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#they just don’t like it when they have to fight their brothers over who gets to chaperone her
syrupfog · 2 days
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Realistically there are enough green haired people in the One Piece universe that I don’t think Sanji, upon meeting Zoro initially, would associate him with Yonji. He hadn’t seen Yonji in like a decade-ish at that point, and the last time he’d seen him he’d been a kid. 
BUT
I do feel like after Whole Cake it might be a different story. He’s seen Yonji all grown up, and he’s got muscles the same way Zoro does. Maybe the first time Zoro gets closed to him during Wano is when Sanji flinches away on instinct
Which would fuck Zoro up because like. Sanji FIGHTS when confronted, he doesn’t FLINCH. 
But Sanji knew better than to fight back against his brothers, that programming is still deep in there. 
and at the same time Sanji would never TELL Zoro about all that.
It takes Luffy offhandedly mentioning that Zoro has the same hair as one of Sanji’s brothers for it to click. And even then, it doesn’t click so much as it feels like a puzzle piece in a puzzle he only has half the pieces for.
But Zoro doesn’t know how to be Kind or Soft with Sanji, only knows how to fight, and the second and third time Sanji takes an involuntary step back from him when Zoro’s striding towards him, well— he gets SO angry. 
He’s not even sure WHY he’s angry, or at who.
He thinks it’s Sanji at first, mad that Sanji’s showing such weakness. But— that’s not right. He wouldn’t be mad at anyone else for that. Hell, Usopp’s weak all the time. 
He figures it out eventually. He’s mad at that brother that has his hair.
But the brother isn’t fucking HERE now, and Sanji is. And Zoro gets stupid when he’s angry. 
He ends up confronting Sanji in a stupid way, by storming up to him and grabbing his collar and yelling to LISTEN UP, COOK.
He ignores the flinch that comes as he does, the way Sanji doesn’t meet his eyes. 
He says, “I’m not HIM, stop LOOKING AT ME like I AM.” 
Sanji’s gaze is locked on the floor, but he kicks— uppercuts him, sends Zoro flying backward. And he leaves.
Then Wano keeps happening, as it does, and Zoro doesn’t see him again until Sanji’s wrapping him from head to toe in bandages. 
And all Sanji says is, “I know you’re not him.” 
But he still doesn’t look Zoro in the eye.
And when it’s all over, and they’re feasting, and Zoro’s gone to hell and back, he finds the cook again. And Sanji, when he spots Zoro, still flinches for a moment before righting himself. 
But then he slides up to Zoro and hands him a bottle and says, “I can’t just turn it off.”
He says, “Don’t take it personally.” 
He says, “You’re nothing like him.” 
“Nothing?” Asks Zoro. 
And Sanji’s touch lingers a little too long. Maybe he’s had too much to drink.
“You have kindness,” he says. “I can look into your eyes and see something other than cruel indifference.” Then he smacks Zoro’s arm. “You’re nothing like him. But memories are hard to bury.”
Zoro chugs the bottle. It tastes expensive. 
“Fine,” he says. “Let me give you something better to dwell on then.” 
And he kisses Sanji. Sanji, who tastes like peach saké and soba noodles. 
Sanji pulls back, and slaps him across the face.
But then he pulls him in for a second kiss, so Zoro lets that go.
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kastalani123 · 1 day
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(if you prefer Ao3)
They learn about it in the slowly bubbling, uncertain high of victory.
She died a hero, Clarisse says, repeats, convinces, closing Drew’s hands around a bracelet far too innocent to make everyone’s hearts sink with just a glance. Its silver colour is barely visible beneath the blood. Drew’s hands were already long slick with crimson. She doesn’t say anything.
(The daughter of Ares tells them the story as they pick up their other fallen siblings. Nobody responds)
Fuchsia with an apple for Anders, seventeen and the loveliest relationship advisor. Lacy only manages a few words through her sobs and tears, her hair still in the intricate but effective braid he had put it in before battle.
Coral with a conch shell for Khalid, twelve with a love for anything one could find at the bottom of the ocean. Valentina grips his stuffed anglerfish so tightly that she almost tears it while making her speech about him.
Salmon with a thorned rose for Ina, fifteen and the best fighter in the cabin. Mitchell can barely stand while talking, choked by having been unable to retrieve more of her than a gnarled arm, recognizable only through the heart-shaped birthmark spanning the back of her hand.
Magenta with a dove for Sawyer, fourteen with the kindest eyes in the world. Drew lays the sword they had never wanted in the fire and watches it melt into perfumed smoke without a word.
Cerise with flowering myrtle for Jasmin, sixteen and the craftiest painter around. Aminah bites her knuckles to the blood in a failed attempt not to cry when the burning paints colour the fire in impossible hues.
… Hot pink with an electric spear for Silena. Clarisse sets the fire with a blank face, dried tear tracks gouging grooves down her cheeks.
(A grief-stained title of cabin counsellor for Drew, fifteen with the weight of her world suddenly on her shoulders. Cabin Ten cannot keep her from turning her head high, eyeliner sharper than it’s been in years.)
----------
It’s not Drew who orders all signs of Silena Beauregard to be scrubbed from the insides of Cabin Ten. 
Instead, Mitchell passes through the cabin while the others haunt around Camp like the ghosts they had avoided becoming. Carefully, carefully, he folds up Silena’s fashionista posters, picks pictures of her off the clothing clips on the strings strung up throughout the cabin, strips her bed of the flower pillows they’d all collaborated to get for her last (final) birthday, collects clothes from her section of shelves and drawers, and packs everything with even a trace of her into the suitcase under his bed. Grief echoes off the bare spaces, sandalwood perfume soaking into the walls, a vestige of one of the many lives struck short these past several days.
His siblings don’t say anything when they finally come and find him curled up on Ina’s bed, clutching her morning star plush like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to his body, the entire cabin missing key elements. Drew starts to get ready for bed, Aminah throws herself onto Jasmin’s bed and shatters, Lacy tears her hair free of Anders’s braid with a wail, and Valentina screams into Khalid’s pillows until her voice is hoarse. Mitchell swears he hears similar sounds from the other cabins.
(Rory comes the next day, backpack full of clothing designs he hadn’t bothered to unpack in his rush upon hearing about the strange happenings in New York. He takes one look at his siblings’ hollowed faces, at the bare beds, at the empty spaces, and breaks, begging for forgiveness for not being there to fight along their sides, for not protecting them like an older brother should, for working on his college projects while they fought and died for the world. Drew scoffs, lips perfectly painted, and says there’s a reason they didn’t tell him war was brewing over their last Iris Message. The others pile onto him, cursing and crying and trying to keep themselves from falling into pieces.)
----------
Officially, Silena Beauregard is a hero. She had been burned with laurel wreaths, and offerings were tossed into the fire to aid her journey to Elysium. Her photo has been put up in the Big House alongside many others, and even Mr D managed not to butcher “Silena Beauregard” for once, prompted by a centaur kick. Her name is whispered under the topic of the ultimate sacrifice, of the power of love, of the bravery of unexpected leaders.
Unofficially, the only one who speaks her name with pure reverence is Clarisse La Rue, and no one says it with such vitriol as Drew Tanaka. Her spy bracelet, still drenched in blood, has been hurled against a wall and remains hidden and gathering dust under her bed. Her cabin has been scrubbed clean of any mentions of her, her name unspoken in fear of Drew’s newfound cruelty.
(Drew builds back up the walls her siblings had dismantled with so much care, taller and thicker than ever before.)
(Mitchell retreats back into himself, the skittishness he had worked so hard to shed shrouding him in full force once again.)
(Lacy melts into the crowd like never before, burying her voice beneath a blanket of sorrow.)
(Valentina ditches her soft colours and loose wardrobe, forcing attention onto her new tastefully torn jeans and bold shades and away from her wail-wrecked throat.)
(Aminah tugs her grief tight around herself and leaves with the summer, her goodbye lacking a definitive “see you later”.)
----------
Two boys, adorned in pearls and guided by geese, arrive in a cabin full but hollow, plagued by dead siblings and a traitorous hero. Twins, they are, nine years old and unknowing of the carnage of war, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Drew scoffs and scolds but leaves them to her remaining siblings, for her sharp tongue has never been suited for introductions, and even in the wake of her death-stained rule, she will not dare shut children down so soon after arrival.
Names of all the ghosts haunting the cabin become unspoken, none willing to explain them and blemish the twins’ innocence.
It does not work.
Not when Lev walks in on Lacy sorting and resorting dozens of vials of perfumes with shaking hands and trembling breaths. Not when Ren asks Valentina about the night sky painted on the wall over an empty bed and she shuts down entirely for the rest of the day. Not when Lev holds up a mirror to help Mitchel neaten up the impulsive haircut he had given himself after a game of Capture the Flag. Not when Ren catches Drew in a screaming match with another camper over a girl he had never heard about.
Not when something weighs heavily over the empty spaces in the cabin, over the necks of their newfound siblings.
So they ask someone else.
Clarisse La Rue. Will Solace. Connor Stoll. Nyssa Barrera. Malcolm Pace.
Slowly, slowly, they collect pieces, find ways to fit them together, compare conflicting accounts. They get the story of clashing metal, raging fire, slithering scales. A frightful fairytale, starring their fellow campers as the main characters. The missing limbs, the overabundance of scars, the paranoid glances — it all clicks together, and the uncomfortable hollowness of Camp Half-Blood is suddenly apparent.
(Eventually, they ask about their own Cabin’s side of the story.)
(They receive no answer beyond solemn looks and half-hearted shrugs.)
----------
Piper McLean falls from the sky, crashing straight through the fragile roof of the system Cabin Ten has established for itself the moment she bursts with pink light.
She is… argumentative. Unwilling to cram herself into the tattered tapestry of their Cabin the war had left behind. Determined to be different, to stand out, to raise her hackles at those around her. Filled with an anger towards the paints and ruffles her siblings wrap themselves in, and unconcerned with not letting it spill over and burn them.
She challenges Drew, and they cheer.
(Will the sister-that-never-left finally come back to them?)
Drew scoffs and huffs, sharpens her nails on the sound of Piper’s voice, but does not fight.
(They have fought for so long, and she is tired, and maybe an older kid with none of the wounds that mar the rest of them is needed in Cabin Ten.)
(Within a month, Drew wrenches permission for them to leave Camp for a shopping trip out of Chiron, and they know she is coming back.)
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darkjimxn · 2 days
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Chapter 5: Dodgeball
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Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.
Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)
Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses
A/N: Exams are finally over, so here's an update. Hope you enjoy!
Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty
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Your gaze stayed fixed on the man before you, hunched over as he cradled his bruised jaw with one hand. Was this what Principal Park had meant when he had said the Academy wasn’t entirely safe? You had assumed that he had been referring to secret abductions in the middle of the night or underlying schemes being formulated in the shadows. 
Not outright attacks being done in the centre of the main hall while the morning’s sunlight still shone brightly. 
You paused as the sound of expensive dress shoes striking against the marble floor echoed around the hall, each step slow and confident to reveal someone entering through the same doors the guy a few metres away from you had stumbled through just a few seconds earlier. 
You would have ignored whoever it was and walked over to the guy still crouched on the floor, but at the last second your gaze caught onto a few strands of dark purple, causing your head to snap towards him in shock.
Jimin’s brother paused at the doorway, scanning the main hall nonchalantly with those familiar occult red eyes. Even without the dimly lit atmosphere and dark shadows he seemed just as menacing as he had last night. The only difference was that now you could just barely pick up on an underlying anger lurking behind the nonchalant facade. 
His gaze flickered to you for a moment, taking in your standing form beside the Tree of Life, before it ultimately fell on the guy on the floor. 
At the sight of Jimin’s brother the guy pushed himself off the ground quickly with wide eyes and hands hovering upwards in a sign of surrender. 
Wait… was he the one that was doing this?
As if to answer your question, Jimin’s brother walked over to him and grabbed his collar with a gloved hand, dragging him with it until he slammed him against the nearest wall. 
The main hall began to fill with students from the dining hall, all of whom seemed curious, and clearly entertained, by the current state of events. They all made sure to give the two a wide area of space though, evidently making sure they wouldn’t get involved. 
Typical. 
You didn’t know if you wanted to get involved either. There was that feeling back in your chest, the one of elation whenever you watched men fight each other; whenever they decided to inflict pain on their own rather than on you. You knew it was wrong to feel that way, your hate didn’t blind you that much, but you still couldn’t seem to help yourself.
Come on, don’t be a monster Y/N, you thought with a sigh. 
You forced yourself to take a step towards the two, opening your mouth to reluctantly stop whatever was going on, but then paused as you suddenly recognised who Jimin’s brother had pinned to the wall. 
Wasn’t that the guy that had bullied Seokjin yesterday? What was his name… Jihoon?
“Look man,” Jihoon said, hands still up in surrender as Jimin’s brother held his collar, “I don’t understand what I did! Please just let me go, I’ll do whatever you want!”
“Oh?” Jimin’s brother grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes that did not match his calm tone, “not so tough now, are we?”
His gaze dropped to the bruise on Jihoon’s jaw, which was now turning an ugly shade of purple, “that’s disappointing, I was expecting a good fight.”
You watched Jihoon cower a bit when his gaze raised to meet his once again, “you want me to leave you alone?”
“Y-yes,” Jihoon answered, so quickly that you almost felt bad for him. Jimin’s brother nodded slowly, clearly relishing in his fear.
“Okay, but only on one condition.”
Jimin’s brother leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, but to your surprise, Jihoon seemed to freak out at the action. His head immediately jerked backwards, causing it to hit against the wall behind him roughly. A pained groan escaped his lips. 
You narrowed your gaze at the excessive reaction. You knew Jihoon was a coward the second you had caught him preying on Seokjin, but still… Jimin’s brother had only leaned forward. Was Jihoon really that scared of him?
Jimin’s brother ignored the reaction, waiting for him to stop groaning over his head, before he leaned forward once again and whispered something near his ear. You felt everyone strain their ears to try and listen to his words, but they were spoken much too low for anyone, including you, to hear. 
His words elicited another reaction from Jihoon, but this time it was more of a shocked response than a frightened one. 
“You what?!” He said incredulously, his hands dropping to his sides.
But one withering glare from Jimin’s brother suddenly had him nodding instantly, “wait- okay! Okay, I swear!”
“Great,” Jimin’s brother grinned with fake amusement for a moment before it dropped.
“Now get lost.”
Jihoon scrambled away from him the second he was freed, half running through the front doors of the academy. It was almost comical the way Hannah, the blonde foreigner that had been with him yesterday, ran after him while calling his name. The two definitely made for an interesting pair, you’ll give them that much. 
You looked back at Jimin’s brother, only to find him already walking out of the hall without another word. His expression was far from the amused cocky bastard from last night, this time filled with hidden rage that you questioned. You distantly wondered what Jihoon could have possibly done to make him so angry. 
“Cheonsa,” a voice behind you stated suddenly.
You turned around to find an unfamiliar girl standing next to you, dressed in the same Elitist Academy uniform as your own. Similar to Hannah she was also a foreigner, but her dark brown hair was pulled into short braids under her maroon cap while her light brown skin stood out against her cream-coloured collar. 
“Sorry, what?” You asked, unsure of what she had just said.
While the students that had stayed to watch the spectacle began making their way to their classes, she just continued to stand beside you and stare at the door in which Jimin’s brother had disappeared behind, “the guy that just practically beat up Jihoon, his name is Park Cheonsa.”
“Cheonsa?” You repeated, tilting your head slightly, “that’s an… odd name.”
The word itself translated to ‘angel,’ but you’d never actually heard anyone use it as a name before. The irony of someone like him being named angel was also not lost on you. 
“He’s the principal’s son, which is why he can get away with acting out like that. I’d be careful around him if I were you.”
You almost snorted, but held yourself back at the last minute so that you didn’t come off as rude. Everyone in this academy had rich parents that allowed them to act however they wanted, it was practically a requirement in order to get into the school. 
Still, it was sweet of her to give you a warning anyway.
You gave her a smile, “thanks for the warning… I guess. What’s your name?”
“Oh right!” She breathed with an embarrassed smile, “I almost forgot, I’m Amelia!”
“Y/N,” you offered, “it’s nice to meet you, Amelia.”
“It’s nice to meet you too Y/N, you’re really nice,” she said, then added shyly, “it’s been kind of hard to find nice people in this Academy.”
You regarded her for a moment, contemplating her words. She must have been from one of the more lower class families. In a place where everyone was rich, the students treated each other based on how rich their families were. So while Amelia was far from worrying about when her next meal would be, she and the students like her were probably taking the brunt of the bullying in this place. 
It was a sad truth, one that had you sympathising with her. 
“People can be real jerks, I totally get it,” you agreed, offering her another smile, “but if it means anything, you can always consider me a friend. Only if you’d like to, of course.”
To your surprise, Amelia frowned, “that’s very kind of you, but… if you’re seen with me, won’t they start targeting you as well? I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
You couldn’t help but smile, a light chuckle escaping your lips before you could stop yourself, “you don’t have to worry about that, I’ll be fine.”
You were sure word must have gotten out by now about who you were. Whether it was regarding your ability or the identity of your parents, either piece of information would be more than enough to protect you from any kind of bullying. 
“Besides,” you continued, giving her a dramatic frown, “I don’t even have any friends. You’re really going to let me die of loneliness?”
Amelia just laughed, shaking her head at you, “I didn’t realise your life was on the line here. In that case, how can I say no?”
With a smile, you checked the time on your phone, noticing that your class was about to start soon, “I have class right now, so I need to get going. Maybe we can meet up during break?”
“Really?” Amelia said, almost in surprise, as her expression brightened at the offer, “of course, I would love to!” 
You nodded, “great, I’ll see you later in that case.”
You started to turn around, feeling bad that you couldn’t stay and talk to her for longer since you knew being late to class wasn’t going to do your grades any favours, but was stopped when Amelia suddenly placed her hand on your shoulder at the last second, as if she had needed to work up the courage to do it. 
“Hey, listen…” She started hesitantly, “before you go, I just wanted you to know that I’ll stand up for you if people start treating you badly because of me. I’m not the type to just watch a friend suffer silently.”
You smiled at her thoughtfulness. Obviously it was too early to tell, but you had a feeling that Amelia was going to become a pretty close friend after today. Or maybe that was just something you wanted to happen and you were projecting. Either way, you had no issues with getting closer to the sweet girl standing before you. 
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“You’re joking right?”
Namjoon stared at you incredulously, his eyes narrowing in that way that always seemed to make whoever his target was at that moment feel like they had a baseball for a brain. Hell, it used to make you feel like the dumbest person on Earth until you finally stopped letting it get to you. 
You were sitting in the same History of Magic 101 class as yesterday, except the size of the class had evidently decreased. Instead, the lecture hall was now only filled with 8 other students, male students, aside from yourself, just as Principal Park had explained. 
“The ability to control magic was completely absent during the Mesozoic era,” Namjoon continued to insist, crossing his arms over his chest. 
You sat back in your chair, mimicking his action with a raised brow, “tell that to the dinosaur bones that were recently discovered to have traces of magic in them.”
He scoffed, “humans are the only species with the ability to influence magic, so how could this ability have existed when humans didn’t?” 
Making sure to keep your gaze on Namjoon, you focused on your peripheral vision to study Ms. Kari, who was standing on the podium. To your delight, you noticed her hands placed frustratedly on her hips as she gave both you and Namjoon a look mixed with exhaustion and irritation. 
“And how do you know dinosaurs couldn’t control magic back then?” You questioned, focusing back on the man sitting a few seats away from you to goad him further, “it would explain the traces of magic found in their bones.”
Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Cheonsa throw his head back in a muted groan before propping himself forward on his hands with a sigh. The rest of the class looked back and forth between the two of you, whether invested in the debate or confused by it you didn’t know. 
“The magic in their bones could have come from anywhere!” He argued, “it could have been absorbed from their surroundings or simply remnants of life magic from when they were still alive! Today’s animals lack the ability to influence magic, therefore it’s likely that the dinosaurs were the same.”
“Not necessarily,” you shot back, “perhaps dinosaurs became extinct due to their ability to influence magic while animals today survive only because they cannot? You ever heard of selective pressures, Namjoon?”
“Then what about-”
“This is the fourth time you both have broken into an argument after I asked a simple question to the class,” Ms. Kari finally spoke, interrupting Namjoon with a scowl, “I understand that you two seem to already have extensive knowledge on the class material, but these outbursts are disrupting my teaching.”
“If they don’t stop, I will have to start taking more severe action,” she threatened, making sure to look both you and Namjoon in the eye, “is that understood?”
Namjoon gave you one last look before turning to face Ms. Kari once again, “yes, Ms. Kari.”
“It won’t happen again,” you added.
But you lied.
It was definitely going to happen again. 
If Principal Park wasn’t going to switch your cohort, then you were just going to have to take matters into your own hands. See, if you were to keep causing disruptions in class, Ms. Kari would eventually have to take it up with the Principal. And since Principal Park would have to take action, but can’t kick you out of the school, he would have no other choice but to switch your class. He’d probably switch you to private tutoring, which you were no stranger to. 
All you had to do was argue with Namjoon a few times per class, which was beyond easy considering Namjoon’s unlimited ego and his constant need to prove himself right all the time. 
If everything went as planned you’d be out of here by the end of the week. 
But until then, you’d have to survive your classes the way they were at the moment. 
So you did.
The rest of the class went smoothly for the most part, aside from a couple more small arguments you started between yourself and Namjoon, until the bell rang and everyone began making their way to the next class.
You walked into the women’s dressing room, making sure to lock it before beginning to change out of your uniform. Your next class was physical education, which required you to slip into your academy-issued gym clothes. The gym uniform consisted of a white, fitted short-sleeve t-shirt that had been tailored to your exact specifications and loose red shorts that ended just below your mid-thigh. You decided to also pull on the matching red zip-up sweater, with the gold emblem printed on the lapel unlike the formal uniform, wishing that it would protect you from more than just a chilly breeze. 
You fixed your hair up into a ponytail as you walked out of the dressing room and started making your way out of the academy. The physical education class was to be held in the field in front of the school, so you stepped onto the grass reluctantly while scanning the area. 
The guys had already arrived, each of them wearing the same uniform you were while lounging around or just casually chatting with one another as they waited for the Professor to arrive. Some had opted to wear the sweater while others had chosen to discard theirs haphazardly at the edge of the field. 
You chose to stand off to the side, unable to stop yourself from sulking a bit at not having anyone to talk to. It sucked to be in a class full of men, but you reminded yourself that you just had to wait it out for one week. Then, hopefully, your plan would grant you some form of peace.
Too in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Yoongi had walked up to you until he was standing right beside you with his arms crossed over his chest. He stood for a moment, completely unnoticed by you until he suddenly spoke. 
“Stop that.”
You turned to him, gaze unintentionally falling on the black patch covering his left eye. It came as a surprise to you that he had approached you and started up a conversation considering he didn’t seem like the type to enjoy talking to others. 
“Stop what?” You replied, turning your face away to study the field once again. 
“You’re practically burning holes through everyone’s head with your glare,” he commented, “stop it, it’s annoying.”
You scoffed. What was up with this guy and always trying to tell you what to do? Maybe Jungkook was right and he really was some creep that was into that or something.
“If it bothers you so much, you can always just go away,” you said.
You could feel his gaze boring into the side of your head, making you shift uncomfortably before you turned to glare at him. He only titled his head slightly.
“You know,” he started, “Namjoon told us about your obvious hate towards our gender. Care to explain the reasoning behind such strong feelings?”
“No.”
He narrowed his eye, opening his mouth to probably prod you further, but to your relief you noticed the Professor stepping onto the field. 
He was a tall guy, maybe one of the tallest men you’d ever seen, and dressed in a dark grey tracksuit and black dress shoes. The zip of his jacket was pulled down halfway to reveal a white collared shirt and a neatly-made maroon tie. Everything about him seemed neat. His dark brown hair was trimmed and brushed tidily to the side while his gleaming black framed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.
Without another glance towards Yoongi, you made your way towards the Professor alongside the other guys. You all formed a ring around him, waiting for him to start the class.
“This is Physical Education 101,” he said gruffly, “I’m Professor Son, but you will only refer to me as sir. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir!” You all exclaimed, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had joined the military.
“Now I know what most of your old high school Phys Ed classes must have looked like,” he said, eyeing each and every one of you, “they were seen as a break from studying, usually a period to waste time and have fun.”
“But from now on you can forget those days, because moving forward this class will take everything out of you. It will be merciless, just like the real world, so you’ll learn to suck it up, and hopefully, by the end of it, you’ll make something of yourselves.”
Mr. Son rested a hand over his hip as the other stroked his chin in thought. 
“Since today’s your first day, I’ve decided we’ll play a game of dodgeball,” he said. Then, as if a thought just occurred to him, he suddenly began to laugh, “hope you survive enough for your next class.”
There was something… scary about his laugh. While Cheonsa’s laugh had sounded like a warning, his just sounded cruel. But you were only playing dodgeball, how bad could it be?
When he finally let his laugh subside, Mr. Son waved a hand around, “now get into two teams, you’re old enough to do it on your own.”
At his words, everyone hurried to place themselves into a group as quickly as possible. Mr. Son was clearly one of the mean teachers, and no one wanted to get on the bad side of a teacher that already had it out for you. 
Since none of the guys really knew each other that well, the groups formed pretty much based on how close to each other everyone was standing. In a matter of seconds, groups of four students had formed on either side of you.
The only issue was that you had been standing mostly in the middle of the two, making you hesitate for a moment. With the groups already being equal, and you standing directly in the middle of them, you didn’t know which one you were meant to go into. But under Mr. Son’s scrutinising eye, you quickly shuffled over to the group on the right, barely paying attention to who was in that team. 
You unintentionally ended up standing next to Jungkook, who gave you a grin. He was one of the guys who had decided to discard the zip-up sweater and instead wore only the white, short-sleeve shirt with his red shorts. Under the sunlight you could make out an athletic, but toned, body, the thin material doing a poor job of hiding his prominent muscles. 
“You have a good eye, Y/N,” he said as Mr. Son turned away from the groups, “you’ve skillfully chosen the winning team, congratulations.”
Your gaze strayed from him to study the rest of the group. It was annoying that you had ended up in the same group as Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi, and of course Jungkook. But then again, joining the other group would have meant being teammates with Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Cheonsa, who were equally annoying. Basically it was a lose-lose situation either way. 
To your left Hoseok, who was on the other team, snorted, but his expression was humorous, “sorry, what was that? Did you say the losing team? Because if so you’d be right.”
“In your dreams maybe,” Jungkook laughed, only for Mr. Son to roll his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, leave the trash talking for the actual game,” he said as he brought out his wand and directed it towards the centre of the field. A neat line of dodgeballs appeared from thin air, bright red and soft-looking under the sun.
“Though we’ll see how much you’ll feel like talking soon enough. Now get in position.”
The two teams immediately separated, walking to either side of the field before crouching over the white line outlining its edge. You opted to crouch beside Jimin, who gave you a quick thumbs up before refocusing on the dodgeballs in the centre of the field. 
Even though you didn’t care much about winning a stupid game of dodgeball, you couldn’t help but study the other team anyway. Hoseok seemed the most into it as he called out suggestions to the rest of his team for reaching the dodgeballs before everyone else, while Cheonsa just rolled his eyes at the effort. Beside him Taehyung seemed just as apathetic, but he seemed to at least be a little less apparent about it. Seokjin, on the other hand, seemed like he wanted to be anywhere except here. 
The difference in attitude between Hoseok and his team was almost laughable. 
The nine of you watched Professor Son walk alongside the sidelines of the field until he paused beside the line of dodgeballs. He brought out his phone, seemingly checking something, before he faced you all once again. 
“The game begins at the sound of the whistle,” he announced, earning him a few nods. 
“Three,” he began to count, “two”
“One.”
Mr. Son suddenly brought his wand upwards, flicking his wrist so that it rounded into a circle in the air. Not even half a second later the sound of a shrill whistle cut through the silence, as clearly as if someone had blown into one right beside your ear. 
“Begin!”
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 days
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Apolo, Anubis and Heracles broken in to forgotten queen home to talk or court ( separate pls )
As kidnapping for a wife is normal for ancient times but she give a good fight and lecture them that this is her home and they have the balls to broke in without an invitation
-Back in the day, in your kingdom, it was common for men to steal away their brides, fighting brothers and fathers to prove themselves as worthy husbands who will keep their daughters and sisters safe.
-Since you were royalty, this didn’t happen to you, but you knew a handful of girls who had been ‘kidnapped’, telling you what happened and if their beau was accepted or not.
-However, most knew that you were a warrior in your own right, and if someone tried that on you, you would probably kick their ass if they tried something like that, even now in Valhalla.
-You were still a very desirable woman, many wanted to be at your side, even if you weren’t really looking at the moment, since your last relationship ended with you beheading your husband after he killed your son.
-That didn’t stop some from trying to approach you while you were out and about, wanting the chance to court you, but you always let them down politely but firmly, except for those few who couldn’t take the hint, then you had to be a bit more forceful.
-You didn’t expect to hear someone crawling through the window, as you heard the window creak softly as it swung open.
-You remained still, making it look like you were sleeping, resting in your pillow pit, curled up so comfortably, as your hand wound around a hidden blade you kept hidden under one of the pillows, just in case.
-You heard the footsteps getting closer and closer and you waited, listening carefully before you lunged, leaping up with a war cry.
-Apollo- You took him by surprise as you easily took him to the ground, straddling across his waist, holding the knife to his throat and instantly you sighed, leaning back, looking annoyed, “Really?” He grinned up at you, showing you his hands that he meant no harm, “I tried knocking but there was no answer. I wanted to come and see you~” you rolled your eyes slightly as your rolled off of him, swinging your legs lightly as he teased you, “And if I get this kind of treatment, I’ll have to come in via the window more often~” You turned, a small glare on your face and instantly he was begging you for mercy as you grabbed his cheeks, pinching and pulling them, whining about his punishment. Once you were done and he was holding his throbbing cheeks, you gave him a small smirk, “C’mon, I’ll make some coffee.” Apollo smiled warmly at you, happy you weren’t going to kick him out, as he wanted to talk a bit more with you.
-Anubis- As soon as the knife pressed against his neck and you saw who it was you relaxed, letting yourself sit across his lap as Anubis was stammering lightly, obviously not expecting you to attack him like that. You glared slightly down at him, “And why couldn’t you use the front door?” he just grinned brightly up at you, letting his eyes close, “I wanted to surprise you! Instead, I was the one that was surprised.” You chuckled softly, moving the blade away from his neck and you went to move before his hands came to your hips, holding you there, “Hey now, you don’t need to move~” WHACK! Moments later he was sitting, pouting with a new lump on his head as his arms were crossed across his chest, glaring over at you slightly which made you smile softly, finding it funny, “Now you know not to touch without permission. If you’re a good boy~ you can have some coffee together.” Instantly his mood shifted as he beamed, cheering out as he hurried after you, happy that you didn’t hate him.
-Hercules- While you didn’t knock him down, as he caught you when you leapt up, your legs around his neck and the blade pointing at his eye. He lifted his hands, worried that you would fall, not at all bothered by the position you were in. You instantly relaxed as he beamed up at you, “I tried knocking but you weren’t answering, so I got worried.” You couldn’t help but smile, pulling the blade away from his face, your hands coming to your fists, “You could have knocked on the window instead of just coming in like a creeper.” He laughed warmly, his hands grabbing your hips and pulled you off easily, “At least I know you can protect yourself if someone was a threat.?” You glanced back with a small wink, “You could stay and protect me if you want to~” he was surprised by your flirt, a grin appearing on his lips as the two of you shared a laugh, but he would gladly do that for you as you headed towards your kitchen to make him some coffee.
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saggitary · 8 months
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Clones and Chaperoning
Ahsoka often stays at the barracks late into the night when they are on shore leave playing cards or just having fun with her men and has to catch a taxi back to the Temple. One day she makes an offhand comment about how some of the drivers can give off really bad vibes or are just kind of creepy but that’s the only way she can get home before curfew.
The 501st immediately has a brain reset because they are suddenly reminded that their commander is a 15 year old girl, even if she’s a highly capable warrior, and they internally panic.
Rex, Jesse, and Echo are quick to start stepping up to volunteer to chaperone her back to the temple, Ahsoka is a little confused at their sudden insistence but she doesn’t mind the company. It quickly becomes a coveted job in the 501st to chaperone their commander back to the Temple, the rivalry gets bad enough that they have to implement a rotating queue of who gets the job.
Everything is going quite smoothly until one night Rex goes out to see Commander Cody climbing into the speeder with Ahsoka and gets flipped off by his older brother.
The 501st declares war in the 212th shortly after.
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elliebartlets · 2 months
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so much shit is going on with all sides of my family and I’m feeling very overwhelmed
#my grandfather is probably going to die within the year#and I walked in on my mom crying the other day about it#which made me sad and made it more real#cause it feels like it was a long time coming but also feels like it happened too fast#my great aunt has really bad problems with her hip and can’t get it replaced because she’s so old and had a stroke#so there’s a risk of putting her under anesthesia#and not only is she in so much pain and can barely move to eat or go to the bathroom#but she lives alone and her daughters who live near her won’t visit her!!!#she has a granddaughter who visits her the most but she’s also busy with work and her kid and stuff#I truly don’t know all the details but they’ve always been weird like the one daughter always accused her husband (her stepdad) of#“playing favorites” with the other daughter. and it’s like? get over yourself#I’d understand if my great aunt was a horrible mother or something but she doesn’t seem to be#plus she raised her granddaughter (one of her daughters kids) so the least that daughter could do is fucking visit her#idk I just feel so bad for her and hope she’s ok#plus there’s stuff going on with my brother which I’m not getting into on here#it’s just like all of this was slowly building up and it all crashed down at once#oh and my uncles mom died (not my grandmother or blood related to me at all) and my aunt will not go to the funeral cause my one uncles#sister is a total c u next Tuesday#like I met my uncles 2 sisters once 20+ years ago when I was in my aunts wedding#so I don’t remember them but everything I hear about them reminds me of the sopranos family#stereotypical new jersey Italian family that hates each other#like down to the siblings too. one sister who is insane and starts fights (Janice) and the other who is more “normal” who I don’t#hear about as much (baraba)#then you have my uncle who is very hot and cold like Tony soprano. plus possibly involved in the mafia or mob or something#I’m not overwhelmed by my uncles family/mom dying btw#it’s just some family drama that’s adding fuel to the fire of stuff happening#ANYWAY#breakdown/vent over! back to my assignments!#personal
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tariah23 · 1 year
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The boss fight is impossible for me 🗣️… Kromer…. This shit is a gazillion worse than 2-10 Arknights and I think I’ll still have a better chance of beating that eventually over THIS. This difficulty spike in LCB is so scary right at the very beginning…
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weaselle · 1 year
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i wanna do a thing where i lay out studies that show things in different primates that show us parts of ourselves as humans. Call it Primates: Through the Looking Glass or The Monkey in the Mirror or something
There are studies and documentaries that show things about Gorillas, Chimpanzees, Bonobos, Baboons, Macaques... that just make sense to me. That if shown right would make sense to a lot of people, i think.
like... they were studying this one group of gorillas --
okay wait. First of all, you know a silverback (the Big Male) of the group is not the leader or in charge or anything, right? He has a role, and it includes a certain amount of control, which i’ll explain briefly, but he’s not, like, in charge.
wait, you know all that Dominance/Alpha theory about wolves is all wrong, right?
wait wait wait, and also that like, the bull or the stag or whatever in a herd is not in charge of anything, right? right?
hold on. the wolves is it’s own post, the herd thing i might get back to, we’re on gorillas, okay. Silverback is basically just the male head of an extended family in which plenty of the leadership is handled by the women of the family.
There are often 2-4 silverbacks, but one, usually the largest, will clearly be senior to the others who are often his sons or brothers. Silverbacks have three main roles
1: defend the group from all physical threats aside from people, these threats are mostly random male gorillas, chimpanzee baby-snatching gangs, and the occasional leopard. Just his alert presence handles most scenarios, and then maybe a few times a year he has to risk his life fulfilling this responsibility. It is this role that provides most of whatever actual power he has over the group, namely this: while he isn’t necessarily the one deciding when and where the group goes on a daily basis, if the most powerful/capable silverback does decide to travel a direction, they pretty much have to go with him, the family isn’t safe without him.
2: make babies. And this is one area where the ladies of the group will sometimes sort of vote with their ovaries, and favor a silverback that isn’t the main one, like “yeah, Frank, you are the biggest, but honestly you’re a dick and we’re going to make sure the next generation of silverbacks isn’t another one of you.” When you see a main large silverback in a group of gorillas, it isn’t, like, his blindly loyal harem, they have to approve of him. Also gorilla females move between groups, and sometimes they take members with them or start new groups and stuff. Anyway i’m getting off track, one of the silverbacks jobs is making babies
3. keep the peace This functions a lot like being in the back seat with your siblings with your parents up front. Basically any disputes within the group have to be handled within a certain parameter of decorum, because if it gets too out of hand HE’s going to come over, and He’ll be upset, which is low-key terrifying because He’s huge, and there’s no telling who He’ll decide is at fault or what he’ll do about it, so letting a situation get out of hand is a losing scenario for everyone involved really. Tho typically he will favor senior females in disputes, in a “don’t you talk that way to your mom” kind of way.
one last thing, silverbacks don’t actually transfer power between silverbacks via battle every time.
Like i was just reading accounts from a multi-generational observational study of some wild gorillas that featured one big silverback just straight up taking over by performing the silverback duties better and becoming preferred by everyone else in the group. There was no fight, it just became, i do the job better, everyone likes me better, kicking my ass can’t change that, and boom, he was the primary silverback. And the other silverback might have been a bit dull, or a bit of a bully, but like us their species’ success is largely dependent on social intelligence; once he saw the writing on the wall, that other, slightly larger sivlerback didn’t even bother trying to change the situation with a physical fight, he understood what had happened.
okay so all that was just to tell you all this story. lol. Here’s what i saw in one documentary:
This very big, getting old silverback, who was hugely popular and successful, with a very large and tightly bonded family group, and a couple of his hulking adult sons backing him up. Everybody in his group seemed to love him a lot, he was particularly calm in that gentle giant sort of way, a safe, emotionally steady presence, happy to help raise his sons and daughters with kindness, and who could become a raging nightmare if pressed by a leopard ... exactly what a band of gorillas wants in a silverback.
But one of his adult sons had plenty of silver on his own back, and was getting itchier and itchier to be main man of the group, and this is where we start our little drama
It seems to be coming to a head, and the observers are nervous about a fight for the position. The silverback and his son are both are huge, probably approaching 400lbs, mostly muscle, with long thick fangs and skulls topped with jaw muscles as big as human biceps to wield those teeth, which nature has given them primarily to fight other gorillas with. 
But then the next day, the old man leads the fam up the mountain.
it’s winter, which is why they have come down the mountain in the first place. But as we discussed, if he goes somewhere, they have to go, so they all follow behind.
up he goes, and then he sits. And waits. It’s cold and there is much less food up here at this time of year. There’s nothing to do but sit hungry in the cold. His size and metabolism makes him the most able to withstand the cold, but even he is pretty uncomfortable. 
And so he sits. And his family, perhaps confused, but loyal, sits around him.
But his son, the other huge silverback, with years of training even as an adult under his wise father, is ready and able to go off on his own. Finally, he stands up, makes clear his intentions to leave this uncomfortable place. A small handful of the other gorillas stand with him -- if he goes down the mountain, then they can safely leave as well. He turns and heads down the mountain. After a moment, a few more gorillas leave the main group to follow. All in all it winds up being nearly half.
The wise older silverback thoughtfully watches his son leave with about half the group. He sits a while longer in the cold, in the company of those most loyal to him, and then takes them along a different path down the mountain
And those two groups still ran into each other sometimes, and were friendly. And sometimes a couple gorillas would change between the two groups. They were still close.
But i just thought that was such an elegant, meaningful way for that gorilla to handle that whole situation. And it makes a completely human sort of sense to me. 
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sturniolosstar · 16 days
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older┆m.sturniolo
summary - what it’s like to have an older boyfriend <3
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ᯓ★ pairing - dilf!matthew sturniolo x female reader
ᯓ★ cw - legal age gap, suggestive themes, kissing, mentions of sex, mentions of threesome, fingering, eating out, lowercase intended
⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑
always protective and looking out for you.
at parties, you’re by his side with his arm around your waist. while shopping, his hand is always resting on your lower back as you walk from store to store. whenever he takes you out, his fingers are intertwined with yours so you don’t go wondering off.
kisses anywhere and everywhere.
forehead kisses while you fall asleep in his arms after a long day, pecks on your cheeks from time to time as you clean up the house, long and passionate kisses on the lips as he slips his tongue into your mo-
“wear what you want, i can fight.”
you can bet your ass you can wear whatever you want. after all, who is he to complain when he’s the one taking it off at the end of the day? he also loves the way you’re always so put together and cleanly dressed, no matter the occasion.
always has time for you.
on the days he’s busy, he makes time. youtube isn’t forever, him and his brothers are aware of that. so when it came to working, he doesn’t hesitate to call in sick or get someone to fill in for him just so he can spend an extra day with his girl.
causal acts of dominance.
he’s the older one in the relationship, why wouldn’t he make sure the little things are taken care of so you won’t have to worry about them? doors are always held open for you, he’s on his knees when your shoelaces become undone, his hand covers the sharp corners of tables and counters whenever you bend down near them.
your priorities over his.
of course he takes care of himself, but when it comes to you? he’ll drop everything. when on your period, he calls off work to spend the day in bed with you. when you feel sick, he already has soup made and your heating pad is all warm. whenever you run out of a product, a new one is on your vanity within an hour. whenever you complain about not having anything to wear, you’re driven to the shopping centre as you try on anything your heart desires. and he of course buys them all.
spending all his money on you.
there’s no doubt about the fortune made from his previous youtube career, but with a good paying job ten years later? it doesn’t take a genius to know that every dollar and penny he earns is spent on you. he never listens to your mewls of complains, he simply shuts you up with a kiss to your pouted lips. “c’mon, honey. why’re you fighting me on this?” “who else would i spend all of this on?
your pleasure is his number one consideration.
the fact that he’s older and the amount of experience he has? whew. there is no question about how he makes you sees stars every night. when in between your legs, his hands are groping the soft flesh of your thighs as his tongue flicks on your clit. when fingering you, he presses your hips down on the mattress to keep you still due to all your squirming. when stuffing your cunt full of his cock, he never fails to finish inside of you at the feeling of your nails scratching down his back and the sight of your eyes rolled back to your head as drool dribbles down the corners of your mouth.
getting over his protective persona and deciding to share you.
he’s no idiot, he sees the way you look at chris whenever he takes you to visit his family and who is he to not fulfil his girl’s desires? it started off with letting chris become touchy with you; brushing your hair out of your face while he’s standing before you, subtle touches while walking past you, hand resting on your hip while he’s beside you. it ended with you writhing in his silk sheets beneath him and his brother as they completely ruin you; from prepping you with their fingers and tongue to filling you from both ends with their cocks.
in the end, you have no regrets about choosing someone older.
⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑
author’s note - this was written, proofread and edited all on the same day. r u guys proud of me 😕😕
taglist - @btwsturn @thesturniolos @mattsbratt69 @stramboli4life @ducksturniolo @st4rhubz @sturns-posts @sturniolo14 @sturnioloenthusiast @ivonchetooo1239 @littlebookworm803 @bellas-de3d @mattsneezing @sturniofilmd @athenamossymandella @mattslolita @ellie-luvsfics @st7rnioioss @qwertytit @33sturniolo @ilovechrissturniolo1 @muwapsturniolo @sturniolos-blog @realuvrrr @blahbel668 @sstvrnioloo @mattslutt @styles-sturniolo @wild4sturns @solarsturniolo @cypher-net @erikasurfer @pepsiluvr0209 @gamermattsgf @junnniiieee07 @stonermattsgf @55sturn @lookingformyromeo @nicksbestie @strombolilovr @imsosillygoofylol @riasturns @sturncakez
⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑
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verstappen-cult · 21 days
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PLEASEEEEE A LESTAPPEN X READER where reader and Charles are meeting jimmy and sassy for the first time hahahahah I think that would be fun! Thank youuuu
“What are you doing?” You ask Charles, who’s taking a little spray bottle out of his back pocket, as you walk out of the elevator. 
“I read that cats like catnip.”
“You’re not going to spray catnip all over yourself!” You snatch the bottle out of his hands, making him pout at you. “I won’t let them like you more than me.”
“But what if they don’t like us at all?” Charles looks genuinely concerned and you fight the urge to laugh until you start thinking about it. 
Max loves his cats, they’re his whole world. You’ve lost count of how many pictures he’s sent to the group chat just this week, so meeting Jimmy and Sassy is equivalent to meeting his family. And oh God, Charles is right. What are you going to do if they don’t like you? Max warned you that Sassy doesn’t like strangers and it takes her a while to warm up, and that Jimmy tends to perch up on one of the high shelves in the kitchen until he feels secure enough to come down. So, at least you know what to expect at first. But what if they react badly? What if they feel threatened by you and Charles? What if they feel jealous and don’t let you near Max!?
“Okay, I think we can spray some catnip over ourselves.” Charles’ face lights up, immediately taking the bottle from your hands and spraying some of it around himself. “But just a little.”
Charles is spraying you when the door opens revealing a very amused Max. 
“What is that?” He asks with a smirk on his face. 
“Perfume!” You say, taking the bottle and shoving it in your back pocket.
Max looks between you and Charles before stepping aside to let you into his apartment. He gives you two a chaste kiss on the lips before closing the door. 
“What have you got there?” Max points to the bag in your hands. 
“Oh, we bought some toys for the cats!” Charles says excitedly, taking the bag out of your hands and pulling the contents out. “Where are they?”
Max points a finger to the couch. And they’re right there, sitting on top of the cushions and looking warily at you and Charles. 
“Hello, beautiful babies!” Charles squeaks, dragging you to the living room with him.
Sassy jumps off the couch, running to hide under a chair, far enough to still see you without being bothered. Jimmy, on the other hand, stays right where he is as Charles brings his hand closer to him. He doesn’t move, but sniffs his hand for about five seconds before rubbing his head against it. 
Charles looks very pleased as he sits besides Jimmy. and he immediately jumps onto his lap, getting comfortable and asking for more ear scratches with a little purr. 
Sassy, seeing how her brother is reacting, slowly makes her way back to the living room. She’s still unsure, so you grab one of the toys and crouch down, trying to lure her over to you. It takes her a couple of minutes to feel safe enough to shorten the distance, and you stop moving as she sniffs you, rubbing herself against your legs, not wanting to scare her.
You look back at Max with a big smile on your face, but he’s looking between you and Charles with a combination of surprise and confusion on his face. 
“This is weird behavior.” He says, standing in the middle of his living room. He’s frowning and you can’t help but giggle. 
“What can I say?” Jimmy is still purring on Charles' lap and you’re pretty sure he will never move from there again. “I’m irresistible.” He says, shrugging. Which is, you know, kinda true. Who can resist Charles Leclerc? Neither you nor Max could.
You’re too busy playing with Sassy to care about Max's hand on your lower back. If he wants cuddles, he can wait, right now all your attention is on the cats. 
However, when you feel his hand on the back pocket of your jeans, you forget all about the little cat between your legs with her belly up waiting to be patted. 
You and Charles make eye contact.
You’ve been caught.
“I knew it wasn’t perfume!”
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nadvs · 1 month
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bittersweet (one-shot)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning alcohol use
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summary rafe both loves and hates that you’re his sister’s best friend. he gets to see you all the time, but it’s a constant reminder of what he can’t have… until one night, when his jealousy takes over and he can’t keep himself from you any longer.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
Rafe wonders if you know that he can hear you. It’s just false hope, but maybe you’re trying to make him jealous.
You’re in the bathroom getting ready for tonight’s party with Sarah, your pretty laugh reverberating through him as if he’s right next to you.
But he’s not. He’s never been as close to you as he would like to be.
His bedroom is right next door, where he’s sitting in bed, wasting time scrolling on his phone, eavesdropping.
“You’re lying,” Sarah says.
“I’m dead serious,” you reply. “I’ll read it to you.”
Rafe overhears you reading out a text you got from your ex last night… he loves you, he misses you, he shouldn’t have ever broken up with you.
He remembers seeing you in tears a few weeks ago when you visited his sister. Admittedly, he lingered by Sarah’s closed door, hearing you sniffle through your words about how he had dumped you out of no where.
It made his blood boil knowing someone did that to you. But like always, he pretended like you have no effect on him, later passing you by in the hallway without a single word exchanged.
“Do you think you’ll get back together with him?” Sarah asks after you finish reading the message.
“No way,” you reply. This makes Rafe’s heart feel a little lighter. Until he hears your next words. “I hope that guy I was talking to last weekend shows up tonight.”
Rafe fucking hates hearing you talking about guys you like. His crush on you is too big to not let it rattle him. And tonight, he might have to watch you flirt with someone that’s not him in his own fucking house?
He can’t take it anymore, rushing to the bathroom to see you standing by the mirror, your makeup halfway done.
“Do you have to be so loud?” Rafe snaps.
The only way he can talk to you without throwing any flags up is by being a dick. And admittedly, it kind of feels good getting his sexual frustration over you out like this, even though it’s severely misguided.
Sarah only rolls her eyes, having fully resorted to ignoring him at this point, but you smile at him in that way that makes his heart jump.
“Okay, grumpy,” you laugh. You’re in baggy sweats and big t-shirt and still manage to look fucking stunning. “You’re one to talk.”
Rafe knows you’re referring to the many fights of his that you’ve witnessed, both with his family and with people at parties.
He hates that your smile and your teasing make him want you even more.
He scowls at you but before he steps away, his eyes linger on you a little longer than you think they should. Wishful thinking, you tell yourself. You gave up on the fantasy that Rafe will look at you as anything more than his sister’s annoying best friend a long time ago.
“Sorry,” Sarah says, apologizing on behalf of her brother like always.
“Don’t worry about it,” he hears you respond. “I know what he’s like.”
Rafe shuts his door. What he’s like. You don’t fucking know what he’s like at all.
If you knew that you’re his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night, you’d realize he’s so fucking grumpy because he doesn’t get to talk to you how he wants to. Or touch you how he wants to.
He’ll have to avoid you at his party tonight. He’s not interested in seeing you flirt with some jackass.
That night, Rafe is halfway into a beer, zoning out of the conversation his friends are having around him.
You’re on the other side of the room, arm linked with Sarah’s. You’ve changed out of your comfortable clothes, wearing a dress that leaves little to the imagination. Man, what he’d do to you if he had the chance.
But he knows he doesn’t. You’ve seen him at his worst. Who in their right mind would want him?
As you chat with Sarah, your eyes drift to Rafe every so often. You can’t help it.
There’s something about his presence that’s so magnetic and dominant. And why is it when he’s wearing his hat backwards like that, your stomach does somersaults?
You need to get your mind off of him. It’s never gonna happen.
Then your eyes land on your ex-boyfriend, who just entered the room.
Rafe watches your face drop and your eyes lose their light. You turn to look at Sarah, whispering something to her, then disappear into the crowd. When he realizes your idiot of an ex just showed up, it takes everything in him not to crush the solo cup he’s holding.
He told himself he’d avoid you. He needs to keep his own promise.
Later in the night, you’re filling up your cup at the keg when you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“Don’t hog it,” he says, a joking tone to his voice. You turn to see your ex standing behind you. You only furrow your brows, in disbelief that he thinks he can speak to you so casually.
You don’t respond and he awkwardly shuffles in place.
“Did you get my text?” he asks.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you say. It’s been weeks, but being with him again brings it all back, the way he told you he doesn’t see a future with you anymore. Instead of sorrow, though, you just feel anger.
“Can you just… can you give me five minutes?” he asks.
“Leave me alone,” you tell him. Rafe appears behind your ex, his blue eyes fixed on you. He’s angry like he always is, his jaw clenched.
You figure he’s annoyed that you’re using the keg when he wants to top up his own drink.
“I don’t get why we can’t just-” he continues, but is interrupted.
“She said to leave her alone,” Rafe mutters. Your ex turns around to face him.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
“This is my house.” Rafe has to duck to talk to him. The image stirs something in you. “Either stop bothering her or get the fuck out.”
Your ex turns to look at you, shaking his head in confusion.
“This your new boyfriend?” he asks, voice thick with envy.
“What? No,” you reply. The way you look almost appalled by the prospect makes Rafe feel like his heart is being wrung out.
You almost laugh. As if Rafe would want you.
Your ex turns to face Rafe again. In the tension of the moment, you feel a lump form in your throat. Anger from what your ex did to you. Embarrassment that he won’t leave you alone. Excitement that Rafe is defending you, followed by a sharp sadness that he’ll never see you the way you see him.
Rafe is about to swing at him. But then he sees the look on your face and his anger dissolves.
“Fuck off,” Rafe says sternly.
Your ex looks at you incredulously. You’re sure he knows Rafe would take him down in a second.
When he walks away, leaving you and Rafe just a foot apart, you flatten your lips as you look up at him.
“Thanks,” you say quietly. You never thought you’d thank him for anything.
Rafe’s eyes soften when he realizes your eyes are wet with the threat of tears. You feel mortified to be crying in front of him, so you leave your drink on the table behind you and brush past him, stalking upstairs to the same bathroom you did your makeup in.
Your hands grip the counter as you look at your reflection. You managed to swallow down your tears, determined to have a good night.
Three knocks thud against the door.
“Someone’s in here!” you say, weak voice echoing through the small room.
“It’s Rafe,” you hear.
Your heart leaps. What the hell could he have to say to you?
You swing open the door to meet his gaze. He’s wearing an expression you haven’t seen before.
Rafe can’t fucking take it anymore. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him, boxing you in between his body and the wall. His arms are crossed to keep himself from touching you.
“Why were you with him?” he demands.
“What?” you ask. He’s mad. Of course he’s mad. This is Rafe. Mad is his default setting.
“He’s obviously a fucking idiot,” he snaps. “And an asshole.” You’re not sure if this is some cruel display of annoyance, but you don’t have the patience for it.
Still, a part of you is buzzing to be alone with him.
“Why are you giving me shit right now?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. He brings his hand up to yours, pushing it away from your face.
It’s the first time his skin has ever touched yours.
“Why were you with him?” Rafe repeats. He’s so close to you that you can smell him. His aroma is earthy, like a comforting campfire. But nothing about him is warm. Never has been.
“How do you even know…” you mumble in confusion. You realize you have no clue how he knows that the guy he almost fought downstairs was your ex. “You don’t know anything about the situation.”
“I heard you,” he says. “I heard you crying over him. Why were you with someone who said that shit to you?”
Rafe recalls the way you told his sister that your ex called you names during your last fight. It made him sick.
You freeze for a moment. He heard you? Why the hell would he care to listen?
“Well, sorry I was being loud,” you say, still a little bitter about how he talked to you earlier tonight even though you had laughed it off in front of him. “Can you just… give me a break? It’s been a shitty night. I don’t need you judging me on top of it.”
“God, that’s…” Rafe steps back, taking off his hat just to smooth his hair back and put it back on again. “I’m not judging you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
A few heavy, tense seconds pass between you. Rafe is looking down at you, at how pretty you are, at how badly you need to be appreciated.
Then he leans down to press his lips against yours.
You were wrong. Rafe does have warmth to him. He’s nothing but warmth right now. The way his hot mouth captures yours and the way his hands cradle your cheeks fill you with need and happiness and a whirling sensation of unsteadiness.
Is this actually happening?
Rafe’s whole body buzzes when you kiss him back, your hands hooking up around his arms, palms on his shoulder blades. He’s pressed up against you, deepening the kiss, his tongue running over yours.
He wasn’t annoyed. He was jealous. You feel dizzy from the revelation.
Your back is flush against the wall, Rafe’s body curved against yours. He bites on your bottom lip for a second, sending an arousing pinch of pain through you, as if he’s punishing you for making him yearn for you.
The contradiction between your mind and your body is jarring - you thought he was annoyed by you, but he’s kissing you like he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t kiss you before.
Tasting and touching you like this makes Rafe harden, and he perches his hips back, unsure if this is too much for you. When your hands slide down to roughly pull his hips back towards you, he doesn’t need any more signals. You want him just as bad and it makes every inch of his skin burn.
Rafe shifts back, forehead pressed against yours, unable to open his eyes for a second.
“I need…” His voice is hoarse. He can’t do it like this. Not with you against a wall in the bathroom. “Let’s go to my room.”
You nod and follow him, letting him lead you onto his bed.
Your eyelashes overlap as Rafe hovers over you in his dark room, kissing you again. Tucked away from the crowds and music downstairs, all you can hear is the sounds of your lips smacking together and his fast breaths.
You spread your knees apart so he can settle between your legs. Desire consumes you as he grinds his cock against you. The sensation awakens the need you’ve had for him for so long but always told yourself you’re not allowed to feel.
You can’t help but feel a gnawing fear that this is just a meaningless encounter to him. You’re not equipped to deal with being just a piece of ass to Rafe. Sex with him will change everything. It needs to be worth it.
You gently push against his chest and worry floods through Rafe that he did something to make you uncomfortable.
He’s looking down at you in the shadows of his bedroom, his breaths shallow and fast.
“We shouldn’t…” you begin, and he nods quickly, arms straightening to sit up. Shit. He fucked up by kissing you. He’s not worth the risk to you.
But again, you pull him back in, this time with your hands cupped on his shoulders.
“Rafe, wait,” you breathe. “I’m saying… we shouldn’t if you don’t…” You take a beat to gain some courage. “I like you. For real. I’m not doing this if I’m just a hook-up to you.”
Rafe didn’t realize how heavy his heart sat in his chest until he hears you say that. He looks at you with wonder.
“You’re not just a hook-up,” he says, as if it’s obvious to you. “I like you so fucking much. I have for so long.”
“You mean it?” you ask. You realize this man has the power to break your heart.
He kisses you like you’re so damn delicate, like you could break in a second. The way you just said that, the edge and fragility of your voice, makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. You feel it, too. It’s not just him.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I mean it.”
Your lips meet again with even more heat this time. He grinds against you with more pressure than before, his erection hard and big.
The fact that you’re the reason he’s so turned on is unreal.
Rafe’s hands dip under the hemline of your dress, fingers ghosting over your thighs. You tilt your hips up off the bed to offer him the space to pull your dress up. He immediately takes the invitation, watching you in awe as the fabric slides over your chest, your shoulders, finally off your body.
His open mouth attaches to the flesh of your breast, kissing and sucking. He pulls the cup of your bra down to close his lips over your nipple. The sensation makes you tremble and moan.
Your pretty sounds are better than anything he has ever heard.
His tongue flicks and wriggles over your nipple, then he moves to your other breast, eager to give all of you the attention you deserve.
“Let me eat you out,” he stammers. “Please.”
“Yes,” you whisper.
For so long. He said that he’s liked you for so long. Your mind is rustling with excitement and disbelief, your thoughts tangling together as you think back to every time he looked at you. Every time he spoke to you.
It’s crazy to think you can now reframe all those memories, knowing what you know now.
Rafe pulls your panties down and wishes his lights weren’t off so he could see you better. But what he does see in the dimness confirms what he always knew - that every part of you is beautiful.
You feel his fingers spread you apart, the cool air pressing against your core. The image makes his stomach numb with infatuation.
“Fuck,” he says, nearly whining. “Fuck… I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could do this.”
“Me, too,” you admit breathlessly. “I never thought you… wanted me.”
“Of course I do,” he half-chuckles. He regrets ever making you feel like you’re not desirable. You’re perfect.
Rafe dips his head. You’re like sugar on his tongue. You gasp when he presses his mouth against your clit. He can’t believe how much arousal is pooling between your legs as he starts to lap at you.
“You’re so wet for me,” he praises, planting a kiss on your cunt. His tongue twists and curls and when it dips inside of you, you feel like you’re on another planet.
He readjusts his hands to spread you even wider, wanting to pamper every fucking inch of you.
You bunch his hat between your fingers and throw it off of him to feel his hair. You dreamed of touching his hair for so damn long. You can’t help but tug at his roots as he gifts you with the best feeling you’ve ever had.
The thick, wet sounds of him slurping fill you with bliss. His mouth is giving you so much damn pleasure, the same mouth that would snap at you and frown at you and make you wonder why he disliked you so much.
It was all an act. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
You felt how big he is when he was grinding against you. You need him to fuck you. Now.
“Rafe,” you moan.
“Hmm?” he says, mouth still closed around your clit, sending a vibration through you.
“Get inside me,” you whisper. “I can’t wait anymore.”
His heart is thrumming with exhilaration. He still can’t believe that you want him.
He pulls off his t-shirt and unbuttons his jeans with such fever that you smile in endearment. He’s moving like you’ll change your mind or come to your senses or something.
He sits over you on his knees, holding his cock at the base. It’s big and curved so fucking perfectly that you start to ache for him even more.
This will change everything and you’re so glad it will.
Rafe slowly drops to rest on his elbow on top of you, his other hand guiding him into your soaked entrance. You shudder in near unison as he pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.
“Damn,” he groans, unrestrained. “You feel so fucking good.”
“What you expected?” you ask, a small hint of insecurity in your tone.
“Baby,” he laughs. The nickname makes your body tingle. “Even better.”
He pulls back slowly, then buries into you again, a deep, languid exhale leaving his lips. He ducks to kiss you as he fucks you slowly and lovingly, stretching you out, your chests pressed together.
His pace begins to quicken, the curve of his cock hitting deep inside you so perfectly.
“Can I go harder?” he asks against your mouth.
“As hard as you can,” you request. He shudders as he pulls back and slams into you with all his force. Your body jolts, his bed squeaking.
“Be mine,” he says between thrusts. “I need you to be mine.”
“I am,” you say. “I always was.”
This sends him over the edge. He’s about to cum, but he needs to get you there first.
To your disappointment, he pulls out, but when his mouth is back on you and his fingers are scissoring into you, you lift your feet off the bed and throw your head back.
Your walls start to flutter around him as you cum and he quickly shifts to stuff his cock back into you so you’ll finish around him. He feels his gut tighten and he explodes into you with a string of oh, fuck’s, your pussy squeezing around him in pulses as he spasms through his orgasm.
Rafe loves the way your arms and legs are wrapped around him. He feels so needed by you. It’s like a drug.
He collapses on top of you, holding himself up the best he can so not to crush you.
You’re both sweaty and breathless and smiling. He dips his head to press his warm cheek against yours as you remain wrapped up in each other.
“So was I,” he mutters against your ear.
“What?” you breathe, your legs numb from pleasure.
“I was always yours, too,” he says. He kisses the side of your neck, wishing he could never leave this moment. You let out a sweet laugh, squeezing his big, hard body tighter.
He’s never going to make you doubt if he really likes you ever again. He’s sure of it. He silently vows it as he kisses your neck countless more times.
inspired by this anon! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘
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joekeeryswife · 4 months
Note
Hi I wanted to request Felix and reader getting into a huge fight over rumors of him and India hooking up. Lots of angst that leads to fluff😭 thank youuuu
The party - f.c
hello honeys! first Felix imagine eeek. FELIX DOES NOT DIE AT THE PARTY IN THIS FIC! i’m too excited. i hope you like how i interpreted your request🫶🏼 anyways, i hope you enjoy this imagine! (lmk if i should make a taglist for Felix!)
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“Venetia, have you seen Felix? i cannot find him anywhere” you had been looking for Felix everywhere. you had left his side for two seconds to get a drink and when you came back he was no where to be found.
“i saw him with Ollie and i think her name is India? find Ollie, he will know where he is” Venetia said as she scanned the room to see if she could see her brother. you furrowed your brows, India was here? Felix hadn’t told you India was coming.
in the two summers you had grown incredibly close with Venetia, she was the sweetest girl and you were lucky that she was your boyfriends sister. “i’ll keep looking but if you see him, please tell him i’m looking for him” Venetia nodded “of course, don’t worry about India. i didn’t know she was coming either. but good luck okay?” she winked.
the house was huge, one of the biggest houses you’d ever seen and finding him would be nearly impossible without some sort of indication as to where Felix was. you went into the garden eyes darting in every direction seeing if you could see the tall boy anywhere but it was no use, it was like he completely vanished.
“y/n darling, are you okay?” you heard Elspeth say as you huffed, you turned to look at her and nodded slightly. “yeah i’m okay, i’m just looking for Felix is all” she smiled “he couldn’t of gone too far, don’t worry about him. i saw him with Ollie and some girl, maybe check the library? or the maze?” you nodded and thanked her as you started making your way toward the maze.
the maze was where you and Felix liked to go when you wanted some alone time. even though you both loved spending time with his family, sometimes the two of you just wanted to be alone and the maze was the perfect place for the.
as you started making your way through the maze you saw Oliver walking back out. “Ollie thank god, have you seen Felix? i’ve been looking for him everywhere” he jumped when he saw you “y/n, what are you doing here?” his thick accent filling the quiet maze.
“Elspeth told me you’d be in here and she said guy were with Felix. is he down here-” you started to walk down the maze but Oliver quickly stopped you. “y/n you don’t want to go down there” your heart started pounding.
“why?” you looked at him and by the look on your face you knew something was happening. “he invited India here. me and Felix had a fight and the two of them came in here. when i came here to apologise the two of them were hooking up. i’m so sorry”
you felt your eyes fill with tears and your heart dropped. Felix was cheating on you? you knew the two of them had some sort of history before you and Felix got together but that was two years ago. you felt your chin quiver and a few tears slip down your face. just as you were about to walk away Felix and India came round the corner.
Felix saw you and the smile on his face dropped when he saw your face. you had tears rolling down your cheeks, he quickly started making his way toward you but you just shook your head and started walking out of the maze.
“y/n sweetheart what’s the matter?” he called out but it was too late, you’d ran off. Felix was confused, Oliver had been told by his mum that he could invite anyone he wanted so he invited India and a few other girls from college.
he left India standing there to chase after you, he was still utterly confused as to why you were crying. he brushed past Oliver who felt like he had succeeded, he had tricked you into believing that Felix had cheated on you which would no doubt lead to the two of you breaking up which mean Oliver could have Felix all to himself.
he saw you running into the house, brushing past the hundreds of people which filled practically the whole house. Venetia saw you crying and was confused, what could have happened in that short amount of time.
Felix lost you in the crowds of people but spotted his sister and briskly walked toward her. “Venetia, have you seen y/n? she was crying and i need to make sure she’s okay” she frowned “i think she went to your bedroom but i’m not too sure, she went in that direction” by the time she had finished her sentence he was already gone, running off to his bedroom to find you.
he ran up the stairs to his bedroom and put his ear to the door, he could hear your small sobs and his heat broke. he knocked on the door and walked in, seeing you sat on his bed with your suitcase half packed with your belongings. “what’s the matter? why are you packing your stuff?” he frowned.
“i don’t know Felix, why don’t you tell me?” his frown deepened. “don’t act so innocent okay? i know everything. and it’s a shitty move that you brought her here. you have no idea how embarrassing this is” he could control the small smile that formed on his face as he saw your jealousy peak through. he thought maybe you were jealous that India was here, not that he was cheating on you with her.
“what? are you a little jealous?” he smirked “i can’t believe you’re making a joke about this right now. i’m going home” his face fell. he made his way over to you “what happened, i’m sorry for whatever i did” he pouted but you scoffed and rolled your eyes “yeah well i don’t think sorry is gonna cut it this time Felix”
“okay i seriously have no idea what you are on about. why are you so upset” he tried to sit next to you but you scooted away from him. a whole batch of fresh tears filled your eyes, your head fell into your hands as you tried to hide how hurt you were. “come on baby, talk to me” he placed his hand on your leg and stroked it gently.
“don’t call me that, not after what you did” you pushed his hand away from you as a few tears fell. “what did i do? you’re confusing me” you looked at him with bloodshot eyes “you slept with India.” he looked at you and burst out laughing “what?” you wiped your tear stained cheeks which probably had mascara all over them.
“Oliver told me that you invited India here and that you two slept together. this isn’t funny Felix, i’m serious. i’m going home tomorrow” you sniffled and he shook his head “Oliver told you that? and you believed him?” you shrugged “well, the two of you looked very friendly when you came walking around the corner so yeah i believed it”
“that is the silliest thing i’ve ever heard. i would never ever do that to you.” he placed his hand on your cheeks and placed a delicate kiss on your lips. “i’m too in love with you to cheat on you” he kissed you again.
“why did Oliver say that? he said that you invited India and that he went into the maze to find you to apologise because you two argued and then he said that you two were having sex” Felix frowned “what? having sex in the maze? no that’s not what happened at all” he shook his head.
“Oliver invited India and he got mad because she rejected him, we argued because i told him to not invite her and he did it anyway. i knew her being there would upset you. i was only being nice to her because her friends left her” he explained, his hands falling from your cheeks.
“i’m sorry i was so mean to you” he shook his head “im sorry that i laughed at you, i honestly thought it was just because you were jealous i didn’t realise Oliver told you that. ill speak to my parents, see if they can get rid of him early” he smiled.
“you know i love you, don’t you?” his eyes started into yours, he hated that you were hurting. you nodded “i love you too” he kissed you passionately.
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vivwritescrappythings · 2 months
Text
Saying Thanks
Joel Miller x afab!fem!reader
Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.
tw: smut, fem reader, afab reader, unspecified age gap, reader is smaller than Joel (shorter, can be picked up by him), oral (m! receiving), p in v sex, crying, fighting, blood, drinking, Joel may be out of character but I don’t care, not proofread.
Word count: 8.1k
minors, fuck off
masterlist
Joel was seething. You’d never seen him like this, rage burning in his gaze and his hands balled into fists at his sides as he was pushed toward the door. Of course you’d seen him in fights before, dealing with raiders and infected on patrol was a bloody business at best, but the second the new guy, Jake? Jack, at the Tipsy Bison put a hand on you—just touching your arm—Joel exploded.
You didn’t even have time to blink before the man grabbing your arm was on the ground, ugly bruises blossoming on his face. You didn’t even launch into action to get Joel off of him, shock leaving you frozen. You only remained plastered against the bar, gaping at Joel’s savage expression and the way his fists bludgeoned Jack's face. The drink in your hand spilled over the sides a bit, a sticky combination of fruit juice and alcohol coating your skin and absorbing in the sleeve of your sweater.
You were already tipsy, your face hot and your eyes a bit glassy. You were more loose with your expressions, the careful filter you kept starting to deteriorate. By the time a bar fight broke out, you were already more than a few drinks in, your heart pounding in your chest along with the soft music and a thin layer of sweat starting to prickle at the back of your neck.
Joel had stayed quiet that night, sticking to the secluded booth in the back of the bar that he usually haunted. There was no acknowledgement of each other, his chocolate-colored eyes had landed on you for a moment when you walked in, shadowed over by his dark brow in its permanent scowl. As always, he didn’t speak to you despite the fact that you spent most mornings together patrolling the outskirts of Jackson.
He wasn’t your biggest fan, even going so far as to complain to his brother when the two of you had been assigned together. Tommy was giving you a shot on the patrol, you were newer to Jackson and needed a job. You could handle a gun and didn’t seem completely clueless, so he figured he would stick you with Joel to see if you made it out on the other side.
But, nevertheless, Joel was now being pulled off Jack by a few other patrons. They hauled him up by the collar of his canvas jacket, his knuckles bloodied and a snarl on his face as Jack scrambled away. You still stood wide-eyed and dopey, your voice caught in your throat as you struggled for something to say.
Joel wouldn’t look at you, eyes drilling into Jack as he was shoved toward the door. He kept hissing threats through his teeth, snippets of ‘I’ll break your fucking arm if you ever touch her again,’ audible above the music as he grappled with the men trying to contain him.
Your gaze traced the outline of his aquiline nose, the way his lips were pursed beneath his dark mustache. It was a struggle to push him out the door. You flinched when it slammed shut behind him, spilling more of your drink.
“You better get your damn dog on a leash.” It was one of the older women in the neighborhood, her brows drawn and a disgusted expression on her face as she regarded you. You finally snapped out of your shocked stupor, looking at Jack’s bloodied and swollen face as he was picked up and put into a booth.
What was Joel even thinking?
You downed your drink in a few gulps, setting the empty glass on the bar before pushing yourself away from the bar top. Wind swept inside the Tipsy Bison as you forced the door open, providing a moment of relief from the humid heat of the bar. It was starting to get cold out, dried leaves swirling in the breeze as autumn settled into the bones of Jackson.
You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself as you peered out into the darkness. The leaves crunched under your shoes as you took a few tentative steps, the sweater you wore offering you little protection from the wind.
Joel leaned against the wall of a nearby business, his head tilted back and his throat bared to the dim light of the moon. He was sucking in deep breaths through his mouth, his bloody knuckles limp at his sides. His jacket was off-kilter from where he’d been thrown out the door, his hair mussed.
“Joel?” You approached him like you would a wild animal, on high alert and prepared for any sudden movement.
He looked at you with a bored expression, the moonlight catching on the silver hair that splintered at his temples and in his patchy beard. You hesitated, stopping your approach for a moment before pressing on until you were a few feet in front of him. His dark curls stuck up in every direction, they were a little long now that winter was approaching.
“What the hell was that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as your weight settled so one hip popped out to the side. You sounded more aggressive than you intended to, the words coming out like an accusation rather than a question.
It was times like this that made the age and size difference between you and Joel apparent. He stood up straight, towering over you a bit as he cleared his throat. Sometimes he made you feel like you were still just a dumb teenager instead of a woman in her mid twenties. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice a deep grumble with a slight southern twang to it.
A scoff leaves your mouth before you can even stop it, the alcohol reducing your filter to near non-existence. “What do you mean, Joel? I watched you beat the shit out of that guy for what? Touching my arm?” You were a little too loud, your voice ricocheting off the buildings around you. Under different circumstances, you would have cringed and apologized immediately, but something forced you to soldier on.
Thankfully no one else was outside that night—it was too cold and still too early for the Tipsy Bison to have a last call. It felt like a standoff. His dark eyes were trained on your face, his mouth drawn into a scowl. You usually backed down to him, acquiescing to his stubborn nature.
“And so what if it was?” Joel grumbled, his attitude matching your own. The way he crossed his arms made his biceps bulge under the fabric of his jacket—your breath hitched for a moment before you glanced away.
You shook your head, disbelief coloring your expression as his words settled in. “You don’t even like me!” You can’t help but gesture wildly, your hands moving like they had minds of their own.
He ignored you regularly. There was an unspoken rule of only acknowledging one another on patrols together. The woods outside of Jackson were the only place that Joel would actually talk to you, otherwise you acted like perfect strangers in town.
His jaw clenched as he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps closer to you. “Who said I didn’t like you?” he asked, his voice lower as his head dipped toward yours.
He couldn’t be serious.
Your eyebrows shot up, disbelief making you smile incredulously. “What, so ignoring me in public and complaining about me to Tommy is how you treat your friends?” You were moments away from leaving and letting Joel find a new patrol partner.
You spent too much time defending Joel from his reputation as the town pariah, arguing that he wasn’t the animal everyone thought he was. He had a hard time blending in, bigger than most everyone except for his brother and unapproachable to a fault. It seemed that Tommy and Ellie were the only people he willingly spoke to, otherwise keeping largely to himself.
Sometimes you wondered if he heard the rumors going around about him—speculation that he used to be a hunter, a smuggler, a heartless killer. You never had it in you to ask him about it.
Not that he would tell you, anyways.
Joel’s scowl deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His silence did nothing but rile you up, it felt like an admission to the fact that you were right. You huffed, the autumnal breeze making dried leaves stick to your jeans and your breath clouding in the air.
“Well, Joel, you should really figure out how to act like an adult,” you snapped, shaking your head as you started to turn away from him. “You’re way too old to be beating up boys at a bar for touching someone you don’t even give a damn about.”
The Tipsy Bison called to you, warm light spilling out the windows and the people moving inside. Your friends were still in there, giggling with one another at the bar. You could see others nursing Jack in a booth, pressing ice wrapped in towels against his face as his blood turned them pink.
“I didn’t like how he was grabbing ya,” Joel finally said after you’d taken a few steps away. The admission made you stop in your tracks, looking back over your shoulder at the man. He looked sheepish as he admitted it, his gaze on the floor like a toddler getting scolded. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before redirecting his eyes to the sky. “You didn’t… you didn’t hear how he was talking about you… didn’t want you with a guy like that.”
Your eyebrows shot up, your lips parting slightly. Your head tilted up to look at him properly, eyes narrowed slightly as you evaluated him. He seemed shockingly sincere, the awkward expression on his face sealing the deal. “Careful Joel, I’m almost starting to think you care about me.”
There was something in the way his eyes shifted to meet yours that almost made your heart stop.
“Never said I didn’t care,” he mumbled, one of his baseball mitt hands coming to rub the back of his neck. The blood on his knuckles was drying, turning to a rust color under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but purse your lips, tilting your head to one side. It was hard to understand, the alcohol making you feel like you were buzzing as you mulled over Joel’s words.
He cleared his throat again, shuffling a little closer to you in the process. “When I talked to Tommy, I wasn’t complainin’ about you,” Joel said. His cheeks were flushed, making you wonder if he was cold or just from the alcohol. He was notorious for sucking down bourbon like it was water, especially on nights when he had nothing to do the next day.
“You weren’t?” you asked, probing the older man a bit. You had only walked by when Joel was talking to his brother, catching your name in their hushed whispers and Joel’s strained expression. You’d assumed it was because he was stuck with you, a newer recruit, a woman.
Joel sighed, shaking his head. It felt like you were pulling every word from his throat. “Tommy… he uh… he put us together because he thought it would be good for me,” he said, hesitating between parts of his sentence. “Thought you’d be good for me.”
“Good for you?” The alcohol made your voice soft around the edges, the question tumbling out of you before you had the sense to stop it. Joel stepped closer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. He was close enough that you could see the scar on his ear, the scars littering his bloodied hands and the ones across his nose. Sure, you’d seen them on patrol as you walked shoulder to shoulder, but for some reason you find yourself trying to memorize every detail about him in the moonlight.
“Yeah, sweetheart, good for me,” Joel mumbled, looking down at his boots for a moment before making eye contact with you again. Sweetheart. The nickname rattled around in your mind, echoing in time with your heartbeat. You would’ve punched anyone else for calling you sweetheart, but it sounded good coming from Joel.
Your face heated up, an odd smile quirking up the corners of your mouth as you struggled to find words to say. “You’re a liar, Joel,” you manage to spit out.
He let out a chuckle, the kind that hardly made any noise and just let out a sharp breath of air. You earned one every now and then, it always made you beam when you could get him to chuckle on patrol. “Yeah? I could’ve switched a long time ago,” Joel murmured, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Tommy offered to let me switch.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, a sliver of your combative nature rising up your throat. You wanted to argue with the older man, inform him that he was wrong.
Joel must have picked up at the way your jaw twitched, your expression twisting. “It’s nice to listen to ya blabber in the mornings,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been. It was almost easy to forget what happened in the Tipsy Bison, the way you watched him beat Jack’s face into a pulp.
You huffed, shaking your head. There was a small smile on your face as the heat continued to rise on your cheeks. “Then why do you act like I’m a stranger when I see you around?” you asked Joel. You scraped your teeth over your lower lip, scuffing the toe of your shoe in the dirt.
Joel’s face fell a bit, his eyes softening as he became serious once more. “You don’t want to be around me anyways, people would judge ya.” It was like he didn’t want to admit it, his voice low and mumbling.
You hummed your disagreement, deciding to be bold and step even closer to the huge man in front of you. He towered a head over most people in Jackson, strong and wide and sturdy. You looked over his tanned, weathered skin, his dark curls that were starting to show age through scattered silver strands. “You don’t seem too bad to me,” you said, nearly a whisper.
You saw how Ellie looked at him like he was her favorite person in the world. If that girl could trust him, then so could you.
Joel’s warmth radiated onto you in the cool evening, the smell of bourbon on his breath and blood on his hands. He shook his head, maintaining the closeness you’d established. “Sweetheart, you know most of the shit they say about me around this town is true.”
You’d figured as much. You’d watched Joel kill raiders without a blink of an eye and jump into action whenever infected approached the high, protective walls around Jackson. The first time you’d witnessed it, his precision took your breath away. Now it was something that you had come to depend on.
“I assumed as much,” you said with a shrug, folding your arms over your chest and tucking your hands under your armpits to keep them warm. “Never mattered to me,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.
You considered going back to the bar to avoid the chill, but you didn’t feel like having to answer questions about you and Joel all night. Everyone would want to know what he said to you out here, would have their own ideas about why he did it. There were a few breaths of silence. “But, I should probably go home.”
“Not gonna go back inside?” Joel asked, nodding his chin toward the Tipsy Bison. His gaze was still focused on you. You thought about it for a moment before shaking your head, glancing back at the bar. It had lost its appeal.
“Just home, Joel. Have a good night… thanks for protecting my honor and stuff,” you said with a small smile. There was a lightness in the way you spoke, your eyes sparkling in the darkness.
You started to walk toward your house, living in the opposite direction from Joel. “Make sure you clean up those hands of yours, don’t want to have to get another patrol partner any time soon,” you said without looking back, dead leaves crunching under your feet with each step.
You heard his heavy footfalls behind you until Joel fell into step at your side. “Mind helping me out? Not great at first aid,” he said, holding his knuckles out in front of him. They were blown apart.
“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, grabbing one of his wrists to inspect his hand as you walked. His wrist was warm and thick in your hand, he didn’t pull away. The wounds overlapped a number of scars beneath them, a snippet of Joel’s past violence. “Were you trying to kill him or just teach him a lesson?”
“I don’t pull my punches,” Joel said with a noncommittal shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course he didn’t. Joel definitely taught him a lesson. You dropped his wrist, not giving him a response as you followed the path to your home.
Your house was one of the smaller ones, the yellow paint starting to peel off the siding and the wall around Jackson casting a shadow over it in the moonlight. Joel was grumbling about your proximity to the wall as you opened your front door and flicked on the lights.
“Take off your boots before you track mud in, I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” you tell Joel, toeing your shoes off before you head to one of the bathrooms. You can still hear him complaining as his heavy boots hit the floor, his lumbering footsteps going to the kitchen. The layout for all of the homes in Jackson was relatively the same, the sub-development it had been converted from seemed fairly cookie-cutter.
Joel sat patiently at the counter as you brought in the first aid kit, setting it down on the stone countertop and flicking it open. He seemed calm and unconcerned, more like a seasoned veteran to first aid than a novice. “I find it hard to believe that you’re bad at this,” you murmured, opening an alcohol wipe to start cleaning his knuckles.
Joel placed his big, catcher’s mitt hands flat on the counter for you to work. His jaw tensed a few times as you wiped over the largest knuckle on each of his hands. “I’m here for your gentle touch, sweetheart,” he muttered, sarcasm biting his tone and making you laugh.
“I’m not a nurse for a reason,” you said, smearing ointment onto the wounds with your fingertips. You tried to be careful, not applying too much pressure to the irritated skin.
Joel chuckled, watching your movements as you pulled out a roll of gauze and loosely wrapped his wounds to cover them. He flexed his hands as soon as you were finished, the gauze stretching tight when he made fists. “Good as new,” you said, leaning against the countertop. You both looked down at his bandaged wounds, lingering in the closeness before you stepped away.
“Now, you should hold off on bar fights for a while.” Mirth glittered in your eyes as you grabbed a wine bottle from one of the shelves in your kitchen. You grabbed two glasses without asking, methodically going through the motions of opening the bottle and pouring.
It felt like you and Joel were sprinting head-first at a line the two of you had never crossed before. There was a shift from coworkers to something else, and it started the second Joel pounced on Jack. You found yourself studying his face as you handed him a wine glass, categorizing his features as you took a sip. He was handsome, but he always had been—you just didn’t let yourself recognize it.
“No promises,” Joel grumbled, taking a long drink. You watched him swallow, your eyes partially lidded before you remembered yourself. You felt your cheeks and ears heat up as you took another drink, unclenching your fist at your side and focusing on the stretch of the bones and ligaments.
“You really didn’t need to beat Jack up, I can handle myself,” you murmured, your lashes fluttering as you redirected your gaze to Joel.
He just snorted softly, shaking his head. His expression twisted into amusement, the papery wrinkles of his crow’s feet becoming pronounced. Your brows furrowed, your head tilting as you prepared to argue the fact that you could, in fact, defend yourself. “His name is Jake.”
Embarrassment made blood rush to your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. A sheepish smile settled on your features, a giggle working its way through your throat. “He even let me call him Jack like… five times the other day,” you said into your wine glass, a guilty look on your face.
“Poor boy’s got it bad then,” Joel said, smirking at you. His dark eyes appeared even darker in the lighting of your kitchen.
“Don’t worry, I think you scared him enough,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. You picked your glass up off the counter, walking out of the kitchen to your cozy living room.
Joel came to sit on the couch as you stoked a fire to life, burning some of the dried kindling you kept in a bucket near the fireplace to coax the logs to life. You could feel his eyes on your back as you crouched, the flames breathing warmth over you as they crackled. The combination of his gaze, the fire, and the wine you kept sucking down in mouthfuls made a sweat prickle at the back of your neck as you stood up straight.
He made himself comfortable, lounging on the couch with an arm draped on the back of it. He’d brought the bottle of wine, it sat on the coffee table next to his empty glass. One of your eyebrows arched as you sat next to him, leaving enough space between the two of you that you could twist and bring your knees and feet up onto the sofa.
“You really made yourself at home.”
Joel cracked an easy smile, the fire illuminating the deep shadows of scowl lines on his forehead. You felt the urge to smooth them out with your fingertips. “I’ve got a habit of doing that,” he said, his dark gaze sliding to the fireplace. One of the logs popped, sending sparks through the hearth.
There was a lapse of silence where you reached over and filled up his wine glass again. You felt surprisingly comfortable next to him, relaxing your side against the cushioned back of the couch as you faced Joel. “The ladies at the Tipsy Bison called you my guard dog.”
That made him outright snicker. “Yeah? I’m your guard dog, huh?” he asked, clearly teasing. The way his flannel clung to his shoulders was heavenly, wrapped around every well-defined muscle like a second skin. The wine was staining his mouth purple, you were enraptured as his tongue darted out to catch any remaining drops on his lips.
You cleared your throat, blinking as you nodded. “Said I should get you on a leash,” you mumbled, the heat on your cheeks spreading to your neck and ears. You gulped the wine to break some of the tension, your nose scrunching as you swallowed.
There was a shift, it would’ve gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention.
Joel stretched a bit, tilting his head back as he finished the rest of the wine in one gulp before setting the glass on the coffee table. When he sat back, he’d moved closer to you. Your knee was nearly touching his thigh, that inch of empty space feeling electric.
“Do you want me on a leash?” he asked, his voice deep. There was something different to his tone, the harsh edges of his voice rounded out more than usual. The question made your breath stutter in your chest. The sincerity in his expression caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to speak, only silence coming out. “If there was anyone who could convince me, it would probably be you, sweetheart.”
You choked on your wine, awkward and clumsy as you sat up straight to prevent it from coming out of your nose. Part of you felt like Joel had turned you inside out as you spluttered, confusion and self-consciousness running rampant.. Finally you got a hold of yourself, sucking in wet breaths with tears in your eyes.
“You okay?” His voice was sweet and soft when he asked, as though he hadn’t caused it. You nodded, waiving off his concern as his paw of a hand grabbed your shoulder. His touch was napalm, igniting your skin through your thin sweater.
“Just surprised me,” you choked out, wiping away the tears with the heel of your hand as you sniffled. Joel’s hand stayed where it was, his thumb rubbing along your collarbone over the black fabric. He did nothing but hum his acknowledgement, patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.
Another cough rattled through you before you could breathe again. Joel’s eyebrows were raised as he watched you, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “You are so full of shit, Joel Miller,” you finally said, pushing his shoulder lightly.
He still was touching you, leaning forward into your space as he did so. Your breaths were shallow, apprehensive and giddy in all the right ways.
“You think I’m full of shit?” he asked, smirking.
“I know you are.” You couldn’t help but flirt, batting your eyelashes and smirking at Joel. You felt electric, lightning just crackling under your skin with the potential thrill of him reciprocating. Sure, you were risking a decent work relationship, but you could get a new patrol partner.
He hummed thoughtfully, his hand creeping toward the back of your neck. The stretch of his fingers to the meat of his palm spanned nearly three-quarters of the circumference of your throat, something that should’ve chilled you to the bone. Excitement sparked in your belly as you swallowed against the firm press of his thumb on your windpipe.
“You don’t seem like an ���on the leash’ kind of guy,” you murmured, the feeling of the gauze you’d wrapped around his knuckles rubbing against your soft skin making you shiver slightly.
“No, guess I don’t,” Joel agreed, his dark brown gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth and back. It was so quick, but the thrill that followed made you feel like you were glowing. You slicked your tongue over your lower lip, making it shine in the firelight.
The way he spoke made you press your thighs together, the stiff seam of your jeans pressing against you in the perfect way if you shifted how you were sitting. Joel moved as well, his thighs spreading just a bit, a palm quickly smoothing over his lap in an action he probably didn’t think he would notice.
“Sweetheart, we should just get this out of the way.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion before Joel was pulling you toward him, his lips slotting over yours. A soft, startled noise was muffled against Joel’s mouth, shock dissipating quickly as your eyes slid shut. His mustache tickled your upper lip as you accidentally bumped your nose against his.
When he pulled back, there was a hint of a smile on his face. Your face felt like it was on fire, a goofy grin gracing your features as your gaze flickered over him.
Joel’s other hand crept onto your jean-clad thigh, a calloused thumb stroking along the frayed hole at your knee. “So, was that weird for you?” you asked like an insecure teenager, your teeth digging into your lower lip as you waited for his answer.
Your heart was pounding, the irrational side of your brain wondering if he was able to hear it. He surely felt it against his palm, his heavy hand resting near your pulse as he kept you close on the couch. He smiled at your question, shaking his head no as he pulled you back in for a second kiss. It was quicker, a messy stamp of his mouth over yours.
“Didn’t think you’d be into an old man like me,” he said with a chuckle. If you didn’t know better it almost seemed like Joel felt bashful. The apples of his cheeks were dusted pink, whether it was from the kiss or the wine you didn’t know.
Your eyebrow arched, a grin still on your face. “You’re not old,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. Your hands were pressed into your lap, part of you not knowing what to do with them. You looked up at Joel through your eyelashes before your gaze dragged down his torso and to his jeans. The flannel he wore was thin, the fabric well-worn and not tucked into his blue jeans.
“I should, um, thank you,” you murmured, shifting to put your empty wine glass on the coffee table.
Joel chuckled, still watching you like a hawk that set sights on its prey. “Last I checked, you were just lecturing me about fighting your own battles,” he teased, curiosity shining deep in his chocolate eyes as you got off your couch.
The wine must have gotten to your head, because you would’ve thought you were losing your mind. You moved to stand between Joel’s legs, slowly sinking to your knees on the squishy gray carpet that covered your living room. “I don’t have to thank you if you don’t want me to, Joel,” you murmured, your hands hovering over his thick thighs for a moment before resting on them.
He looked dumbfounded and giddy, his hands already resting on the black, leather belt he wore around his waist. “No, sweetheart, you’ve got a…uh… promising idea,” Joel said with a smile, shifting his legs so they bracketed you and his knees pressed against the coffee table.
You laughed softly, hands roaming up his muscular thighs to where his belt rested just under the soft layer of fat covering his stomach. “You sure? I can always get back up,” you said teasingly, working your fingers under the tongue of his belt and pulling the buckle open. It clinked as it fell off to the sides, you didn’t bother pulling it from the belt loops.
Joel shook his head, leaning back farther into the couch and shifting his hips toward you. “M’sure,” he answered, preoccupied on the way your fingers popped open the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.
He was already hard, the outline of his cock pressing against the denim and toward his thigh. You reached into his black boxers, pulling it out of its confinement with a satisfied sigh.
He was big, bigger than any other guy you’d been with. You held the base of his cock, fingers against the curly, dark hair that covered his pubic bone and ran up toward his belly button. It was hot to the touch, the head already leaking precum that followed the path of the prominent veins down his shaft. It was more pink than the rest of him, the head a shade darker than the rest.
You licked your lips, almost embarrassed to find yourself drooling as you braced your forearm on his thigh and kitten-licked at the underside of Joel’s cock. He grunted at the contact, his hands digging into the plush cushion of the couch as his hips twitched toward your face.
“Eager,” you mumbled, a smile on your face as you looked up at Joel through your eyelashes. He was already looking down at you, his lips parted in anticipation and his breaths heavier than they were. You licked the tip of his cock again, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue. There’s something about the way that Joel lets a breath out through his teeth that makes you feel like you were set on fire.
You let out a breathy chuckle, wrapping your lips around the head of him and hollowing out your cheeks on your descent toward his lap. It was a lot to take, your eyes watering as you swallowed more of Joel’s cock. His moans and sighs were enough to keep you going, your lips curled over your teeth and your head bobbing up and down.
One of his hands found the curve of your jaw, calloused fingers tracing it before hooking around the back of your head. You were fine with his direction, letting Joel gently press your head down to dictate your speed.
The taste of him was salty and heady, a musk that was distinctly Joel filling your nose as you drooled and sucked his cock. It was slick with your spit, the mix of your saliva and his precum coating your lips and chin. You still had your hand wrapped around the base of him and moving in tandem with your mouth, ensuring you could get everything that your throat couldn’t fit.
“Goddamn, sweetheart, you suck cock like you were made for it,” Joel said, his words punctuated with soft sighs and moans. It made you want to live permanently with his praise, your gaze flicking up to meet Joel’s for a moment.
He was completely blissed out, his head tilted back toward the ceiling as he bit his full lower lip between his teeth. His Adam’s apple kept moving erratically in his throat, like he couldn’t decide whether to breathe or not. His hand still cupped the black of your head, half-thought praises falling frantically from his lips. Joel was barely speaking in sentences, some words falling to the wayside of his soft grunts.
Feeling emboldened, you moved your hand away and tried to relax your jaw as your head descended far enough that your nose was pressed firmly against Joel’s pubic hair. It smelled surprisingly clean, just the undertone of musk clinging to the dark, curly thatch of hair as you resisted the urge to choke around his cock.
It was thick and heavy in your throat as you swallowed around him, eliciting groans and his hand pressing tightly against the back of your head. Tears burned in your eyes as Joel’s thick cock twitched in your throat, your hands spread flat on your thighs as he moaned your praises.
Joel barely thrusted his hips toward your awaiting mouth, your eyes slipped shut so you could focus on relaxing your throat. Lungs burning, you finally pulled off to suck in deep breaths. Your hand resumed what your mouth had been doing moments before, taking Joel in your fist and using your saliva as lubrication.
“Look at how pretty you are,” Joel murmured, his southern accent thicker than normal as the hand on the back of your head shifted to cup your cheek. Your eyes were watery with a few tears tracking down your face, your lips swollen and saliva coating the entirety of your chin.
You smiled, stroking his cock as you struggled to regain your breath. “Didn’t know you were such a good girl,” Joel drawled, dragging his thumb through the saliva on your chin and smearing the pad of it across your parted lips.
“When I want to be.” Your voice was thick and raspy, your eyes partially lidded. Your knees were digging into the carpet, his legs keeping you where you sat.
He smirked at that. Joel gently moved your hand away from his cock, his arms winding beneath your armpits and lifted you back up to the couch. You squealed in the back of your throat, surprised by his strength as he settled you against the arm of the couch and twisted to face you.
Large hands yanked your sweater over your head to reveal the black bra you wore, a soft groan coming from Joel. He didn’t waste time, finding the back closure and popping it open. You helped him, guiding the thin straps down your arms and tossing the garment aside.
“Christ,” Joel mumbled, his thick fingers brushing over one of your nipples. A jolt of electricity traveled down your spine at the touch, warmth blooming on your cheeks.
You were impatient, panties already soaked through and feeling uncomfortable as you popped open the button on your jeans. “Joel, I need you,” you murmured, leaning forward to kiss him as you shimmied your pants and underwear over your hips.
“So impatient,” he muttered between presses of your lips, pulling away so he could look at you properly. The firelight illuminated the curves and shadows that littered your body, stretch marks and scars visible on your skin. Self-consciousness reared its ugly head for a moment, your gaze fluttering away from Joel’s intensity as he just stared at you.
He grabbed your thighs, pulling you toward him until your back hit the couch. “Joel…” you whined as he pressed your thighs apart, his dark eyes focused on your sex.
He spread the slicked lips apart with his thumb, making you cover your face with your hands out of embarrassment. “Look at you…” he mumbled, hardly even talking to you. He let go of your other thigh, his fingertips teasing your clenching hole to gather some of the wetness dripping down you and smearing it across your clit.
You gasped, your back arching at the contact against the nerves. Joel’s fingers were calloused and thick and warm, drawing tight, slow circles over your clit as his other hand pressed into the crease between your inner thigh and your pubic bone. It kept your hips from squirming away from him.
“You’re so sensitive, sweetheart,” Joel said, the smile audible in his voice. You’d kept your hands over your face, your moans muffled by your palms as you resisted the urge to snap your thighs closed. You felt vulnerable and exposed under him.
“You’re teasing,” you mumbled, your hips twitching in an attempt to get more friction from his calloused fingers. He kept his touch agonizingly light, making you whine and whimper in your desperation for more from him. He chuckled, fingers dipping to tease your entrance again before trailing back up to your clit.
“Let me see ya,” Joel said, his hand leaving the nestle of your thigh to wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face. He held both in one hand, keeping your wrists captive against your sternum.
Your breaths were heavy, his fingers strumming over the swollen bump of your clit pulling moans from your throat. Joel’s eyes were partially lidded as he looked down at you, a smirk growing on his face at your desperate expression. “Joel, please,” you begged, your cunt clenching around empty space as you wished he would just fucking fill you up already.
He chuckled, clicking his tongue against his teeth with mock disapproval. “If you’re so desperate, get up and turn around, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you up by your wrists. “My knees aren’t what they used to be, help an old man out.”
You’d normally take that opportunity to make a joke at his expense, but you just let him move you around like a doll. He guided you so you were kneeling on the couch, your chest pressed against the back of it. You arched your back as much as you could, sticking your ass out and hoping you looked pretty as you looked at Joel over your shoulder. He didn’t even bother getting undressed, just standing up behind you and taking his cock in his hand.
His other hand still rubbed over your cunt, smearing your arousal over your swollen lips and onto your inner thighs. Much to your relief, he pressed two thick fingers inside you. The sensation made you groan, resting your weight on your elbows and your knees as you pushed back against his fingers. They slid in so easy you were almost embarrassed.
“You’ll take me just fine, sweetheart,” Joel murmured, approval echoing in his voice. He crooked his fingers to press and massage the spongy spot inside of you, making your mouth fall open and your legs jerk.
You twisted enough to glare at him, Joel covered in shadow from the fire crackling behind him. “Quit being an asshole, Joel,” you said through your teeth, making him chuckle.
“Where are your manners, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a sigh before grabbing your hip with a hand. His wet fingers smeared against your heated skin as he pulled you back a little more, making your back arch like a bow pulled too tight.
He slid the blunt head of his cock between your folds until it tapped against your clit, making him when you whimpered. Joel finally granted you what you wanted, lining up with your entrance and pressing his way in. His cock caught, sliding in so slow that it made you squirm.
“Relax, sweetheart.” Joel’s big hand slid up and down your curved spine, calloused fingers feeling each and every notch of your vertebrae. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched out and so eager as he bullied his way inside of you. The breath you took in was frantic and overwhelmed, it felt as though he was pushing all of the air out of your body. The two fingers he had pressed inside of you as a test didn’t prepare you at all for his thick cock.
You could hardly breathe, you’d never taken a cock this big inside of you without any preparation–but you were too impatient to wait for him to stretch you out on his fingers. You were pathetic, whining and wheezing as your hands clenched against the cushions on the back of your couch.
You’d never felt anything better in your life.
After what felt like ages, Joel was fully seated inside of you. His coarse jeans were pressed against your soft thighs, the two of you breathing heavily like you’d run a marathon.
“You’ve gotta relax. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my dick off,” Joel said, slowly grinding his pelvis against the swell of your ass. You nodded, trying to take in deep breaths and get used to the feeling of being stretched full.
“Sorry,” you muttered as you focused on becoming pliant, your taught muscles slowly releasing. His beard rasped against the back of your neck as he kissed you there, a moment of intimacy to calm you down. It felt like a reward, your breaths slowing as you unclenched around Joel and welcomed him deeper.
The sound you made when Joel pulled out and pressed back in was pathetic. It felt like he was sawing you in half, carving a space for his cock inside of you with each thrust. There was some caution to his movements, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he grit his teeth.
“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed against your neck. Each thrust coaxed a gasp from you, your nails digging into the fabric of the couch as you took whatever Joel is willing to give. Your vision was blurry from the overwhelmed tears brimming your eyes.
The sound of your bodies smacking together filled your living room, the open belt still threaded through Joel’s pants clinking on the off beat. He maintained his pace like a machine, drilling into the gummy spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in your head.
Your nipples were sensitive, rubbing against the coarse fabric of the couch cushions with every thrust. The noises you made were absolutely undignified, the sounds of someone being fucked completely stupid. He was filling you up so perfectly and the knowledge that it was Joel, your hardass patrol partner who never gave affection to anyone, it made you feel like you’d touched a live wire.
“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” Joel said, a wide hand reaching around you to fondle your breast. He used it to bring you back, curving your spine so the back of your head was pressed against his collarbone and you looked up at where the wall and ceiling met.
You felt helpless and primal, your mind scattered a million different places. “So good,” you gasped stupidly, hardly able to form words. Your hands grabbed his forearm and fisted in his flannel behind you, an effort to anchor yourself to him.
“I know,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. You were vaguely aware of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth hanging open as you struggled to stay afloat. You were already lost, a sea of sensation pulling you under with only the places where you and Joel were pressed together serving as your lifeline.
Joel’s free hand reached around your belly, finding your neglected clit with practiced ease. You moaned his name like a broken record, your eyebrows furrowing. He rubbed it hard and fast, matching the pace he was rutting into you with. You already felt heat pooling in your lower abdomen.
“Oh god,” you gasped, already shaking from head to toe and your grip tightening around his forearm. “Joel I’m—yes, yes, yes—“
It felt like your whole world shattered as you came with a shout, your muscles convulsing. You clamped around Joel’s cock like a vise, your hips twitching wildly. Pleasure flooded through you from head to toe, warm and fuzzy and all-consuming. The sensation was simultaneously too much and not enough, Joel steadily fucking you through it as your vision went white.
Joel had to pull himself away from you, letting you slump forward on the couch cushion as you came down from your orgasm. You were clenching around nothing, whining at how cruel he was to leave you empty.
The wet, sticky sounds coming from him made you turn your head as you went boneless on the couch. Joel’s cheeks were red as he tugged at his cock, a hand squeezing the flesh of your ass. His dark eyes were focused on you, all loose limbed and spent.
He finally noticed you looking, his mouth open and panting. He took in your fucked out expression, your eyelashes clumped with tears and cheeks red. He’d made a mess of you, the dazed look on your face his undoing as he let out a grunt. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip as he came, spurting thick come over your ass as his fingers dug into you.
You sighed as you felt his hot come land on your ass and back, pooling in the curve of your spine. You were still floaty and out of it, vaguely aware of him milking the last spurts of his spend from his thick cock.
“Jesus,” he grumbled, swaying for a moment before sitting down on the couch next to you. He gathered you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest as you went perfectly limp.
You nuzzled against his neck, humming your affection as his hand rubbed up and down your back. The motion smeared his come along your skin, his fingers rubbing it in like body lotion. It was like he’d stuck your brain in a blender, the mush of the aftermath hardly able to form more than feelings as you pressed your forehead against his beard.
“I’ll beat up the whole town if this is the thanks I get,” Joel said, pressing a kiss to your temple. His barrel chest shook beneath you with a chuckle, his hands never straying from your body.
“No one’s gonna want to touch me with a ten-foot pole,” you muttered after a moment of silence, it took you a beat to even process what Joel was saying. He snickered, seeming pleased with himself as you melted deeper into his embrace.
“Good, I should be the only one touching you,” he said, making warmth bloom in your chest. “Unless I’m assuming things.”
You smiled, a sleepy look still on your face as you wound your arms around his neck and snuggled in closer. “So this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing?” you asked, sounding shy as you said it.
Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “You know how many times I had to go home after patrol and take a cold shower just because you bumped my arm or bent over to pick something up? Felt like a damn teenager.”
You giggled, picking your head up to look at Joel properly. He looked so soft and sweet around the edges, that normal fire and flintiness was gone from his dark eyes. “You gonna stay tonight?”
He pulled you in for a kiss, it was sweet and over all too soon. “If you’ll let me,” Joel said, sounding earnest.
You nodded, tucking your head back against his neck. You were starting to succumb to your drowsy state, your eyes sliding shut as you puddled into Joel. You were vaguely aware of him lifting you off the couch, his good-natured grumbling about carrying you up the stairs filling your ears.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months
Text
Finally getting help (prt 4)
Masterpost
The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.
He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.
Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.
It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.
It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.
A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table.  “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”
“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.
“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.
“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.
Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.
“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.
“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.
“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”
“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”
Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”
“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.
“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.
“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.
“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.
Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.
“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.
“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.
“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.
It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.
“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.
Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.
“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.
“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.
The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.
“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.
“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv. 
“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!
Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs. 
Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.
It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.
“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him. 
“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”
“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference. 
“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”
“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”
She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent. 
Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!
They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms. 
They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap. 
part 5
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lucvly · 3 months
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headcannons of chris kissing you 😿
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KISSING HIM HEADCANNONS! ( chris sturniolo. )
warnings › kissing, making out, suggestive and a little smut if you squint!
author’s note › i’m DROOLING and SALIVATING over this man y’all please. this is so short?
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⊹ let me start off by saying chris loves kissing you. doesn’t even care where fr, acts like he hasn’t been kissed ever i swear.
⊹ kissing him always turns out sloppy idgaf. chaotic, a lot of tongue, his hands on your waist, pulling you closer !!!
⊹ hand placement. he knows what he’s doing– he always rests his hands on your waist or on your ass LMFAOOA.
⊹ softer kisses with him are adorable. as much as he hates to admit it, he loves it when you’re cuddling with him and you start playing with his hair, occasionally kissing the top of his head. he’s melting. he deadass does not care about anything else as long as you’re playing with his hair and giving him kisses.
⊹ absolutely loves cheek kisses. especially if there’s a height difference and you have to lean upwards to reach him, or even better if he has to be the one leaning up.
⊹ he doesn’t really resonate with the whole “only being affectionate in private” type of thing so he genuinely doesn’t mind just swooping you into a soft kiss at any moment, even if you’re in front of your friends or his brothers. so there’s absolutely no issues regarding public displays of affection.
⊹ as much as he loves reassuring you verbally, he feels like kisses are a much better way of showing you his affection. sweet and gentle kisses are only one of many ways he tries to convey his affection.
⊹ definitely uses your sweet spot against you, not in a bad way, but more so as a weakness. say you’re in public with your friends, having a conversation about something unimportant– suddenly his lips are on that particular spot on your neck he knows all too well.
⊹ y’all can argue with me all you want but chris would definitely have a playlist for makeout sessions, he’d absolutely disguise it as something else, naming it something discreet like “🤓” and it ends up being the hottest and heaviest playlist he only plays whenever you’re in his room.
⊹ he kisses your hands, i don’t care. princess treatment is all he’s giving you, at first he started doing it jokingly, taking your hand gently and leaning down to kiss it– but after a while, it slowly started becoming more casual. it’s so cutesy bye.
⊹ when you’re completely in private, his kisses get slower and a bit more sensual, almost always guiding you to sit on his lap, despite your tongues fighting for dominance.
⊹ don’t even slightly tug on his hair unless you want him to go absolutely feral. he’s a sucker for hair pulling. mhm. moans and whines are always filling the room if you even accidentally pull on his hair.
⊹ he’s so serious about small gestures that involve kissing; good morning kisses, goodbye kisses, kissing when he gets home, goodnight kisses, etc.
( once you accidentally left the house without kissing him goodbye and he thought you were mad at him— he ended up calling you and you had to drive back just to give him a quick kiss. )
⊹ he’s ticklish idc ☺️☺️. you’ll be in the middle of a makeout session and suddenly he’s giggling because you kissed a specific spot on his shoulder nd you’re like ????.
⊹ he’d be the type of boyfriend who kisses you even if you’re sick. you warn him about how he’s gonna get sick too if he keeps trying to kiss you. (“i don’t care,”) so you hesitantly give in. the next day, nick’s calling you asking why chris is uncontrollably sneezing.
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theemporium · 4 months
Text
technically the first proper introduction into the charles and blitz world despite how much we talk about them!!
series masterlist
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“If you die, can I get your Pista?”
Charles lifted his head, shooting you an unimpressed look. 
“What? I just thought we should cover all bases,” you defended, knocking your shoulder against his. 
You knew exactly what was going through his head. You knew he was overthinking the whole thing, making up the worst assumptions and how it could affect the time he would have to take off training. You knew he was working himself up like he tended to do, falling silent and allowing his only company to be himself.
It was the exact reason you insisted on coming with him.
“And out of everything I own, you want my car?” Charles questioned, his eyebrows raised. 
“Yeah well, you treat that thing like your baby—minus the parking skills,” you said with an innocent smile spread across your face. “Surely that makes me a step-mother or some sort of parental figure.”
“The way your brain works amazes me every day,” he murmured with a shake of his head.
“You love me,” you sang, nudging his shoulder once again and, this time, he lifted his arm to wrap it around your shoulder. 
“Unfortunately, I do. Even when you’ve started planning for my death before I go into surgery,” he mused, but you could hear the underlying hint of fear. The one he didn’t really want to admit, but the one that you saw as clear as day anyways.
“Everything is gonna be fine,” you reassured him and lightly squeezed his knee. “Who else am I gonna look down on the top step of the podium if not you?” 
He rolled his eyes. “It is truly a miracle I love you.”
“I’m the best thing in your life and you know it, Leclerc,” you countered, poking his side. 
Charles’ face softened. “Yeah, you are.” 
“Charles Leclerc!” 
He turned to look at the nurse who was waiting for him by the doors, a kind and welcoming smile on her face. You watched the way his face dropped a little, the way his body tensed against yours and you squeezed his knee again. 
“You’re coming back to me, Charlie. It’ll be fine.”
“Tu es si jolie, mon amour.”
*You are so pretty, my love.
“English, Charlie. My French is lacklustre at best.”
“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!” 
*You are the love of my life!
You sighed deeply, taking a glance at the boy in the passenger seat of the car. He had a lovesick smile on his face, his cheeks flushed pink and a little bit of drool on the edge of his mouth. He looked adorable—and fucking hilarious if the pictures you sent to his brothers were anything.
However, since the second he had woken up from the procedure, Charles seemed adamant on only rambling your ear off in French. No Italian or English to be heard. Just French. Just the one damn language that you were hopeless in, despite the many years you knew the Monegasque.
“J’ai hâte de t’épouser,” he sighed dreamily as he stared at you with an expression that made your chest tighten.
*I can’t wait to marry you
“I don’t know what you said but me too, buddy,” you said as you reached over to softly pat his thigh. 
However, the boy was one step ahead of you and quickly grabbed your hand to intertwine with his own.
“Regarder!” He giggled, holding your joined hands up proudly. “Nous sommes connectés pour toujours maintenant!” 
*Look! We are connected forever now!
“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you commented, fighting the odd urge to bite back a smile even when you had no understanding of what he said. “I might need to call your mother if you keep up this whole French act.”
“Oui, appelle-la! C’est aussi ta famille, mon amour!” Charles nodded.
*Yes, call her! She is your family too, my love!
“You know, these embarrassing videos don’t work if even I don’t understand them,” you added, shooting him a look but he just smiled back at you, and you couldn’t really be mad at that.
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