Secure attachment for the win 💪🏽. (Clarifying song: Eat It Up by Kaliii ft. BIA). Eat this shit up, pile 4. All this is yours. You are gonna be living your best life soon. NSFW message but some of you will also feel more pleasure in your sex life and will feel more confident about demanding what you want in the bedroom. People will live to please you. There is a lot of fertility here, so be careful if you are able to get pregnant.
Pile 5:
For The Record by Sophiya
Up All Night by Drake ft. Nicki Minaj
Energy by Beyoncé ft. BEAM
Tumblr media
Father of Fire, Four of Air (reversed), & Nine of Water (reversed)
(Clarified by Seven of Fire)
You have a lot of passion, pile 5, but you seem to get burnt out easily when it comes to trying to achieve your desires. There is a goal that you are reaching towards that you so desperately wish to achieve to the point its keeping you up at night and causing you to feel restless. Some of you could smoke, you need to cut that down or quit all togerher because it is making your nerves really bad or making you even more anxious (could cause you to age physically faster as well). Some of you could have been ghosted by someone you fell in love with pretty quickly. Possible love bombing? There is a lot of highs and lows in this relationship. Is this a friends with benefits situation? You could have a crush on someone but you are too afraid to state your feelings, so you use your sex appeal to keep them around. You need to voice what you are wanting out of this relationship because this flame will only last so long if you keep going this way. (Clarifying song: My Strange Addiction by Billie Ellish) there is so much about "fire", "lighters", "matches", "fuses", and "smoke" being mentioned in this pile. Are you guys pyromaniacs 😂? I would hope not, if you are please seek help for that lol. If not, you guys could be drawn to the "fire" as in things that intentionally just burn you in the end. It's almost as if you get off to this toxic behavior but then when it ends, you act unstable. You need to find the courage to stop engaging in behaviors that are bad for your mental, emotional, or physical health. Also be brave when expressing your needs in a relationship, if they agree then maybe you can work it out, if not, then it's time to leave. Some of you also could have an anxious attachment or have a fear of abandonment due to a absent father. You need to do shadow work or talk with a therapist to heal that. Learn to find emotional fulfillment and security within yourself.
Pile 6:
Skinnydipped by Banks
Don't Recall by KARD
Sober by Mahalia
Tumblr media
Are you overcoming an addiction, Pile 6? Or wanting to go sober? Either way, I commend you for the strength in wanting to do so, since I know that isn't easy. This could also mean your shadow self wants you to quit doing drugs or drinking alcohol because it is making you act manic. I feel like you were treated harshly growing up or you were left with the "vultures". You could have been neglected growing up and had to learn to survive. You could of used maldaptive daydreaming to cope. Your fantasies gave you comfort in a time of stress and turmoil. I'm so sorry for that, pile 6, but you have to understand you no one is out to get to you. You can choose a new story for yourself. You dont have to be a victim anymore. You are free to start a new life for yourself. Some of you came from abusive households or were put in the system at a young age (either you were adopted or was in foster care). You could have lived in multiple places or went from house to house as a child. Did you run away as a kid? Why were you running, sweetheart? You can stop running now, take a new route. Just peacefully go towards your new journey. There is no need to rush. (Clarifying song by Come Down by Anderson .Paak & They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y) by Pete Rock & C.L Smooth) October is significant for some of you. There is going to be growth and prosperity in your life. You need to take time to nurture yourself and practice some self care. I heard "sprout" so you need to look inwards and have a conversation with your inner child. Can you remember your childhood? Do your memories seem blurry or you can't recall anything that happened? Be kind to yourself and be patient. I know it can seem nerve wracking at first but overtime you will be grateful you did it. Think of your younger self as this seed, if no one watered the plant, gave it sunlight or natural light, or fed it with fertilizer, then you can be the first to make that seed grow. Tend to your garden. This will help you build character and gain optimism. You will start to think "Hey, you know what? Maybe life isn't so bad. Maybe I can be a somebody!" And you will :) ♡ You could also be feeling very nostalgic or reminisce your youth. People could also see your growth and remember as a kid, they are going to be surprised how successful you've become to overcome your hardships. Also try to seek the professional help of a therapist or counselor if you try to unpack childhood trauma, or if you can't remember your past, it can be a sign your brain is possibly blocking you out from remembering something traumatic. Be safe and take care, pile 6 🙏🏽
Pile 7:
Run by SAAY
Monster by EXO
Just A Girl by No Doubt
Tumblr media
Nine of Fire, Five of Air, & The Empress (reversed).
(Clarifidd by Son of Water)
Oh my 😃! Wow pile 7, do you hold a grudge against the entire male population or a masculine in mind, it seems? You are acting mad bitter. I feel you have the tendecy to be a misandrist out of the trauma from your past. You feel angry that men can get away with their wrong doings while women are forced to suffer. Ironically, you are still attracted to them. You could be struggling with your divine feminine energy. You are also resenting what it means to be a "feminine". You wish to create this on your own terms. Are you apart of the LGBTQ? or consider yourself a feminist? Maybe even both? If you are someone who is a man or identifies with masculine energy, it could mean you behave feminine in a negative way (as in you "nag" or are too "sensitive"). This also reminds me of Jules in season 2 of Euphoria when she cut her hair, started wearing black, and began to feel comfortable in her androgynous style. Some of you guys are really mixed up emotionally and mentally. Like no offense, I take that back, your shadow self wants to say "full offense" - you are acting crazy. Slow down, take a deep breath, and let it go. You are valid in your pain and your emotions, but you cannot let this world make you bitter. You can't inflict pain onto other people just because you were hurt. You are not a monster, you are not the person who hurt you. Do better and be better than them. (Clarifying song: Close Your Eyes by Kim Petras & The Hills (remix) by The Weeknd ft. Nicki Minaj) I am being reminded of the scene from Doja Cat's Streets music video when she was like this spider crawling on it's web, catching their "prey" (the love interest). You are like a black widow. Beautiful to admire from afar, but dangerous to interact with up close. There is someone who is head over heels for you. You could like this person or are pushing them away out of fear. You could be the type of person who warns people before they fall in love with you (Watch the movie "It's A Thin Line Beyween Love & Hate"). You could have even sworn to never love again (Your shadow self: "bffr" 💀). You need to harness this hatred, anger, and darkness for a better cause. Use your pain as a passion to transform yourself and become someone magnificent. Like a spider, you are resourceful. Use your sources and use your intelligence to begin this new transformation. You're lashing out of fear. You're pushing people away because of your trauma. You deserve to be treated tenderly, you're not some scary creature. You are actually so empathetic, intuitive, creative, sensual, and enticing. A mystery that people want to unravel. You are a going to be a femme fatale in it's purest form.
Pile 8:
By Any Means by Jorja Smith
Feelings by Tinashe
Human by Sevdaliza
Tumblr media
Five of Fire, Nine of Air, & The Moon
(Clarified by The Hierophant)
Pile 8, why are you ripping yourself apart to fit into society's pressures and demands? When will you realize that you are beautiful in your own way? I remember when Kendrick Lamar said: "If a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it?". Not every flower grows in the sunlight or the spring or the summer. Some grow during the harsh, cold weather of the winters or when everything falls in autumn. You are in competition with no one but yourself and you are not going to win this game if you treat yourself like shit. If you wanna be a winner, then you need to start acting like one vs acting like a sore loser. When things go wrong, you are so unnecessarily rude and hard on yourself. Why is that? Ask yourself these things next time you catch yourself thinking that way. You're not anything of the mean things you say about yourself or what people have said to you. You struggle with your insecurities and cling to what gives you comfort even though you know you want better than this, you want better than what you are currently doing. Why do you stick to the same routine everyday even though you know you want change? Sometimes you have to be uncomfortable so you can be comfortable. You may compare your beauty to other people but you need to realize no one is perfect. You are human, as the song goes. A human with "flaws, veins, scars". Embrace your imperfections. You don't want to look back at your past and regret you never took action on anything because you weren't "pretty" enough. Look past your appearance and look inside. (Life Goes On by BTS) What are you are clinging to, pile 8? Are you holding onto something? You're holding sanding at this point and it's slipping through your fingers, you are stuck in this hour glass, wishing to be released. Time keeps ticking and life passes you by. Break free from the perceptions of time and start living your life to the fullest without limitations, doubts, and fears. Life has its up and downs but you have to learn to find hope in dark times. Seek help from your shadow self or the universe when you are in need of faith. Trust the divine that things will always work out for you, no matter what.
Pile 9:
Let It Out by Rico Nasty
UCKERS by Shygirl
Ghetto Gatsby by Brent Faiyaz ft. Alicia Keys
Tumblr media
Two of Love, Three of Air, & Eight of Water
(Clairifed by Ace of Air)
Time to end it with a bang 🤬🥊💥! Did you just go through a break up, pile 9? Whether it was with a friend or partner. You are internalizing a lot that happened from this relationship, honestly, you interalize everything. Your shadow self wants you to let out whatever you're feeling. Scream, shout, yell, etc. It is time to stop turning the other cheek and speak up. You also need to confront something or someone who hurt you. (Clarifying song: Fingers by Zayn & Roman's Revenge by Nicki Minaj ft. Eminem) Ugh this person is so LAMEEE 😒🙄 Once you finally get over this connection, they will want to come back and talk to you about what happened. You or this person could have been writing text messages but never sending them. This conversation will be your chance to gain clarity and communicate about how you felt in your relationship. This will help you move on and also allow you to learn to stand up for yourself.
502 notes · View notes
judespinkytoe · 3 months
Text
Coming Home
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary:Jude, your husband, comes home from a work trip
Pairings:CEO!jude x reader
Warning: Smut!minors do not interact
Genre:fluff, smut
Word count: 2k
Author's note:If there's any mistakes plz forgive me
Masterlist!
___
Jude had always been ambitious and driven. Ever since you met him in college, he had big dreams and a determined spirit. He was the kind of person who saw a challenge and rose to the occasion, never afraid to take risks and work tirelessly to achieve his goals.
When you married Jude, you knew that you were signing up for a life filled with excitement and challenges. And you were right. Over the years, Jude climbed the corporate ladder with ease, landing himself a coveted position as the CEO of a successful company.
As his wife, you couldn't be more proud. You had watched him put in countless hours of hard work and dedication, sacrificing time with family and friends to focus on his career. And it had all paid off. His company had become a household name, and he was respected and admired by many.
But with this success came a new set of challenges. Jude's new role as a CEO meant he was constantly traveling and working late nights. It was tough, but you both knew it was necessary for the growth of his company. You supported him every step of the way, understanding the demands of his job.
But despite his busy schedule, Jude always made time for you. He would surprise you with spontaneous dates, even if it was just a quick dinner at a fancy restaurant. And every day, without fail, he would call you at lunchtime just to check in and see how your day was going.
You were grateful for these small gestures, knowing how much pressure he must be under. But what warmed your heart even more was seeing how respected and loved Jude was by his employees. Whenever you attended company events or functions, his employees couldn't stop raving about him. They spoke highly of his leadership skills, his genuine care for their well-being, and how he always made time to listen to their ideas and concerns.
It was clear that Jude was not just a boss to them, but a mentor and friend. And that reflected in the company's success and growth.
But even with all this success, Jude never let it get to his head. He remained humble and grounded, always reminding you that it was a team effort and that he could not have done it without you by his side.
___
You've been eagerly waiting for your Jude to return home from his business trip.his work often took him away from home for days at a time. But this time, he had been gone for almost two weeks and you couldn't wait to be in his arms again.
You were watching your favorite tv show when you heard the front door open. You rushed to meet him, your heart beating with excitement. And when you saw him, your breath caught in your throat. He looked even more handsome than you remembered, with his impeccably styled hair, his sharp suit and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
He dropped his bags on the floor and engulfed you in a tight embrace and pecked your forehead.
"These are for you," he murmured, his voice carrying a touch of tenderness. The fragrance of the flowers filled the air, a delicate scent that whispered of purity and new beginnings.
Jude, these are... beautiful," you murmured, your heart warming at the unexpected gesture.
He grinned, relieved at your reaction. "They reminded me of you —endlessly beautiful," he confessed, placing the bouquet in your hands, his love reflected in every petal.
His lips pressed against yours, hungry and desperate. You moaned into his mouth, missing his touch and taste. He pulled away for a moment, his eyes scanning over you with intense desire.
'I missed you so much,' he huskily whispered, his hands roaming all over your body.
You could feel the fire of his longing for you, and your knees weakened at the thought of what was to come. He picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, your lips still connected in a heated kiss.
As soon as you reached the bedroom, he placed you on the bed and stood back to admire your body. You could see the hunger in his eyes, and it sent shivers down your spine.
He wasted no time in undressing you, his hands moving expertly over your curves. You could feel your body responding to his touch, aching for more.
You tugged on his shirt motioning to take it off, he got got up to undress, leaving himself in his boxers
"I need you," he growled, his voice filled with longing and need.
He climbed on top of you, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, making you moan out loud. His hands were everywhere, touching you in ways that made you weak and desperate for his touch.
whines escapes you as you feel the rough fabric of his boxers against your center, grinding against his hard member.
he chuckles against your lips at your eagerness, and without stopping kissing you, he brings his hand down, lowering his boxers. you hear the soft slapping sound of his cock against his abdomen, painfully hard, and starts grinding against your nakedness
you both moan at the touch, his precum coating your pussy as his movements become more and more erratic. your hands grab his boxers, helping him to get rid of them completely, all without breaking the kiss.
only when you’re in need of air, you leave his lips, catching you breath as you match the movement of his hips. you look down at his aching cock, moaning shamelessly at the sight.
“yeah, you like that?” he says, noticing you staring down at his cock sliding up and down your pussy, that grows wetter and wetter the more he moves. he teases your entrance when you don’t respond, his head pressing against you making you whine loudly.
“jude! ” you slightly jump at his action, and he chuckles at your eagerness.
he can’t help but stare at you in awe, so needy and perfect for him — as you’ve always been.
He entered you in one swift motion. Your hips moved with his, and the room was filled with your moans, the intensity of your connection driving you both wild.
With each thrust his desire grew, he whispered filthy words in your ear, his voice sending you over the edge. Your body arched and shook with pleasure as he brought you to your peak.
But Jude wasn't done with you yet. He flipped you over and entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips as he pounded into you.
Together, you moved in perfect sync, reaching new heights of ecstasy. And you finally reached your release. You stare at him with teary eyes as he pushes his cum inside you even deeper.
his body falls heavily on yours, his head caged on the crook of your neck as your hand finds his hair, playing with them gently. he hums against your touch as he tries to catch his breath, his arms unconsciously caging you.
You turned to him, tracing lazy patterns on his chest with your fingers. "That was amazing," you whispered, your voice still shaky.
Jude smiled, his eyes filled with adoration. "You're amazing," he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.
You stayed like that for a few more minutes, lost in each other's embrace. But eventually, reality started to creep back in. You could feel the soreness in your muscles and the exhaustion setting in. You knew you needed to get up and clean yourself up, but you didn't want to leave the warmth and comfort of Jude's arms.
As if reading your mind, Jude gently pulled away and got up from the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a warm, damp towel. He carefully wiped away the sweat and traces of your lovemaking from your body, his touch gentle and loving.
"Let me take care of you," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.
You couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his tenderness. Jude was always a passionate and attentive lover, but this was different. This was him taking care of you, making sure you were comfortable and cared for after your intimate encounter.
Once he was done, he helped you out of bed and led you to the bathroom. He ran a warm bath for you, adding some lavender oil to help relax your muscles. As you soaked in the tub, Jude sat on the edge, gently massaging your shoulders and back.
You closed your eyes and let out a content sigh. This was exactly what you needed after such an intense and passionate night. Jude always knew how to take care of you, both in and out of the bedroom.
After your bath, Jude helped you into a clean pair of pajamas and tucked you into bed. He climbed in next to you, pulling you into his arms.
"Thank you,"you whispered, snuggling closer to him.
"Always,"he replied, kissing the top of your head.
As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Jude's loving care.
196 notes · View notes
mangoisms · 5 months
Text
circle k (back to you)
Tumblr media
summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.
━ chapter twelve: back to you | read chapter eleven
━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader
━ word count: 5k
━ warnings: none
━ masterlist
━ a/n: the final part <3 my end notes if you'd like <3
Tumblr media
ten months later
“Hey, you two. Where’s your aunt?”
“Having an existential crisis on the trampoline,” you hear Irey respond matter-of-factly. 
“She’s no fun anymore,” Jai adds. 
“Well, Bart just got here so—woah!” 
Even you can feel the sharp gust of wind the twins create as they zoom off to see their cousin. Bart Allen runs at a million miles per hour—metaphorically and literally, so he and the twins get on like a house on fire. 
Good thing everyone turned out for you and Steph’s pre-graduation party, otherwise Wally, Jay, and Max would have their hands full trying to make sure the three of them didn’t bring the house down.
And when you say everyone came, you really mean everyone.
That’s sort of the problem.
Barry Allen and Iris West-Allen were pleasant as always when they arrived—fifteen minutes late, the tardiness Barry is prone to considerably mitigated by his wife’s urging—and gave you big hugs in congratulations when they saw you. 
“Well, early congratulations,” Barry amends, smiling. 
“I just wish we could be there, too,” Iris says, letting you go. 
You wave her off. Barry had a mission with the JL on the day of and Iris’s book tour was just starting, so there was no extra time to spare. 
“No, it’s okay. Wally and Linda are already going, so that’s enough.”
“We’ll be there in spirit,” Barry says, grinning as Iris rolls her eyes. “Literally.”
Referring to the speed force and the way it tethers both speedsters and lightning rods. So, yeah, technically. 
You chuckle. “Exactly. So, don’t worry.”
“We still wanted to give you our gift in person, though,” Iris says, passing you an envelope. 
“You guys really didn’t have to but thank you.”
“‘Course we did,” Barry says. “You’re Wally’s… what is it? Close friend slash little sister slash niece? Us, well, we don’t mind seeing you as a niece.”
“Complicated labels aside,” Iris puts in, “you’re part of this family, too.”
And boy if that wasn’t going to choke you up.
You believe it now, almost a year since Wally revealed his identity; since then, you consider Keystone City and Central City as much of a home as Gotham. It was only inevitable that you met the others and you were lucky enough that they welcomed you with welcome arms. 
But the ones part of this family are one and many. Not just the Garricks, not just the Wests, not just the Allens, not just Max Mercury, but—
“Ms. Chambers?”
Jesse Chambers grins at you. “Hey now, none of that. Here, Jesse works just fine. Pleasure to meet you. Everyone has had nothing but excellent things to say about you.”
Okay. Sure.
That bit is just a little obscured by your horrible confusion on how on earth she even knew everyone. 
You have an inkling as to the answer but frankly, it feels impossible to believe. Not because you don’t think she is not capable of it but the fact that the whole billionaire-as-a-superhero/vigilante thing isn’t so uncommon as initially thought.
The confusion must be written all over your face. She laughs. Jay is at your side in the next instant, smiling at her in greeting.
“Sorry not to have told you sooner,” he tells you apologetically, though the smile pulling at his lips tells you he isn’t that sorry. “But we wanted to leave the decision up to her. And—”
“If you can keep these guys’ secret,” Jesse says, jerking a thumb to the kitchen, where Wally, Linda, Barry, and Iris are, “you can keep mine, too. Besides, you did great work during your internship. QE has had our eyes on you for a while.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to—”
“We want to,” she says. “We wouldn’t lose anything at all offering you a place with PR. But if you want to go somewhere else, that’s okay. I’d be happy to be a reference if so.”
Somehow, you managed to stammer out a thank you and get out of that situation without making a complete fool of yourself. Wally later told you Jesse taps into the speed force using an equation, which… sure, why not. 
Jesse used to not like him, apparently, but recent events have allowed her to warm up to him; plus, the birth of her own son, Johnny Tyler, helped, too, that way Wade could have a friend to grow up with. 
While all the others prepare dinner and attempt to keep Bart, Jai, and Irey’s shenanigans contained, you manage to snag a bit of time to yourself, not quite believing you’d just been offered a job by Jesse Chambers herself. 
It’s all just… a little bit insane.
Then the twins came out and you indulged them on the trampoline in the backyard of the West house for a bit. Then you thought too hard about everything and sunk right back into your disbelief again.
Which leads to now.
“Speedsters, I swear,” Tim mutters.
You hear the soft sound of footsteps on the grass but make no move to leave from your place — star-fished on the trampoline, eyes closed. Early May in Keystone City is considerably warmer and tepid than Gotham City. You should shed your hoodie but you don’t want to. Mostly because it isn’t yours, exactly.
It’s Tim’s. The one you wore the night you got stabbed last year. Not the same one; that one was ruined beyond repair and anyway, you weren’t too happy to wear that exact one, either, since you nearly bled out in it. But it’s close enough. The same shade of brilliant azure. Big on Tim and baggy on you.
Of course, why should you want a hoodie when your boyfriend is right here?
The faint noise of the flaps of the netting be brushed aside. Then the trampoline itself moves, dipping with his weight as he comes over to you. You slide a bit, elbow bumping into his knee.
“So,” he starts, closer than before, one hand brushing your cheek as he tucks a few pieces of your hair behind your ear. “What’s this about an existential crisis? In the middle of the day?”
“It’s four in the afternoon.”
“Schematics.”
You grunt but don’t respond.
A soft chuckle. “Is this about Jesse Chambers’ offer? It’s too bad, you know.”
“What’s too bad.”
“Well, Wayne Enterprises was looking forward to offering you a position, too. And so were the Titans. And I can’t speak for this one personally but I’m fairly certain the Justice League was planning on sending an offer, too. You’re in high demand.”
You groan. “Isn’t that too much? I’m—I haven’t even graduated. There are so many other people with so much more experience—”
“Well, how are you supposed to get experience, too?” he asks, laughing softly. “Besides, you’re graduating with honors.”
“Oh, yeah, well, I’m sure it helps to have a boyfriend with an in at WE, who also just so happens to be a member of the Titans, on top of multiple people who are close to me that are also part of the Justice League.”
“And Jesse Chambers? Hers is the most reliable in that sense, then, isn’t it? Because she doesn’t personally know you—”
“But she knows Wally.”
“But their relationship isn’t that great. Sure, she’s good with Jay and Max but… You also have the advantage of having worked there briefly. They wouldn’t call you back if they didn’t like what they saw.”
Which is true. Jesse Chambers is a businesswoman. She wouldn’t do this as some pity play.
Then again, neither would the others.
You finally open your eyes, squinting immediately as the sun beams down at you. 
Tim shifts, moving until his head can shield you from it, bringing him into your focus. 
He’s smiling warmly at you, affection clear in his gaze; the sunlight does wonders for him, for his dark hair and blue eyes.
“This can’t be happening.”
“It is,” he says. “You’re graduating next week Friday. You and Steph. And no matter where you go and what you do, you’re gonna kick ass, you know that, right?”
You groan. “You’re supposed to say things like that.”
“Maybe,” he concedes. “But when I tell you I had nothing to do with the offer from WE, you have to believe me. You know I haven’t worked with them in a long while. That was all them.”
“Bruce?”
“Maybe Bruce.” 
But then that’s ‘cause he feels… guilty about cornering you last year. Which serves him right. Your relationship with Tim’s adoptive father is a bit rocky, truth be told. Just because of the things Tim has told you. The things Steph has told you. And last year is certainly a factor. But all the others, you get along with them. 
You don’t see Dick too often because he lives in New York but he’s kind. Jason’s cool when you see him. Cass and Duke are great. You hang out with them regularly on your own. Damian is a bit frigid but that’s just because of your choice in company and not anything personal, exactly, but you do get the advantage of also having Steph on your side, since they have a better relationship than he and Tim do. Alfred is pleasant as always, too; sometimes he sends grocery deliveries to you to make sure you’re sustaining on actual food and not just ramen. 
Barbara Gordon is also very nice and volunteered to help you put together your resume and cover letters and applications; Jean-Paul Valley is kind, too. They’re both old family friends, you would learn. You have lunch with Helena Bertinelli once a month; you two bond over a mutual dislike for Batman and a mutual fondness for Tim—begrudging on her part sometimes but she undeniably sees him as a little brother and he sees her a big sister. And truthfully, your relationship with her is a bit similar.
You’ve made quite a few relationships with these vigilantes. Connections. So, you shouldn’t be surprised that all of this is happening. But one part of you, the prideful part, doesn’t like it. The other part, the rational one, says it was unavoidable. You were going to apply to QE and WE, anyway. Maybe toss out a few applications to the League and the Titans, too, just for the heck of it. Not expecting anything to come of it. Out of any of it. 
But of course something would. You know too many of these people for nothing to happen. 
“But then again,” Tim says a moment later. “Bruce is just attached to the company by name.”
“That is not a ‘just’ thing, Tim, that is a very big thing. They’d do whatever he wanted.”
“Not anything. Not if you didn’t have the grades, background, or potential to back it up.”
Also, technically, true. 
“But like I said. Jesse’s is the most earnest in that regard.”
“Do you want me to leave Gotham, is that it.”
He laughs. The sound warms you.
“I don’t,” he chuckles. “I really don’t. I’d love for you to go with WE. But I also know that the news of us dating throws a wrench in that.”
Right. Ever since the gossip columns caught you two kissing on a date a couple months ago, they wouldn’t shut up about it. Only after digging their grubby little fingers into every inch of your past, of course, and using that to fuel the flames. Talking about your relationship with him as if you planned it, just trying to get a leg-up in the application process at WE. 
But the thing is, objectively speaking, there isn’t anything wrong with that. You aren’t with Tim strictly for that purpose but you knew it would factor in. It’s undeniable, the way all these other offers are undeniable in who and why they came. You can’t help who you’re connected to. 
But yeah. It would suck to prove all the tabloids right by accepting a job with WE right after graduation—like all of them said you would.
Of course, they would talk regardless. Even if you went with QE or the Titans or the Justice League. Wayne Enterprises is a known partner with Quickstart Enterprises, as well as a heavy funder for the League and the Titans. So…
 You groan, wiggling closer to him by planting your head on his thigh and staring forlornly up at him. “What should I do?” 
He smiles. “Whatever you want to, honey.”
“Yeah, that’s not really helpful, Timmy.”
He rolls his eyes fondly, bending down to scoop you into his arms. You let out a squeak as he pulls you into his lap, then you settle comfortably in the circle of his arms, dropping your head on his shoulder. 
From here, you can spy the old bullet graze on the side of his neck, silvery and a little textured. Without a second thought, you lean forward to kiss it.
He shivers slightly, arms tightening around you. 
You bite down a smile. “Cold?”
“Shut up,” he mutters, fingers digging into your side, making you giggle and try to squirm away from him. 
He doesn’t keep up the torment, exhaling a soft laugh, too, as you lay your head back on his shoulder.
A cool breeze sweeps through the backyard. In the suburbs of Keystone City, it is quiet out here. Peaceful. Though you can still hear the others inside. Wally saying something. Steph laughing at it. 
You’ve carved out a nice place for yourself here. The West’s and Garrick’s here in Keystone and the Allen’s over in Central. 
You close your eyes, basking in Tim’s embrace and his proximity. You haven’t seen him much this month, with you and Steph in the throes of finals. But he promised to come, that he’d ask Bart to take him and his friend happily agreed.
You were surprised to learn of their relationship. That they had known each other. But they had met when they were younger, along with the rest of the original members of Young Justice. Put together because they were superhero kids. The relationship stuck. What a coincidence, that Bart Allen was part of the family you had quickly grown close to. But not unwelcome.
It is a small world, you would think. 
Or maybe, when you feel indulgent, meant to be. You and Wally. You and Steph, you and Tim. All of this. Interconnected in ways you could only dream of. You don’t have to sacrifice much to have them together. 
Tim squeezes your hip, one hand slipped underneath the hoodie. “What are you thinking about?”
That maybe this decision isn’t as hard as you thought it would be. That it’s not a matter of deliberation, is it?
You know you don’t want to prove all the tabloids right by going with WE immediately. Not to mention, for the longest time, it was a dream to work with them. You want more time, more experience, before you move there.
And you don’t think you are ready to jump head-first into working for the Justice League or the Titans. You need experience for that, too.
So…
“I’m pretty sure I could convince Wally to take me to Gotham to visit. When I start at Quickstart.”
“Not necessary,” he says and you raise an eyebrow, watching him pull back, his gaze warm, not at all surprised by your words. “I could just come and visit you. Unlimited access to the jet and all.”
“Racking up carbon emissions just for me?”
“You know the jet is clean energy,” he says, pouting a bit. 
Yes, you do. He talked your ear off about it when they made the switch. But you just like seeing him get pouty about it. 
You cup his cheeks, smiling, particularly taken with the way his whole face softens as he looks at you. The knowledge that he’s this soft for you is always so insane to you. Not at all good for your heart. 
“I know. It’s still a bit of an expense, though, isn’t it?”
“It’s worth it.”
“Cornball.”
“I’m being serious,” he presses, hands tightening around your waist. “Whatever I have to do, it’s worth it for you.”
You know that. Tim is a devoted boyfriend. He doesn’t do things in halves. When he’s loyal to someone, when he dedicates himself, he does it wholly. You could ask him of anything and he would do whatever it took to get it for you, to do it for you. If you asked him to move with you, you know he would do it.
You also know the thought must’ve crossed his own mind. But he still won’t say anything, not unless he knows you want it, too, and… you do. You think that can wait, though, for a little while longer. Let you get settled in and then you two can discuss that possibility—if he wants to, of course, because while Wally and Linda do like him now, the former would not like having a Bat running underfoot in the city, in either of the cities. 
You just aren’t used to that kind of devotion. Even after this long. 
You slide your arms around his neck, threading your fingers in his hair. He leans into the touch. “I know.”
“I’ll take Steph when I can, too,” he adds and you smile again. 
“I love you.”
He leans forward, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes flutter shut.
He nudges your nose with his, then finally closes the distance between you two.
Cotton-candy sweet warmth unspools in your chest he kisses you, soft and gentle. But it quickly edges into dangerous territory when you nip at his bottom lip and he yanks you closer and closer until there is no space between your bodies. It would be better if you weren’t wearing this hoodie but you make do with what you have, still able to feel most of his chest pressed to yours, hard and sturdy, heat licking up your spine.
Your fingers twine in his hair and he lets out a shuddery breath, the kiss turning open-mouthed in the next second and you can taste the gum he was chewing on earlier. 
It’s a shade too hungry for your current location but you can’t help it, he’s just so… beguiling. You’re overwhelmingly attracted to your boyfriend and you think you always will be.
But of course, you still should know better, even with all that.
A sharp gust of wind hits you two in the next second and you both separate immediately, knowing exactly what—or who—it is. But instead of Wally or any other speedster here, a high-pitched giggle makes it to your ears and you both turn, eyebrows raising as you find one and a half year old Wade West now inside the trampoline, net fluttering behind him. 
You and Tim turn to look at the back door, which is now open, Wally and Linda standing there; the former looks pleased, while the latter just raises her eyebrows. 
“I thought,” he starts, mischief written on his face, “that instead of leaving space for Jesus, you could leave some space for Wade. So. Do that. And please stop desecrating the place my children play.”
“And come inside,” Linda adds. “Food’s almost ready.”
You slide off Tim’s lap, reaching for Wade before he tries to stand and walk over to you, not trusting his balance on the trampoline. Tiny hands grapple with the hoodie strings, tugging.
“Got it. Thanks.”
They both smile pleasantly and turn back inside. 
You bite your lip, which already feels swollen from your kissing, and look at Tim. His face is flushed with red, lips swollen, too. A tempting sight.
He catches the look on your face. “Don’t.”
“It’s my graduation party.”
“It’s yours and Steph’s. Later.” 
“You’re no fun.”
“Well, you love me, so what does that say about you?”
“That you’ve seduced me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’ve seduced you, okay, sure—” he looks at Wade, shaking his head “—can you believe this?”
All Wade can do is giggle in response. All you can do is smile at him, so painfully in love. 
He smiles back, rising up on his knees and leaning forward to kiss your forehead. 
“I love you, too, you know.”
Yeah, you do know. 
Tumblr media
four years later
“Goddamit, where is it?”
Fish, a miniature Italian Greyhound you rescued from the shelter, offers no answer or help for your plight. Instead, she just sits near you, happy to follow you around as you search, watching you with big eyes. Big, empty eyes. Absolutely nothing goes on in her little head and you and Tim love her very much for it but damn if you wouldn’t appreciate a little help in finding the security badge that seems to have mysteriously disappeared.
It’s perfect timing, too. That badge is your lifeline. That’s what your supervisor, Meena, said anyway, a couple days ago when you went in for it and had a chance to speak with her before starting work. You can’t get into the tower without it. You can’t do anything without it and guest badges do not have the same amount of clearance that you have. 
You stop in the living room, taking a breath, frustration starting to make you hot, which would be the icing on the cake, if you managed to sweat through your clothes before you even started work.
Sighing, you look at her. “Do you know where it is?”
A sound behind you. 
“You should know better than that, honey,” comes the sleepy voice of your boyfriend, and you turn. “Fish is lucky to have a single coherent thought once a week and she wasted that one yesterday when she managed to give Damian the high five he asked for.”
You chuckle despite yourself, remembering the pleased gleam that had come into Damian’s hazel green eyes when Fish successfully completed the trick. Only after six months of painstaking work, of course, but it hardly deters him. Titus passed away not too long ago and he’s fixated on Fish because of it. Even if he says her name is ‘completely idiotic.’
Brushing away those thoughts, you focus on Tim, still sleepy-eyed and rumpled. Then you see it—in his hand is your security badge, your picture smiling up at you, with your name beneath it. 
“Oh my god, where—”
“You gave it to me, remember?” he asks, laughing softly as you pad over to him. “And said to keep it with my gear, that way it wouldn’t get lost between then and now.”
True. All true. After all, that gear—that is, his suit and tech—doesn’t get brought out other than for the occasional mission with the Titans, so, say, every six months or so. Other than that, it remains hidden in a panel behind your side in the walk-in closet, accessible only by him and you through fingerprint and retinal scans. 
Easiest way not to get lost, especially since you’ve been particularly harried in the lead-up to the official start of your job at Wayne Enterprises as their spokesperson. 
“Sorry,” you sigh. “Is that why you’re up? Because I told you, you don’t need to wake up for this, you can stay in bed…”
He raises an eyebrow. “And let you freak out for the next hour and a half before you have to leave?”
“Um. Yes?”
A soft smile. He reaches for you, hands settling on your arms, rubbing small circles there. 
“Well, you’re wrong. It’s your first day at WE.”
“I know, but you didn’t have to get up now at least…”
The original idea when you decided to wake up at five-fifteen is that one, it would give you ample time to get ready—both yourself and your belongings—and two, it would let you try to relax. 
Key word being try.
It’s now six, you’re supposed to leave in an hour and fifteen minutes to beat the morning rush traffic, and your nerves are none the better for it. 
Your sleep was fitful, too, in anticipation of today, so you’re starting to feel sleepiness creep in at the edges; the fact that the sun has not yet risen and won’t rise for a while—cursed winter months and their late sunrises—does not help.
He eyes you. “I think I do.”
You groan, dropping your forehead on his shoulder. “I can’t do this.”
He squeezes your arms. “Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t. They’re going to eat me alive.”
If not for being the new girl, then certainly because your boyfriend was, actually, once major shareholder of the company when he was seventeen and no, it doesn’t matter that he was just a figurehead and Lucius was actually pulling the strings—it still happened and Tim worked closely with the company for several years after. And then, of course, it will also be because your boyfriend is the adoptive son of the man who owns the actual company. 
Even if you waited before joining, even if you actually applied for the position! Yes, applied! Contrary to what a few tabloids are saying right now, you did not go up to Tim (or Bruce, depending on which gossip column you’re reading) and demand the job. You went through the same channels as absolutely anyone else would.
Tim ducks his head to press a kiss to your neck. You can’t help your shiver and you know he feels it by the way he smiles against your skin. “No, they won’t. That’s my job. They can’t take that away from me.”
“Now is so not the time—”
He laughs, pulling away; you do the same to look at him. 
“You’re going to be fine, gorgeous. You had Linda and Iris regularly pressing you these last few weeks and you did very well with them. Not to mention your last two jobs…”
You purse your lips.
“Two years with Quickstart Enterprises,” he lists. “Two more with the Justice League. Still bitter you picked them over the Titans, by the way.”
“They were more hardcore. Sorry.”
“Well, see? You and the rest of the team had to salvage the League’s image after each alien invasion or otherwise massive destruction committed during a mission and you guys did it. I mean, the publicity campaign you came up with was brilliant, you know that, right? Support was the highest it’s ever been while you were there.”
Right… In an effort to better the League’s image with the public after a particularly nasty fight that left multiple city blocks destroyed and more questions about the relevancy of the team, you decided the more prominent League members needed to create more solid images for themselves, that way each time the public or news saw them, it wasn’t always about the latest incident that brought their presence in. To do this, they needed to pick something to sponsor or support and start showing for it. Superman took an interest in accessibility to education, Wonder Woman focused on preserving wildlife and ecosystems, along with world landmarks, and Batman—with immense detail and planning to abide by his stiff rule not to be seen before the masses—focused on rehabilitation programs.
It brought in a lot of good coverage as more Leaguers agreed to do it and it did help. Helped a lot. Not to say those in the League were not helping, of course, either suited up in their own cities or with their public personas, but that was the issue. The League was capable of much more destruction collectively than individually and the public didn’t know that Batman was funding hundreds of programs to help impoverished communities in Gotham, mostly because he did that as Bruce Wayne and that connection would never be made known.
But that was the job. And you did it. Excellently. You would’ve stayed on for a little while longer but then you got kidnapped towards the end and that just wasn’t fun.
(Fortunately, however, there was a clause in your signing contract that states that in the event of a kidnapping, the League is obligated to rescue you. 
Fair is fair, you think, for helping maintain their image and ensure that the UN doesn’t pull the plug and that the public doesn’t completely despise them.)
And of course, if you managed to survive working with the League and being kidnapped because of that work, then you should be entirely prepared to take on Wayne Enterprises. It should be chump change, if anything, but again, you go in with preconceived notions about yourself and your reputation. Not so great.
But would you back out?
No way. 
“I believe in you,” he murmurs, his gaze warm and reassuring. “All of us do. You know Steph does.”
A pause, everything falling silent, save for the snores coming from the guest bedroom, where Steph is asleep.
“I’m not missing your first day at WE,” she had said the night before. “So, you better wake me up before you leave.”
He grins a bit teasingly at a particularly loud snore. “Like a train, right?”
“Like you’re any better.”
“I am not that loud.”
“What is it with me and attracting people who snore?”
Honestly.
“Speaking of, you know Wally and Linda believe in you. You can do this. It’s just ‘cause it’s the first day. Get through it and everything will be better.”
Which is true. You know that. Have been repeating that in your head as today approached and your nerves grew in intensity.
But everything is easier in theory than in practice. 
“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I know.”
You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks next. “That’s why I’m here. Why we’re all here.”
“To knock some sense into me?”
“To do that gently,” he chuckles. 
“I don’t know. I might need the force.”
“Well, I can call Damian if you want.”
“I don’t need that much force… on a scale, maybe something like Linda.”
“It’s good thing she and Wally are going to be here soon for breakfast, then.”
For the same reason Steph spent the night and Tim dragged himself out of bed—for your first day of work.
For you. 
You pull him into a hug, overwhelmed at the thought and not at all caring about wrinkling your clothes. You can fix that. But this… this needs to be made known. 
“I love you.”
He squeezes you—gently, trying to mitigate any wrinkles, and the thought makes your heart swell with unbridled love—and kisses your temple. 
“I love you. We all do.”
And isn’t that something? 
Tumblr media
reblogs are appreciated!
Tumblr media
taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers @fridaenpina @skcj24 @bath1lda @omfg-its-tay @laughydaphne @fhrjrirj @iamthesimpmother @alittlelateforstars @thaliadoesthings @scarlett13 @zelabee @coffee-love-alltheabove @benstormy @sad-girl09 @lockofspades @thereallchristine @thatonecroc @1lellykins @jelsafan0 @hearttjason @kno-way-home @moniverse05 @bat-h-tic @ghostindeath @escapism-r-us @plnkbees @gabrielle-tia @a-candle-maker @randobeetlehouse @solaris-love @blueberrygeniejam @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @mel9630 @brb-readingurfic @thetiredtoad0-0 @a-homosexual-homosapien @deadpools-thicc-cheeks @ilovemybabes @beanluvsmilo
Tumblr media
214 notes · View notes
clarks-letterman · 8 months
Text
daring | jacob custos x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n — wanted to make this different from my last jacob fic! again, writing to escape the slump so it might not be as good as usual!
summary — A game of truth or dare goes wrong when the counselors hear something outside of the cabin. You and Jacob go to check it out...
warnings — drinking, swearing, a bit of oral (jacob receiving), rimming (jacob receiving)
words — 3.3k
~~~
One thing about the outdoors was that it was quiet and slow. The night drug on and felt as endless as the forest. The atmosphere around Hackett's Quarry didn't feel much different, being the hearth in front of the warmth and spirit brought alive by the campers and counselors. Somewhere, lost in the passion, likely at the last cabin in a U-shaped order of identical structures, did it ignite into that fire. Alcohol carried that flame as it burned down everyone’s throat, and the contents of the cans evaporated, to which now laid in a pile under one of the unused bunks in case the big bad wolf—Mr. Hackett—stopped by to blow the roof off the closest thing that would come to be a party at Hackett’s Quarry.
"Jacob," Emma draws on the name, letting the syllables leave a pronunciated taste of sweetness on her lips, "I asked you: truth or dare?"
You noticed that, to Jacob, her salt looked like sweet sugar. He was willing to do whatever pleased her, and that reflected itself in his answer. “Dare.”
Emma bit her lip and smiled, “I dare you to. . .wear a piece of my clothing.”
“Do I get to choose?” Jacob pried. He sounded interested, and you figured that he probably would choose her bra or something immediately available on her, like the loose pair of sweatpants or tight spaghetti-strap hiding under a blue baggy cropped sweater. Emma knew better.
“Let’s take a vote.” Emma looked around in a circle, meeting the line of eyes as she waited for a response. Everyone sat facing each other in one big circle, and Kaitlyn, who sat two spots over from Jacob, skipping right over Dylan, put her opinion in.
“I think it should be the dealer’s choice,” she admitted.
Dylan turned to argue with Kaitlyn, “No way, the dude should get the choice since she came up with the dare.”
”I’m fine with Emma choosing for him,” Abby chided. Kaitlyn ignored Dylan to speak directly to her, “Thank you. See?”
The remainder of the group went, and finally, you. You sent the decision into a majority rule, and it was settled: Jacob would be able to pick his own humiliation. Jacob almost wanted to kiss you for unknowingly letting his preferred outcome happen. The question became not if he was embarrassed by the thought, but what he would choose to strut through the door in that he promptly exited with Emma tugging on his arm like a thick leash. In her absence, she left a promise that she would be back with expecting eyes trained on the door. That left you, Dylan, Kaitlyn, Ryan, Nick, and Abigail in the room.
Soon after, the two returned to a sprawl of low conversations that were interrupted as the old wooden door crept open with a creak. Emma entered first with her back turned to you and the rest of the group, only interacting with Jacob on the outside. She told him to wait for a cue, and he responded with a laugh about her dramatics. She turned to face the group, her glassy eyes falling on you first before looking around the half-circle.
“After a long wait, I present to you. . .” Emma bounced on her toes, “Jacob!”
She moved off to the side of the door, watching the reveal for herself as everyone joined in gazing at the widening space in the wall. Jacob pushed the door inwards and came into the light of the cabin, the soft glow casting a shadow on his torso where his newly-fitted brown cropped sweater ended. His thighs, which had previously been covered by solid denim, were now replaced by taut, pink nylon shorts that struggled to contain his tree-trunk-like thighs, and you couldn’t help but look at the ax-grinding right between his carved trunks. He also had on a different pair of less-than-pristine white canvas high-tops, which contrasted the dome of his head being covered by the same black baseball cap. Flipped backward, as expected.
“So that’s all yours, Emma?” Nick asked.
“No,” Jacob answered for her as he strutted to the center of the now mostly complete circle and posed, placing a hand on his hip, “These are mine, obviously. Why do you think I look so good in them?”
“And the—and the shoes, too. ‘Cause, obviously,” he followed.
While Jacob modeled himself, you noticed a thin separation between his shorts and his torso. A skinny piece of fabric shifted just above the band of his pink shorts, something that matched the color and looked like an entirely different thing underneath them. He must have failed to mention it or intentionally forgot about the fact that he put it on. You figured that it was the latter, given that Jacob had an issue with oversharing (circa the start of summer when he pulled, in what could only ever make sense coming out of his speak-before-think mouth, "The finest chick at camp.")
“That’s it?” You asked, hoping he would reveal it to your curious eye.
He kept posing, striking more complex stances that beefed up his upper body by puffing out his chest, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you wanted more.”
You receded, “It’s fine, Jake. I was just kidding.”
He brushed it off by not acknowledging it at all and returning to his spot in the group's circle, which was a little unnerving. Jacob accepted defeat when he was rightfully toppled over in a conversation but never exited without leaving a snarky comment in his place. The group found their way down the path of truth or dare again, and according to their rules, the dare victim became the one in control.
The second he learned of his power, he looked directly at you and called your name, "Truth or dare?"
"It's only fair. Dare." You admitted with a dreaded swirl in your gut. A jock without inhibitions could mean that anything goes, and the night had already taken the turn of trying on clothes that weren't the proper size; who knows where else it could go? Jacob sat puzzled by the endless things he could make you do. Oh, the things he wanted to make you do. To satisfy himself, but more importantly, to inflate his big personality.
"I dare you to—what the fuck was that?" Jacob exclaimed.
"I didn't hear anything," Emma spoke without a thought behind her eyes. She smiled blankly in an attempt to reassure the panicked jock.
He tried to defend himself, "Yeah, well, it sounded like a bear. . . or something."
You interjected, "When have you ever—"
"Shh—shush." He hushed everyone in the room.
"You should go out there, Jacob. Maybe you can finally use that body you're always talking about to keep that bear occupied for a few minutes," Kaitlyn spoke, "It'll finally shut something up."
He lifted himself to the ground and strode to the door, "Yeah-yeah, fuck you. All of you, actually."
She ignored his insult. "Take some backup for help."
"I'll go." You offered.
He looked at you with gratitude, "Thank you, and I'm sorry for fucking you."
He held the door open for you, and you went first onto the deck and down the small row of steps. You heard his footsteps follow close behind. The placid night swept over the two of you as the ripples of sundown carried away the day's motion, and only your and Jacob's entrance into the still night could bring it to life again, even in fear.
After a slow lap around the cabin, with only the swish of Jacob's running shorts to remind you of his presence as he kept his unusually sewn-shut tongue behind invisible strings. It urged you to break the silence, “You never gave me a dare.”
He peered at you. Suspicion, expressed blatantly, “Didn’t realize we were still playing.”
“You started it when you came in with those shorts,” you remarked.
"Really?"
"You know, you look—uh, good in them." Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you were delusional, but you couldn't help yourself. The move had to be played now or the game would switch to something you didn't know the rules of.
"Thanks for noticing." He teased.
You weren't sure how to bring it up, "Speaking of, I noticed something under them."
"It pairs with it, right?"
"Totally." You agreed. It was hard to go wrong with the matching colors. "But why—"
"Jesus Christ, I dare you to pull these off. . ." Jacob dug his thumbs into the elastic of his running shorts, stretching them out. The threading around his lips broke, pulled apart by neediness. He used the freedom of his lips to press them to yours—his being notably rougher and less taken care of than others at camp. You had trouble believing that the words chapstick and hygiene float around often in the boy's cabin. "I wanted you to see it."
The feeling of Jacob laying out a hint to you was enticing, and you were ready to take the bait further down. Your hands dove in, pulling down his shorts to his ankles and reaching for the thin tri-pointed cloth covering his dick. He was already chubbing-up and pushing the small mask to its limit, and you cupped a hand over it, feeling his still soft dick and balls overfill your hand. You thought about how your hand would smell and maybe taste like him if he set the boundaries at simply hand stuff. But a single worry cannon-balled into your thoughts to disrupt the flow: what if DylanRyanNickEmmaAbbyKaitlyn saw?
"What about everyone inside? They'll see this, too." You went to pull your hand away, but Jacob brought it back to its rightful place with his rough-skinned one. Your palm felt warmer—he felt warmer. The cloth could turn to bits of scattered ash and ember from the heat, and you wouldn't question it.
"They won't," he confidently stated. Another kiss and even more nonchalance, "If they do, they'll see this beast. Scarier than a stupid fucking bear, right?"
"Right."
Moving the thin, nearly tearing cloth to the side is the reason why you're about to act in the way that you do. He flopped out, albeit a little unceremoniously, as the support of your hand on his dick was gone. Jacob was big and much scarier than your first sip of beer from earlier in the night because he wasn't just a sip. He was the whole can. He was the type to bottom out and pound and pour and bottom out and repeat.
You looked at him, taking him into your gentle hand, "What first?"
Jacob took a moment to think. "You tell me. Dare or dare?"
His chocolate irides guided your impossible-to-make decision, "That's a hard one. I think I'll go with a dare."
"I dare you to get on your knees for me." There was a moment of silence where the only noise was a light shuffle and whir of fabric rubbing against itself. Your knees sank onto dirt packed in by hundreds of happy campers, and you were about to give Jacob an ending to the night that would make him feel just as happy being there.
Cast in the soft glow of a lantern a camper must have left nearby, a brief glance over to it revealed that it rested on an old tree stump, it shined a light on your endeavor to do something you had never done before. If you were still in the cabin, the dare could have been something as easy as stealing something from Mr. Hackett’s office or shotgunning the next beer you might have decided to drink. But now you were outside, surrounded by the darkness as your only witness with one faint light not too far off. Light from the window above poured out, too, but it served as less of a guiding gleam and more of a reminder that you were in the shadows of vigilantes in the cabin. One loud moan or even something as stupid as losing your balance could draw their attention, and that was the last thing you wanted.
Maybe you could use the experience of shotgunning at this moment; to recall the feeling of a sudden rush flowing into your mouth. The opposite happened when his tip went past your lips, though. Jacob was slow and careful with familiarizing his cock with your mouth. He could have done it for his own sake, or he was just being a tease.
"Fuck," Jacob moaned. "You're hot. So fucking hot." He ended his praise on a high note, almost sounding giddy,
You managed to get a good movement going from the tip to about halfway down his dick. When your mouth got to the halfway point–made clear by how his pink tip faded to white by that point–he nudged the back of your throat. But on one of the trips down his cock, taking the usual jaunt past your lips, and molars, carefully watching your teeth altogether, Jacob felt the right, or even the need, to make you take all of it. You gagged, sputtering out a cough as you choked on him. "Should've warned me, Jake."
"Notasfun." Jacob ghosted your throat, pushing himself back into the back of your mouth and slowly pulling farther and farther out until he actually pulled himself out. He did stop as you had hoped for but not without some kind of trade in mind. Jacob let his slobbery cock fall on your face, credulously asking as if he knew the answer, "You want more?"
"Uh-huh," you moaned. Jacob laughed, "Good, 'cause that was only half of the delivery and only the first dare. Still got a dump truck for you."
Jacob turned around, bunching up what he could of his already shortened sweater to make sure everything in his backside was in view. His thick thighs lead to two pale moons, with a thin pink line running over the tops of both and going down his crack to circle under and cradle everything he had just taken out in the front. It looked a little bit uneven, likely from the events happening on the flip-side of where you were now–on the bright side of the moon.
His shoes were rough against the dirt path paved out by years of dozens of feet running across it, making small crunch sounds as he spread his legs out and bent over. He beckoned you forward by waving his hips side-to-side. You peeled apart his cheeks–and now it felt like the dark side with the hair smattered along the inner parts of both. A place where light didn’t shine, thanks to Emma and her prudity, and his moons appeared as crescents in the night, thanks to you and your dare.
Jacob noticed the lack of your nose or mouth getting to work, “Eat up, baby. You know you need this snack to sober up after all that drinking.”
“You were making me nervous, Jake…” And he still was in this moment. You moved the pink strap out of your way to look at what exactly you would be tasting.
He played it off, “Yeah, I totally meant to do that.”
Leaning your face forward, his wiry asshair lightly crosses your chin and the sides of your cheeks. It became the scruff on your face as the hair rubbed against your chin with every movement. You couldn’t please him without the sensation of his hair scratching you. You couldn’t do it without taking him in, his ass overwhelming your senses and weighing down on your face as he did his best to keep himself from grinding back onto your face.
Could you really stop now? If you did, you might as well have considered yourself notasfun. He felt your hot breath take in his musky scent and release it, begging you to do it again. You weren't going anywhere. The way he smelled was anything but a turn-off—almost sweet and sweaty in one, a nearly perfect blend of alternating tastes to linger on your palate. The smell was just as good. Some of it was his natural stink, the rest being made up of whatever he used to clean himself with in the communal showers. You couldn’t help but wonder when this dare would end, if it had an end in sight. Maybe it would be over when the sun came up, or if everyone exited the cabin in time to see all of this happening, but the longer it went on, the better. The taste you picked up on with your wet tongue became addictive, and Jacob seemed to love the feeling just as much.
"You taste so fucking good," you told him between laps. You found yourself being pressed deeper into his crack, and all you can think about is his muscled ass finally shutting you up.
It was his hand raking through your hair. He wanted you to be closer, “This dare isn’t over yet, keep going…”
That was the sign that it was time to step up your game. Your method of licking the same area once over wasn’t cutting it for a guy who seemed like he would fuck in the same position every night. You started to let the tip of your tongue wander through his hole, being surrounded by all sides and getting a taste of Jacob from the inside. Soon, it became a quick and erratic motion of assaulting his hole by moving your head back and forth and your tongue along with it.
As you steered course, it seemed to be working since Jacob audibly shuddered. “Oh, shit, dude. I dare you to make me come.”
And that was the sign that your actions worked, but you knew there was one more thing you could do. So far, your hands hand just been free, resting on your own body or Jake’s wide ass to keep yourself steady. The idea to lay them in his sensitive areas, most notably his dick and balls, which had been touched very little since their acquaintance with your mouth just a short while ago, came to you. You reached around to grab his standing cock with one hand while the other went under and between his legs to fondle his low-hangers. Jacob shuddered in a way that you could feel, a quick “fuck” slipping out that sounded like it was only meant for him.
You noticed how Jacob still had his cropped sweater still bunched up in his hands at the front by looking at how the back of it was taut around his waist. He always had a hold of it—even if it was with just one hand—and he seemed to be clutching it as a way to prevent himself from coming, or so you thought it was for that. When he did come, spurting massive globs over your hand and shooting some ropes of it on the dirt at his feet and likely hitting the lattice fence under the cabin, he finally dropped it. You felt and could see his legs shake while he kept your nose and mouth buried between his crack, only letting you back off when he knew he was tapped out.
“That was too good, dude.” Jacob complimented. He bent down to pull his shorts back up, then he finally let go of the brown fabric. A second later, he was standing straight up with his shorts in place, the pink thong mostly covered besides the slight raise between the hem and the actual strap of it as he had done before.
“Yeah? What do I get for it?” You smacked his now-clothed ass with an eager smirk. Jacob looked at you, noticing that your face was damp from slicking him up with your saliva, and wiped a bit off with his sleeve. The same arm that the sleeve covered found its way over your shoulders, directing you in the opposite way of the cabin with the rest of the counselors.
A stupid smile crossed his face, “All the dares you want! We got all night!”
308 notes · View notes
demonvibez · 9 months
Note
Hmmm another character I think would be fun to write for a soft fluffy shower scenario would be Beel, Mammon or Levi!!!
I imagine Beel's quite happy and delighted when he gets to pat you down with a towel and occasionally eat the toothpaste when it's time to get ready for bed, which is cute and soft!!! He's just a fluffy man!!! He wants to be drowned in that domestic love for sure!!! He likes ruffling your hair down with a towel and drying you off in his lap after a nice hot shower.
I can imagine he's too big and bulky to move efficiently out of the way of the showerhead so usually the water cascades all over him and barely on you. But don't worry!!! He'll just rub all the water on him back onto you when he's got you against the wall.
Mammon would be interesting because he's super bashful but he doesn't turn his nose up at the chance to bathe with MC, he's a lil nervous and doesn't exactly know where to glue his eyes or where to rub you down with bodywash because he keeps getting distracted by how pretty and sweet MC looks like this, but he's got the right spirit!
Eventually I imagine he gets quite comfortable rubbing MC down with soap while humming to himself, he seems so blissful he keeps lathering more soap onto you no matter how many times he's already done it. He just likes being able to touch you and be there with you, he likes when you let him take care of you and of course he loves it when you wash his hair out with him! I imagine he loves a mixture of baths and showers.
Levi's also quite sweet because I can imagine he's so shy! Poor guy doesn't know what to do in such a scenario!!! He wants to enjoy this intimate moment with MC in the bath so bad but he's so fidgety and blushy he can barely put his hands on you without overthinking it. He lets you wash his back even when he squirms around from the touch, the water swirls everywhere and eventually he's the one sitting between your legs so he can hide away that blush on his cheeks.
It stays that way regardless of how much time has passed, he's always thankful to have such an angel taking care of him in such a vulnerable state :,,,((( Eventually I'd say he becomes quite cozy staring at you! His eyes always linger in places they shouldn't and his cheeks erupt into fire when he figures out that MC does not at all mind when he lets his eyes and mind wander.
Wawawawa I like the boys :,|
An honourable mention I'd say would be interesting to write for is Solomon!
His pact marks are everywhere and he likes when MC scrubs down his marks in exchange for your's. When he smoothes his hands over the marks on your skin with soap he feels strangely calm, he likes how when it's just skin to skin, the both of you aren't so different afterall. Stripped down to the barest parts of you, MC is almost like him. Human! With the help of a few demons.
Oooo, all of these are definitely worthy contenders! I definitely wanna write the full versions w/ allllll of them, and have some pretty devious ideas about each. Your honorable mention of Solomon has inspired quite a few ideas that I'll have to keep in mind 😈
Until then, love what you wrote above, so I put my lil reply/spin below. ♡ I left out Solomon because he's just gonna have to join the party later!
Edit: am realizing I may not have put as much softness into parts of this but, oh well, enjoy!
warning: no real smut but it's quite suggestive (minors dni)
I definitely see Beelzebub being nervous at first, seeing as he is so damn polite when it comes to how you feel, whether it's about consent or the breakfast menu. He might fumble about the shower the first go round, which you both still enjoyed quite a bit, but the second time he is ready with a plan. He'll tell you to step into the shower first, the water cascading over you and onto him as he hands you the soap with that innocent smile of his. Time to rub down all of those muscles with your tiny little human hands. A blush creeps across his face as you look up at him with a devious smirk, gently pushing him down to the shower floor so that you can finally climb him and have your way with him . . .
Always the greedy demon, Mammon would never miss the chance to bathe with you. The greedy part of him just wants to take you, to feel every part of you while you share the shower together - to make you feel as good as you make him feel. Sometimes he has to remind himself that you're both here for a reason, 'gotta get clean n get ta breakfast before Lucifer kicks both our asses!' and you both fall into the routine of helping each other scrub. Sometimes, on a day where you both have nowhere to be, you find yourself in a bath together. Mammon suddenly pulls you into his lap, his grip on you firm and the golden glint of greed in his eyes. He has you all to himself today, and he will not be holding back . . .
Bathing with Leviathan is a double edged sword - when it comes to being in water, he is in his natural element. Demon form or not, he loves water and it's his safe space. On the other hand, Leviathan is not only very shy, but also self loathing. It isn't until you come along that everything starts to change. It takes some time for Levi to bathe with you - even the idea initially had him shut into his room for three days. But who else but you, his Henry, could help him break out of his shell?! And after a few attempts, here the two of you were. Eyes wide and cheeks painted with blush, Levi was lathering up your shoulders when he heard you giggle. He noticed that his tail had wrapped around your leg, and was snaking it's way upwards. Mortified, he began to stammer when you placed your hand on his tail and assured him that you like it. Emboldened with a small wind of confidence, he let his tail continue on, wondering what else it can do that you like . . .
379 notes · View notes