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dilf-docs · 8 hours ago

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It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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hxlxnaaa · 2 days ago

Note

can i pretty please have the extended version of what happens in zaynes exclusive tutorial……. asking for a friend……..

ⁱ ᵃᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ….

𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥

★ synopsis: an extended version of zaynes exclusive tutorial 5-star ;)

★ character: zayne

★ cw: first person pov, quickie SMUT!!!!, a lot of the dialogue is just taken from the card

★ word count: 3.5k

★ a/n: i literally have not wrote smut since i was at least 13...i lowkey blacked out writing this so if it sucks i'm so sorry. it was good practice though so ty for the request!

Internally, I was dreading this. As a Deepspace Hunter, low-key yet high end, relaxed events were not something I was accustomed to. While it was a nice change from the chaotic atmosphere of my own work, I couldn’t help but worry I may embarrass myself.

When Zayne first invited me, I was a bit surprised he’d ask me of all people. I was sure the man was convinced I’d, at some point during the night, make a fool of him and myself. Though I was pleased he thought of me, and honored to be chosen, it put the stakes of the night higher.

I tried to make myself as fancy as possible, without overdoing it, because I was convinced these people would know I was trying too hard. I mean, they were all top med school alumnus who probably made more in a day than I made in a year.

Walking in with Zayne, the club lighting was low with soft jazz playing in the background. I scanned the perimeter, and observed the people around. Nearly everyone had brought a companion, and I smirked to myself. Mentioning I could tell why he brought me along, I gestured for him to lean down to my level.

“Did you feel left out because everyone else brought someone? Is that why?”

Zayne looked back at me, “Yes. It’s why I invited you.”

“Lame… I thought you’d make up an excuse and deny it.

Bantering with him for a second, one of his classmates approached us. The two make small talk with each other, when the man finally introduces himself as Steven to me, reaching out for a handshake. Before I can even respond, Zayne quickly grabs my hand instead.

“Let’s find a place to sit down and talk.”

Sitting at the bar with Zayne and his classmates, I get to finally turn off my brain and just listen. All of them go on and boast about him, Steven particularly going on about his pool skills. Zayne sits comfortably with the attention, and it’s safe to assume he’s well accustomed to being the center of it all; though it didn’t last when I quickly caught his eye, as he gave me a helpless look.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” He whispered to me, an edge to his voice that was practically begging me to get him out and away from these people.

Zayne grabs his drink, assuming I was going to agree, and I stop him. He gives me a confused look as I turn my body to fully face him. Deciding to have some fun, the drinks I’ve had giving me some liquid courage-

“I haven’t seen Dr. Zayne play pool either… Is he really that good?” I smiled at him.

He pauses, lips forming into a tight line, “Ah, so you’re ganging up on me.”

I was pushing the right buttons.

While another classmate comes up to Zayne, doting all over him like the others, as he goes on about “hands on learning” with him.

I smirk inwardly, taking a sip out of my wine glass. Oh yeah, I thought to myself, I’m gonna use that one.

After the man leaves, Zayne playfully pinches my ear, “I could see you eavesdropping from a mile away, did you find anything interesting?”

I looked up at him through my eyelashes, “I heard…” Pretending to think for a second, I looked around the room, then back at him, “you’re incredibly considerate to your juniors and are highly respected by everyone, Dr. Zayne”

He sighs, looking away, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. “I guess you can be nice…” I tapped his shoulder.

Zayne raises an eyebrow, “You guess? Do I not treat you well?”

Shrugging, I shake my head and raise my hands, feigning innocence, “It’s hard to say…” I take another sip out of my glass. “You never did any ‘hands-on’ learning with me.” Sticking out my lower lip in a pout, “And everyone says it’s an honor to be taught by you, sir…”

Putting down my wine glass, I sigh, “I wonder when I’ll get to experience it…”

“It seems you truly do want to learn about surgeries.” Zayne retorts.

“Who says it has to be for work?”

He looks at me, almost startled.

“Follow me.”

On the club's second floor, the billiard hall is tucked away, secret, and empty.

Perfect.

Walking forward, I circle around one of the pool tables.

“Why are we playing pool all of a sudden?” Zayne asks from behind me.

I flip my hair and look at him over my shoulder, “Because I wanna learn from you of course. Dr. Steven was praising your pool skills, but you’ve never mentioned them before.” I pushed my back to the table, leaning back on my hands.

Zayne walks up to me, “He was drunk and just rambling.”

“Oh? He said you were really good…” Cocking my head to the side to look at him, he stared back at me with intent, “Like a professional.”

“Maybe because a surgeon has steady hands.”

“Then-” I stood up straight again, crossing my arms and smiling sweetly, “it’d be nice if I could get some tips from you.”

“While I can’t give any tips per se, we can play.” He looks at me and smiles back, “If you want.”

Picking out two cue sticks, handing me the shorter one, he walks to one of the tables in the corner, “Have you played before?”

“Once or twice. People say I have potential,” Zayne raises a brow at my confidence, “but I ‘can play’.”

“Are you gonna be strict with me, sir?” I playfully swing around the cue stick. Zayne crosses his arms, leaning into me, “Strict teachers make outstanding students.” He states, “Let’s start.”

Gesturing for me to go, I lean over the table, feeling his eyes boring into me. I hold my breath as I hit the ball, the only sound in the room the echoes of the balls scattering.

Zayne chuckles under his breath, and I look back at him, “Did I do something wrong, sir?”

“You have more than enough strength. If you adjust your posture, you’ll see better results.”

“I need you to help me identify my weak spots via ‘hands-on learning’, sir.”

I watch as his facade begins to crumble a bit, before he quickly regains himself, “We’ll have to work on your posture then.”

Coming up next to me, I stand up straight as he leans down over the table, “Like this. Place your right foot back…” He strikes, graceful as ever. When I try, I look like a klutz.

Bent over the table, he comes up behind me. “Relax,” He whispers, “you’re too tense.” He places his hand on my back, and almost as a reflex to his touch, my waist immediately bends. “Now you’re too relaxed.” He clicks his tongue as I become jelly under his touch.

“Relax your left arm. Allow it to bend naturally.” His arm snakes up under mine, “Your head, right arm, and the cue stick should form a straight line.”

He places his hand softly on my cheek, shifting my head to the left, “How is it?”

“It,” I winced at the uncomfortable position, “hurts a little.”

I hear him smile, “That means it’s correct.”

Making a face, I try to give him my most pitiful look.

“You’re so harsh, sir.”

He grabs my chin, making me face the table again. The gesture makes me gasp.

“Don’t tilt your head.” Zayne remarks, “You messed up your posture again.”

“Is there an easier way? Like something I can do without much trouble?”

“Yes, but are you sure you want to do it?”

I groan, my body feeling stiff from holding this pose for so long, “Bring it on.”

I feel him shift from beside me, “Don’t move for now.”

Zayne comes up behind me, positioning himself where his chest is flush against my back. Reaching his arms around me, one of his hands comes up to grab mine. Lowering his head, I feel his breath on my neck as his lips settle next to my ear, “Your rhythm with the cue stick…isn’t quite there yet.” My eyelids flutter closed at his voice, “You need more hands-on training.”

He directs me carefully, “You should neither be too fast nor too hesitant.” His words sound distant as all I can focus on is the feeling of his body pressed against mine, as heat spreads in between my thighs.

My hand is enveloped in his, and the back and forth motion of the cue stick slows down, “Move the cue stick three or four times..” He instructs, everything about this feeling overwhelmingly provocative, “Stop at the point closest to the ball…”

“Did you get that?” He whispered, turning his head away from the pool table to face mine.

“Yeah…” Was all I could muster back.

Softly smirking, he turned back to follow my vision, “Keep your eyes on the ball, one…two…three…” I think I may actually combust if he keeps this up.

“Stop, and pull back the cue stick.”

He loosens his grip on me, “Snap out of it. Are you even listening to me?”

No, not really Zayne. I can really only focus on not grinding back into you right now.

“Ah yes,” I cough, “Pull back the stick…”

“Very good, just like that…” I bite back a whimper and the urge to rub my legs together at his praise, he knows good and well what he’s doing.

“Now…strike.”

I hit the ball, and when it goes in I snap out of whatever hypnotic haze I was in.

“It’s in!”

Zayne pulls back, and I stand up straight, placing my hands on my hips. “Did you see that? It was a great shot! I’m so cool…” Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I flash him a smile.

“I did.” He smiles warmly back, “You’re not a total beginner.”

“Maybe it’s because I practice shooting all the time. Or, it’s possible I’m a prodigy…” I started regaining my confidence after it had ever so slowly faltered on the pool table.

“Perhaps.” Zayne shrugs, “To be honest, all you need to be good at pool is…”

He leans over the edge of the table, looking over at me. My breath hitches at the sight.

“A steady hand, precision, and a calm attitude.” His eyes bore into mine, “Once you’ve locked into your target, don’t let go.”

I swallowed. Even though he was clearly talking about the ball, it felt oddly personal.

He has me play a bit more, teaching me as I go. I easily earn his praises and they ring like music in my ears.

“If a student does a good job,” I remind him, “shouldn’t they get a reward?”

He considers it for a second, “What do you want?”

Confidence bubbling up again inside of me, I sigh dramatically. “Well, it might be difficult to hit this next ball. Help me.”

“Is that all?” Zayne asks, clearly not convinced. Pausing before coming to help me, I give him a smug look, “What’s wrong Dr. Zayne? Are you scared?”

I was pushing my luck, and loving every second of it.

He frowned, “Provocation doesn’t work on me.”

“Then come here.” I nodded toward the pool table, giving him a sweet smile.

Zayne inches towards me, only moving slightly closer.

“Closer.” I demand, “Or else I can’t reach it.”

He gives me a confused look, “What exactly…”

I grab him by the collar, pushing him back onto the table. Zaynes cheeks turn pink as he stares up at me with a shocked expression. Lips slightly agape, I can see a million thoughts running behind his eyes. The dumbfounded look on his face makes me want to take him on the table right now.

“Look,” I pout, “the ball’s so far away. I think it’s time to use a cue rest.”

I tap the cue stick on each side of his head. Zayne narrows his eyes at me, “Using cue rests would be overkill.” He sits up, and I use the stick to slowly tug out his tie, “And this,” he glares, “is inappropriate.”

Though he feigns annoyance, the look in his eyes is a dead giveaway.

“But…” I pull the stick away leaning towards him, my breath dusting his ear, “I think you’re enjoying it…” He looks down and away at the table, clearly embarrassed, “I shouldn't have taught you so much” he mutters.

Running my fingers through his dark hair, I slowly tease my hand down his body, caressing his face, down to his chest, down to where I see where he’s aching for me to touch the most. I coo at him when I see the desperate look in his eyes, and quickly snap my hand away before I reach the bulge growing in his nice slacks.

Zaynes face is red hot as he sits up on the table enough that he’s eye level with me, “Who taught you to use your teacher as a cue rest…” he frowns.

“Well,” I place my hand on his chest over his heart, “this cue rests heartbeat is going to ruin my accuracy.” I tut.

“Is it my heartbeat affecting your accuracy, or yours?” His hand comes up to caress my cheek, “If you actually want to learn, I can show you another way…”

Zayne leans in, lips almost to mine before I grab his shoulder and push him back. He looks at me, wide eyed at the denial.

“Sir, this seems to be lacking professionalism.” Crossing my arms across my chest, his lips curve at my attempt to scold him.

“Weren’t you just using me as a cue rest?” He leans back in, “Talking about professionalism… is a bit too late.”

As he grabs me by my waist, I push him back onto the table again as a reply. The gesture only lasts a few seconds before Zayne smiles at me, quickly sitting up and using his hand around my waist to reverse us; flipping me onto my back and onto the table, he settled in between my legs. I squeak at the sudden change, as he now hovers over me, my head caged between his arms.

“Why don’t you let me show you…” Zayne pulls back, standing up straight. He grabs his cue stick, “Watch closely, I’m only going to do it once.”

Pushing his chest against mine, he goes for the ball right behind my head. His head hovers right above my face, and I lean up to place a kiss on his adams apple right as he strikes the ball. I have half a mind to bite into his neck, but he quickly stands back up as he watches the ball go in.

He looks down at me, and I’m sure I look utterly disheveled. From where he stood in between my thighs, my dress had ridden up high enough that every inch of my bottom half was almost on display for him to see. My hair was splayed out around me on the table, and my chest heaved with the breath I was so desperately trying to catch.

The sexual tension that had slowly built up throughout the night was now thick enough to cut with a knife. Smiling softly, Zayne tilts my chin up, caressing my jaw as his thumb slowly parted my lips, dipping it past my teeth and pressing it against my tongue. “Pretty little mouth…” he mutters, staring at the way his finger sits in between my lips. I look up at him through half-lidded eyes, sucking down on his thumb.

He frowns, “Always such a tease.” Zayne sighs, picking up my ankle, pressing a kiss to it. I craved his lips on mine, but I always enjoyed the shows he’d put on for me. He continued to kiss up my calf, closing his eyes as he felt my skin against his lips.

“Zayne.” I demanded, and he looked at me annoyed, as if I was interrupting something.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me…”

He leaned down, nose brushing against mine, but not meeting my lips. I pushed myself up, trying to connect us, but he pulled away at the last second. Frustrated and tired of his games, I grabbed Zayne by his tie, crashing my lips against his, pulling him down on top of me onto the table.

“Behave.” He groaned as I took his bottom lip in my teeth, tugging softly. Grabbing my wrists with his hand, he pinned them above my head. Zayne’s free hand roamed up my thigh, fingers dusting over the place I was praying for him to touch the most.

I squirmed under him as he toyed with the lace on my panties, never dipping his fingers past. His grip on my wrists tightened, lips leaving mine so our eyes could meet. Waves of lust crashed in his green eyes.

“What do you want?” His lips kissed down my neck and chest.

“You to touch me.” I whimpered.

He tsked, “Beg.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Or do I need to teach you how to do that too?” Zayne nipped at my collarbone, then kissed the skin.

“Please…”

“What was that?”

“Please, Zayne.” Everytime I said please, his fingers inched closer to the arousal pooling in between my thighs, “Zayne, please, please, fuck, please.”

I felt him smile against my skin, and he dipped a finger inside of me.

Clenching around him, I moaned at the satisfaction.

Zayne groaned, “God, you’re so wet. You’ve been eager all night…” Pumping in and out, I stifled my whimpers and moans against his shoulder. He let go of my wrists, and my hands flew to his collar, gripping for dear life as he added another finger.

Tracing his thumb on my clit, two fingers curling up inside of me, Zayne always knew just how to make me come undone. He could get off on this alone, watching me fall apart underneath him by just his hands. I was seeing stars, thinking nothing could get better than this.

Zayne pulled away, and I cried out at the emptiness. He stood there for a second, just taking all of me in, “You’re so beautiful.” He took off his tie, gently grabbing me by the back of my head and lifting it up so he could tie the fabric around my mouth as a makeshift gag.

“As much as I love to listen to you, I don’t want anybody else to hear. Is that all right?”

I nodded at him and he smiled, petting my cheek, “Good girl.”

Reaching forward, I palmed his hard on through his nice, business slacks. The idea of them being around his ankles as he takes me on this table was enough to almost make me cry from joy. Sighing at the friction, Zaynes eyes fluttered closed, and I worked my hand up and undid his belt. Getting too eager, he freed himself, and slid my panties down to where they loosely dangled off one of my heels.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” He pressed his tip against my opening, “but this will have to do.” Sinking all the way down to the hilt, I choked out a muffled scream, squeezing my eyes shut as the tie killed my lewd noises.

Zayne grabbed my chin, fingers digging into my skin, “Eyes open.” He demanded, pulling out, and slamming back in, “Keep looking.”

Already overwhelmed from the stimulation he provided earlier, tears welled up in my eyes from just how good all of it felt. The impossibly delicious way he could fill me up, lips dancing across my skin as he chased after his own pleasure. His hand gripping into my hips, most likely leaving bruises, as he drilled into me; kissing my palm before biting into the skin to muffle his own groans.

Zayne’s skin glistened with sweat, the top buttons of his shirt undone, his lips red and swollen from my aggressions. He railed into me like a maniac, like he was fucking starving. Gracefully, his hand found its way back in between my thighs, finding the bundle of pleasure that made me cry out. At the feeling I blinked out tears, my eyes burning from the mascara I was practically sobbing away. I was moments away from ruining this table beneath me, and Zayne knew that.

He grabbed my neck, almost as if for stability as he picked up his pace. Desperately rolling his hips against mine, I clenched down around him “Just.. like that, oh... God." He moaned. I lifted my hips up to meet his thrusts, trying to chase my own release and his. Zayne looked me in the eyes, squeezing the hand around my neck, “My girl. Mine.” He groaned.

With one last thrust and his praise, I was screaming behind the tie, shaking from my release beneath him. Digging my nails into his biceps, his hips stuttered, and with a moan he pulled out, finishing all over my nice dress.

Zayne nearly collapsed on top of me as we laid there for a while, just soaking in the aftermath. As he pulled away, I watched him cringe at the mess he had left on me. For some reason, I started laughing.

“What’s that for?” He questioned.

I continued to giggle, “I didn’t know you were that good at pool…”

“If we had more time, I’d show you more of my techniques…”

Slapping him on the shoulder, I sat up, and he swept me off the table and back onto my feet. Brushing my hair with his fingers, he attempted to wipe away the mascara stains on my cheeks. “I know the back way out of here,” He pressed a kiss to my temple.

(divider by cafekitsune)

#zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x y/n #love and deepspace zayne #zayne #l&ds zayne #lnds zayne #lads zayne #lads #lnds #lnds smut #lnds fluff #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut #zayne fluff #zayne x mc #love and deep space

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rqyup · 2 days ago

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# is this part of the plan ? (oneshot)

pairing.. rafayel x dating coach!reader

cw.. angst, non mc!reader, repost

love and deepspace masterlist

thinking about.. rafayel after mc rejects him with the cutting yet honest words,

“you’re too emotionally unstable right now. you need to figure yourself out.”

rafayel is crushed. he spends days sulking in self-pity until a friend points him toward you, a well-known dating coach.

when you first meet him, he’s awkward, defensive, and a little too overdramatic. “i’m not here because i’m bad at love,” he insists. “i’m here because she doesn’t see what’s right in front of her!”

thanks to your years of experience, you saw right through him. he’s stubborn and emotionally guarded, but deep down, he’s just a broken guy who wants to be loved. you agree to help him—not because you think he’s hopeless, but because you see potential in him.

the first sessions are a mix of awkwardness and resistance. rafayel treats it like a battle, constantly questioning your advice.

“you want me to… share my feelings? i think not.”

“writing letters? that’s ridiculous. who does that?”

thinking about.. slowly but surely, though, he begins to trust you. he starts sharing little pieces of himself—stories of his 800 years of waiting, his fears of rejection, and his struggles with being vulnerable. meanwhile, you’re genuinely rooting for him. you find yourself impressed by his progress, even charmed by the small, unguarded moments he shows during your sessions.

one day, you’re both walking back from a session, and rafayel surprises you by holding the door open for you. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels oddly thoughtful.

another time, he shows up to a session with your favorite drink, casually saying, “you mentioned you liked it last time.”

he starts practicing small compliments. “that color suits you” he says offhandedly, and you nearly drop your notebook.

at first, you think he’s just practicing for mc, but there’s something… different about how he treats you. the way his gaze lingers just a little too long. the way his tone softens when he says your name.

during one session, you’re giving him advice about emotional vulnerability, explaining how important it is to express how you feel to the people who matter. he stares at you, his usual sharp retort dying on his lips. for the first time, he really listens—not because he’s thinking about mc, but because the only person he wants to open up to is you.

thinking about.. how the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “oh no,” he thinks. “this isn’t about her anymore.”

rafayel spends the rest of the session distracted, his mind racing. he starts avoiding eye contact, stammering over his words. by the time he leaves, he’s completely panicked.

rafayel begins skipping sessions, making up flimsy excuses like, “i’m busy,” or “i don’t think i need your help anymore.”

you assume it’s because he’s succeeded with mc. while you’re happy for him, a small part of you feels… empty. you hadn’t realized how much you’d started looking forward to his presence, his awkward smiles, and his dramatic complaints.

alone in your office, you find yourself staring at the empty chair where he used to sit, thinking, “why does this hurt so much? he was just a client… wasn’t he?”

thinking about.. the day you see rafayel with mc at a café. you weren’t stalking him—you tell yourself this over and over—but your steps falter the moment you spot them. she’s smiling at something he said, her laugh soft and genuine, and he’s leaning back in his chair, relaxed in a way you’ve rarely seen.

it hurts more than you expect. wasn’t this what he wanted? wasn’t this the whole point? your chest tightens as you force yourself to look away, swallowing the lump in your throat. you remind yourself that you were just his coach, that his happiness is all that matters. still, you can’t stop the wave of jealousy that washes over you.

you walk away before they notice you, but all the while, rafayel’s thoughts are miles away from mc.

he’s smiling, nodding along to whatever she’s saying, but his mind is filled with you. he remembers how your voice softens when you’re explaining something important, the way your eyes light up when you laugh. he thinks about how you believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself, and the way your presence alone made him feel like he wasn’t so broken after all.

mc’s voice pulls him back to the present, but it only makes him feel more out of place. he realizes, with a pang of guilt, that he doesn’t care about impressing her anymore. the only person he wants to see, to be with, is you.

thinking about.. how despite everything, forces himself to love mc because she is his bride, his soulmate.

he’s standing in front of her, the weight of history pressing down on him. the truth that had once been buried beneath all his emotions rises to the surface—mc is his bride, his destined love, the one he was bound to all those years ago. and though his heart aches with the thought of how much he's changed, how much he’s grown through his time with you, rafayel forces himself to turn away from the feeling he’s found with you.

he doesn’t want to, but duty and fate are stronger than desire. he watches mc with a mask of calm, the same mask he wore when he first met you—detached, guarded, emotionally distant.

“ive changed, im ready now,” he tells her, but the words feel hollow, even to him. he’s not ready. but he’s been waiting for so long that he can't abandon what was promised.

you, on the other hand, are left with the silence of what could have been. the empty chair where he once sat no longer feels like an absence but a choice. you can’t deny the sorrow you feel, but you understand. rafayel made his choice, and it wasn’t you.

you let him go, quietly, silently. because even if he didn’t choose you, you know you’ll always carry a piece of him, the part that was real, the part that was always meant to be free.

at the end, you could only dream of what could've been, you imagine both of you sharing a life where he will joke about.. “you were a terrible coach. you made me fall for you instead of the person i was supposed to love.”

and how you will laugh and reply, “and you were the most stubborn client i’ve ever had. but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But I suppose some dreams aren't bound to become real.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lnds rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel angst #lads angst #angst

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trashremover43 · 3 hours ago

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Buck had originally planned to focus on the documentary. The screen was alive with vivid footage of the Serengeti, a narrator’s soothing voice explaining the intricacies of lion pride dynamics. It was fascinating—at least, it should’ve been.

But Tommy, sitting nearby in his reading chair with his glasses perched on his nose, was proving far more interesting.

The way the glasses framed his face, the slight furrow of his brow as he read, and the absent way he tapped his fingers against the armrest—it all drew Buck's attention like a magnet. He tried to fight it, forcing his eyes back to the TV. But after the third time his gaze wandered, Buck gave in with a sigh, muttering to himself as he got up and wandered over to Tommy.

Tommy glanced up as Buck approached, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Something wrong with the documentary?”

“No,” Buck said, plopping himself down onto Tommy’s lap without warning, straddling his thighs. “Something’s wrong with you.”

Tommy blinked, his hands automatically settling on Buck’s hips to steady him. “What did I do now?”

“You look too good in these stupid glasses,” Buck grumbled, tugging them off Tommy’s face and holding them up. “How am I supposed to concentrate when you look like a sexy professor over here?”

Tommy chuckled, his fingers tracing soothing circles against Buck’s waist. “You could just ignore me.”

“Impossible,” Buck declared, tossing the glasses gently onto the coffee table. “You’ve got this whole ‘mysterious, brooding intellectual’ thing going on, and it’s distracting.”

Tommy leaned back slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you sitting on my lap is supposed to help?”

“Exactly,” Buck said smugly, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s neck. “Now I’ve got your attention. And by the way, I learned something cool. Did you know male lions only hunt about 15% of the time? The lionesses do all the work.”

Tommy tilted his head, humoring him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Buck said eagerly, leaning closer. “And they sleep for like, 20 hours a day. Can you imagine that? Sleeping for twenty hours—living the dream.”

Tommy nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “And what else did you learn?”

Buck beamed. “Their roars can be heard up to five miles away. Isn’t that wild?”

Tommy hummed thoughtfully. “I think I heard that part already, seeing as I was sitting right there with you.”

“Sure,” Buck said, shrugging. “But you weren’t paying attention to me. So now I’m repeating it.”

Tommy chuckled, his eyes warm as he gazed up at Buck. “Well, I’m paying attention now.”

“Good,” Buck said, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “Because I like telling you things. Even if you already know them.”

Tommy’s hands slid up to Buck’s back, pulling him closer. “And I like hearing them. Even if I already heard them.”

Buck smiled, soft and pleased, before closing the gap and pressing a quick kiss to Tommy’s lips. “You’re the best.”

Tommy’s smirk softened into something more genuine. “And you’re ridiculous. But I’ll take it.”

With that, Buck settled more comfortably into Tommy’s lap, his head tucked against Tommy’s shoulder as he began excitedly recounting even more lion facts. Tommy listened to every single one, like he hadn’t already heard them twice.

tommy’s lap? no. that’s buck’s seat. buck is plopping himself onto tommy’s lap and crisscrossing his arms around his neck whenever the opportunity presents—doesn’t matter if they’re in private or in public, doesn’t matter if there’s a chair available or not. and you know, sometimes, the opportunity doesn’t even have to present itself. buck will figure out a way to manoeuvre himself onto his boyfriend’s lap anyway. just because he feels like it. just because he can.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #bucktommy fic

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themultifanshipper · 2 days ago

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Can you write a fluffy carcar fic where imagine carlos trying to get oscar into golf? I saw oscar say somewhere that golf is frustrating- but carlos tells him "it's not frustrating, it's about patience" or something like that

He went to the golf course bc lando actually invited him after the wcc and all, and since lando was really insistent and he had time to kill, and he was like sure one afternoon won't hurt. So he goes, there by genuine accident they bump into carlos, and lando didn't think carlos was even back home so he was just as surprised to see him and then carlos ofc joins them but then lando has to leave (how convenient) so oscars suddenly all awkward

BUT THEN CARLOS IS LIKE ITS OK ILL TEACH YOU, ILL MAKE YOU LIKE GOLF

And suddenly oscars all flustered and both of them in their heads are all like "this is nice, omg this is really nice, why is this so nice!?"

Or something along those lines??

Oscar’s mind was going at a million miles an hour.

How he got into this predicament, with Carlos' strong arms wrapped around him while he shivered from the contact, was a mystery.

Warnings: smut, ass eating, inappropriate use of golfing equipment, public sex, kinda wild, i'll be honest there is not much fluff, asking me for fluff is like asking Fernando to retire, it ain't happening.

Lando. This was all Lando's fault.

He'd suggested going out for golf, which he knew Oscar wasn't particularly fond of.

And he was the one that had lost track of time and forgotten that he had a meeting to go to.

He'd also been the one to suggest Carlos join them, after running into the Spaniard by accident.

“It’s december!” he’d said. “We'll be the only ones on the golf course! It'll be fun!” he said. Well that was a fucking lie.

It may not have been high golfing season or whatever, but they ran into two people Lando knew from around Monaco, and Carlos.

The entire situation felt like the setup for a joke, and Oscar felt like he was the absolute butt of it.

Celebrating the WCC? Great idea. Golfing with Lando? Fine, why not. Golfing with Carlos? Not something he wanted to be doing in a million years.

He didn't not like Carlos, but every interaction they'd ever had could be summarised with two words: forced proximity.

Either they came together on track, or they were forced to interact by their mutual friends, namely Lando.

So he wasn't exactly fond of the man, but he tolerated him enough to be civil. And the less time he spent talking to him, the more time he had to check him out from afar.

Bexause he was hot as fuck, Oscar couldn't deny that. He'd caught himself checking his fellow drivers out on multiple occasions, but there were no cameras around now, so he could let his gaze wander a bit more freely.

As soon as Carlos agreed to go along with them, he knew this was going to be a long afternoon.

Golf just wasn't his thing. He’d tried. He'd really tried, he would do anything to please Lando.

But he thought it was a sport for pompous rich pricks who had absolutely nothing better to do with their time and money. He'd never had lessons, and Lando wasn't exactly a great teacher, so his form was shit, and to make matters worse, Lando and Carlos made fun of him for it.

Well excuse him for not growing up fucking rich!

“This is a shit sport!” he raged after missing yet another swing. “I just don’t get why you like it, it's so frustrating!”

Lando was too busy wheezing to reply.

“It is not frustrating, it is about patience. Observe” Carlos put a ball on his tee, and positioned himself as if he was going to swing.

“You need to shift your weight as you swing, and don't aim for the ball, aim a few inches after the ball. And don't forget the position of your arms, the left one is straight while the right one is at a right angle, otherwise your aim will be all over the place…”

Carlos showed him the movement as he explained it, but Oscar had stopped listening entirely.

His eyes had zoned in on Carlos' arms. He knew the guy was fit, they were athletes after all, but he was absolutely astounded by how fucking enormous Carlos’ biceps were.

They were glistening with sweat under the sunlight as he flexed them. Then his eyes went to Carlos' pecs, which were also flexing, and looked like they were about to pop out of his polo shirt.

He was brought out of his reverie by Lando cursing loudly next to him.

“Shit! Guys I have to run, I completely forgot I have a meeting with my publicist in fifteen minutes!”

He left his stuff with them and sprinted away, promising to be back soon (they both knew he wouldn't, and one of them would inevitably have to drop his stuff off at his apartment).

Oscar was relieved, he could finally be out of this hell hole.

But as he picked up his bag of rented clubs to make his way back to the golf cart, Carlos put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Oh no, Cabrón. We are not done here. I am going to make you a professional if it is the last thing I do.”

Carlos teaching him golf sounded like the last thing he wanted to do, and the older man was smirking infuriatingly, as if torturing Oscar into liking golf was the most fun he could have.

But a part of Oscar was curious. Maybe he could have some fun of his own. He knew Carlos wasn't a particularly patient man. Maybe he could rile Carlos up enough for him to give up.

Making an F1 driver give up on anything was a hard feat, but Oscar liked a challenge.

It was a bit awkward at first, Carlos made him get into position, which he did very wrong on purpose, to try and frustrate Carlos.

But the man didn't even sigh, he just started explaining all about how the handle had to be pointing at his belly button, and his knees needed to be bent, and he needed to twist his shoulders while lifting the club while still looking at the ball, and then he had to-

Oscar had stopped listening again.

While explaining each action, Carlos' hands were moving Oscar's body around like a puppet.

His skin burned wherever Carlos' hands made contact.

And after a while it started getting to him. Carlos' touches were getting rougher, like he was getting sick of explaining and repositioning him over and over again.

But instead of chanting victory, Oscar's brain was slowly frying at the harsh grip Carlos had on his flesh.

They were both sweating in the sun, and Carlos was damp.

He was plastered to Oscar's back, his arms around Oscar's arms, hands gripping the handle over Oscar's hands as he tried his best to explain… whatever it is he was trying to explain.

Oscar’s brain was on one thing only: the hard planes of Carlos' body pressed against his.

The Spaniards breath smelled like the minty gum he'd been chewing earlier, and his mouth was so close to Oscar's cheek he could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke.

He was sweating, and not just from the sun, his body was on fire, and he could feel his blood rushing down from his brain to his nether regions.

Carlos hadn't noticed at first, fully absorbed in his long winded explanation of the subtleties of hip movements to emphasize striking power.

But when he grabbed Oscar's stiff hips to twist and move them the correct way, the younger man gasped out the tiniest of whimpers.

That made Carlos freeze. “Are you okay?”

His hands hadn't moved from Oscar's waist though, and that fact was making his head spin.

Carlos’ eyes followed the movement of Oscar's Adam’s apple as he swallowed before nodding shyly.

The flush creeping up the younger man's neck was enough for Carlos to understand what was happening.

He gave his hips another squeeze. “Oscar…”

The Aussie let out a shaky breath, the way Carlos whispered his name made him close his eyes in embarrassment.

“Yes?” his voice cracked and he closed his eyes, waiting for Carlos to yell at him for being inappropriate, or uninterested in golf, or gay… or something.

But the yelling never came, instead Carlos chuckled darkly and squeezed the flesh of his hips.

“Is my lesson making you too horny to think properly? Pathetic… And ironic given how you seem to be the one trying to distract me with these shorts” he spat, pulling at the hem of the offending shorts, which would be considered indecent to anyone who wasn't Oscar.

But Oscar had a habit of not realising how he looked, and today Carlos was having trouble not ogling his body.

Carlos’ hand barely brushed his bulge, and Oscar whimpered again, looking down to see just how tented his shorts were.

He had no idea he felt this way about Carlos, but here he was, hard as a rock and secretly wishing that Carlos would touch him more.

“Maybe I need to teach you some discipline before you can learn to play properly…”

Carlos nosed at the back of his sweaty neck, pulling his hips back against his own.

Oscar gasped when he felt the hard press of Carlos' cock through his shorts.

“Do not worry, I can teach you everything you need to know” he growled into Oscar's skin, hand sliding around to cup Oscar over his shorts.

That's how Oscar ended up pressed against the front of the golf cart, leaning on his elbows, and doing his best to stay quiet as Carlos ripped his shorts down his legs.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you were hoping this would happen, given how slutty these shorts are.”

Oscar wanted to protest. They were practical! It was 25 degrees out and excuse him for not wanting to wear fucking chinos to golf.

“They're not sl-” he tried to argue but Carlos landed a harsh spank to the back of his thigh.

He yelped but Carlos scolded him.

“First lesson, no arguing with the teacher.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Oscar's boxers and peeled them off, groaning at the plumpness of the flesh in front of him.

“My god, it's a miracle your ass fits in those shorts at all…” Oscar blushed at the compliment, he knew what his body looked like, he knew he was gifted in that department, but Carlos praising him was turning his brain to mush.

He let out a surprised half-moan half-whine when Carlos spread his cheeks and spat, right on his twitching hole.

The act was so dirty, they were out in the open but Oscar no longer cared, he needed more.

He could feel the cool material of Carlos' leather glove against his overheated skin.

Carlos rubbed the pad of his thumb over Oscar's slick rim, making him keen.

“Lesson two: you have to be quiet or we are going to get caught. Do you want this to be our last lesson?”

Oscar was trembling with need, and his legs were seconds away from giving out if Carlos didn't get on with it soon.

“No! Please…” he whined pathetically and Carlos laughed.

He crouched behind down, spreading Oscar open.

“Then keep your mouth shut”

He licked a stripe from his balls up to his crack, and it took everything Oscar had in him not to moan.

“Good boy” Carlos praised, and dove in, licking and prodding at his tight rim.

Oscar could feel the strong wet muscle opening him up, it was obscene.

He bit his hand to avoid making a noise , he didn't really care about being kicked off the course, but he would rather avoid getting caught, with Carlos of all people. He'd never hear the end of it.

The repetitive feeling of Carlos' tongue breaching him had him gasping into his hand.

He pushed his hips back, his back arching as he fucked himself on Carlos' tongue, and the older man moaned at how quickly Oscar's body was betraying his need to be fucked.

He pulled away to suck a couple of fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly before pressing them into Oscar's slick hole.

Oscar was on fire. Carlos was using his gloved fingers to open him up, and the slick leather sliding into him made him want to rip his own hair out.

Carlos stood up and put a hand on Oscar's lower back to make him arch more, which he did gladly.

Carlos was surprised at how needy Oscar was under him, writhing and gasping every time his fingers brushed his prostate.

Suddenly he had an idea on how to keep Oscar's mouth occupied.

He reached into his pocket, where he had one of those extra large golf balls used for training, and tapped it against Oscar's lower lip.

“Open up, Oscar. You can suck on this to stop yourself making too much noise” and Oscar opened his mouth immediately and stuck out his tongue, taking the ball in his mouth almost too eagerly.

He was submitting beautifully, and Carlos had to unbutton his pants and pull them down, just to take some pressure off his now aching cock.

Once he deemed Oscar ready, he spit on his hand, slicking himself up and pushed in slowly.

Oscar couldn’t hold it in anymore, despite the ball gag, he moaned loud.

“Shit” Carlos hissed, slapping a hand over Oscar's mouth. “You need to be quiet”

Oscar was unable to respond, he was too busy drooling over how well Carlos' cock was stretching him out.

So Carlos took the ball out, accidentally shifting his hips which made Oscar’s eyes roll back and he let out a high pitched squeak.

Carlos then took his glove off, baled it up and shoved it into Oscar's mouth.

He then thrust into him hard enough to make him moan loudly again, and was satisfied when the glove successfully muffled the noise.

Or at least enough so that they couldn't be heard within a few hundred feet.

He kicked Oscars feet apart to spread him further, and slammed into him again.

Oscar was sure he could feel Carlos all the way up to his fucking throat with how deep he was inside him.

The sound of Carlos' hips slapping against Oscar's plump flesh made the two men wild as their bodies made contact over and over again, pushing and pulling against each other.

Oscar was doing his best to push back against the onslaught of Carlos' savage thrusts, but his body was slowly giving up on him.

His knees buckled, and Carlos wrapped his arms around him, pushing him harder against the now searing metal of the front of the cart.

He reached a hand down to wrap around Oscar's leaking cock, squeezing rythmically with each thrust and Oscar was a goner, he came with a muffled wail, painting Carlos' hand white, along with the front of the cart.

Carlos followed quickly after, hips stuttering as he filled the younger driver up, biting his lip to muffle his deep groan.

After a few seconds of trying to regain his sanity, he pulled his glove out of Oscars mouth and pulled his softening cock out of him.

Oscar sighed, leaning his head against the surface with his eyes closed in bliss.

He didn't register Carlos moving around until he felt him lick up the cum that was seeping out of his used hole.

He jolted, gasping as Carlos cleaned him up, lapping up his own cum and overstimulating Oscar to the point where he started wriggling and the Spaniard had to hold him in place.

The lewd slurping sounds were almost humiliating, and he was suddenly acutely aware of how exposed he was.

But that just served to turn him on again, and if Carlos had carried on for much longer, he would have definitely been up for another round.

Thankfully though, he soon deemed Oscar cleaned up of his cum, and helped him pull his underwear and those goddamn shorts back up.

He turned Oscar around and grabbed the back of his neck to press their lips together in a kiss that very quickly turned filthy and they made out for a few minutes, until they were in desperate need of air.

As they panted into each other's mouths, Carlos grinned.

“Rule number three: one lesson is never enough”

Needless to say, Oscar got a membership at that club. And he met up with Carlos every week for lessons, which they did not invite Lando to.

Lando found that a bit strange, but he wasn't going to complain, he was just happy his two friends were finally getting along.

#my thots #oscar thots #carlos thots #carlos sainz #oscar piastri #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x carlos sainz #carcar #ask #request #f1 #formula 1

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starkeyslibrary · 3 days ago

Text

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 9.5

pairing: you x drew starkey

happy christmas eve to those celebrating!

The Next Weekend:

The weekend arrived faster than you expected. Drew had been tight-lipped about the details, but his excitement was evident in every text and call leading up to the trip. You had packed the night before – just a small bag, something simple for a couple of days away from the city. You weren’t sure what to expect, but something about Drew his excitement, the way he’d planned everything, gave her a sense of peace.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you from your thoughts. It was a text from Drew.

Drew: I’m outside, whenever you’re ready.

Your heart gave a little jolt. You quickly typed back:

You: I’ll be right down.

You quickly dressed in a cozy sweater, jeans, and a pair of uggs, before grabbing your bag and heading downstairs. When you stepped outside, you saw Drew’s car parked.

He kissed your forehead the moment he saw you, the simple gesture making you feel both giddy and calm at the same time. "Hey," he said, his voice warm, his eyes lighting up the moment they locked onto yours. "Ready for the weekend?"

"I’m ready," you said, your smile mirroring his.

He opened the car door for you, and as you climbed in, he followed suit and slid into the driver’s seat. The drive was peaceful, the city slowly slipping away as you headed into the mountains, the scenery becoming more and more picturesque as we went.

When we reached their destination, it was a charming cabin nestled on the edge of a wooded area. The air was crisp and fresh, the kind of cold that bit at your cheeks but felt invigorating. Drew parked the car and got out, walking around to open your door.

You stepped out, taking in the beauty of the place. The cabin was cozy, with a large stone fireplace and windows that overlooked a vast stretch of trees and distant mountains. It felt like the world was miles away from the life they had back in the city.

"This place is amazing," you said, full of wonder.

Drew smiled, his hand brushing against yours as he led you inside. "I’m glad you like it. I thought it might be the perfect place for us to… reconnect."

You spent the afternoon exploring the area around the cabin, walking along trails that led you deeper into the woods, surrounded by the beauty of the snow-capped peaks. Drew was more present than he had ever been. He listened to your stories, laughed at your jokes, and simply enjoyed your company. There was no rushing, no pressure—just the two of you, rediscovering each other.

At one point, we found a quiet spot by a small stream. The water flowed gently, its rhythmic sound adding a peaceful soundtrack to our conversation. Drew reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. The touch was so tender, it made your heart skip a beat.

You turned your head slightly, locking eyes with him. There was a warmth in Drew’s gaze that made you feel safe.

Without a word, Drew leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your skin, his lips brushing yours before deepening into a soft, lingering kiss. When we pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling in the cool air.

"I’m sorry for everything that happened before," Drew whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve learned so much. I’ll show you, Y/N. I’ll show you every day how much you mean to me."

Your heart swelled at his words, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "I believe you," you whispered back, before giving him another quick kiss, this time playful, a soft peck that lingered on his lips for just a second longer than necessary.

You lingered by the stream, the quiet rush of water filling the silence between us. The chill of the evening began to seep into your jackets, urging you to return. As you stepped back into the cabin, the warmth wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the crackling fire and scent of pine creating a sharp contrast to the crisp, cold air outside.

The crackling fire filled the cozy cabin with a comforting warmth as you leaned back against the couch, a soft blanket draped over your lap. The smell of pine and the distant rustle of the forest outside made the world feel miles away. Drew, seated next to you, stretched his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing your shoulder.

“You know,” he said with a mischievous grin, breaking the comfortable silence, “I had this whole grand romantic gesture planned, but… I think I’m going to go with Plan B.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Plan B? Should I be concerned?”

He chuckled and stood, holding out a hand to you. “Not at all. Trust me.”

Curiosity sparked, you took his hand, letting him lead you to the center of the room. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and after a few swipes, music began to play. It was a soft, playful melody—something you recognized instantly: a song from a cheesy rom-com you’d once watched together.

Your jaw dropped. “No way. This is Plan B?”

Drew smirked, bowing dramatically. “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he straightened up, extending his hand toward you. “Drew, you’re ridiculous,” you said, but you slipped your hand into his anyway.

He pulled you close, wrapping one arm around your waist as he began to sway—horribly off-beat, intentionally so. “Ridiculous? I prefer charmingly spontaneous,” he teased, twirling you with an exaggerated flourish that nearly made you trip.

“Charming? Debatable,” you shot back, grinning as you steadied yourself. “Spontaneous? Definitely.”

As the song played on, Drew started humming along, intentionally missing every high note and mixing up the lyrics in the most absurd way possible. You couldn’t stop laughing, your cheeks aching from the grin plastered on your face.

“You’re a terrible singer,” you managed between giggles.

He grinned, spinning you again. “And yet, here you are, dancing with me anyway.”

The song slowed, and so did the two of you, the laughter fading into a quiet, tender moment as you both swayed to the music.

Later that night, as Drew walked you to your bedroom in the cabin, he lingered in the doorway. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“Goodnight,” you replied, hesitating for a moment before adding, “Drew?”

“Yeah?” He turned back, hopeful.

You took a deep breath, your hand gripping the doorframe. “Thank you. For being patient. For making me laugh. For tonight.”

His smile was soft, genuine. “Anytime,” he said simply, before heading to his own room.

As you closed the door behind you, a small, hopeful smile spread across your lips. For the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you were moving toward something real.

You tossed and turned under the covers, staring at the ceiling as moonlight poured through the window. The cabin was quiet, save for the faint creaks of wood settling in the cold night air, but your mind was anything but calm.

With a sigh, you sat up, hugging the blanket around your shoulders. Your chest felt heavy, like something was missing. And you knew exactly what it was.

You hesitated for a moment before slipping out of bed and padding quietly down the hall to Drew’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and the soft sound of his even breathing greeted you as you pushed it open.

Drew was lying on his side, the blanket pulled halfway up his chest, his face peaceful in the moonlight. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him. It was a rare thing, seeing him so calm, so unguarded.

“Y/N?” His voice was groggy, barely above a whisper, as his eyes blinked open and focused on you. “Is everything okay?”

You shifted awkwardly, clutching the blanket around you. “Yeah, I just…” You hesitated, feeling vulnerable but pushing forward. “I couldn’t sleep. I—” You took a breath. “I missed you.”

Drew sat up slightly, his brow furrowing as if trying to make sense of your words through the haze of sleep. Then, a soft, knowing smile spread across his face. “Come here,” he murmured, lifting the edge of his blanket in invitation.

You didn’t hesitate this time, crossing the room and climbing into bed beside him. The warmth of his body enveloped you as he pulled the blanket over both of you. His arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you rested your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

“Better?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice muffled against him. “Much better.”

He chuckled lightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You don’t have to miss me, you know. I’m right here.”

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension in your body slowly melt away. “I know,” you murmured. “I just… needed this.”

Drew pressed a kiss to your hair, his embrace tightening slightly. “Me too,” he admitted quietly.

In the stillness of the night, wrapped in Drew’s arms, you felt the weight of your doubts begin to lift. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you could start to heal.

And as sleep finally claimed you, the last thing you heard was Drew’s soft, whispered promise: “I’ve got you, Y/N. Always.”

The next morning, you woke up to sunlight streaming through the cabin’s large windows. The world outside was blanketed in a soft layer of snow, and the air felt fresh and pure. You turned over to find Drew still asleep beside you, his features soft and relaxed in the quiet of the morning.

You felt at peace. No past mistakes, no regrets—just the present, and the possibility of something beautiful.

Drew stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and when he saw you, a slow smile spread across his face. "Morning," he said, his voice husky from sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, your heart warming at the sight of him. You reached out and gently traced his jawline, your fingers grazing over the familiar stubble. "I don’t think I’ve ever woken up feeling this… content."

Drew pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead. "Let’s make sure it stays that way," he whispered.

You closed your eyes, holding onto the feeling of his arms around you, the comfort of knowing that, no matter what, we were taking it one step at a time. Together.

Later that day, after a quiet breakfast—this time cooked by you instead of Drew—you packed your things and prepared to head back to the city. The weekend had been nothing short of transformative, filled with moments of laughter, vulnerability, and reconnection.

The drive back was a peaceful one, the hum of the car filling the space between them. Drew had one hand resting on the steering wheel, his other hand reaching across the console to hold yours. His thumb traced lazy circles against your skin.

You glanced at him, his fingers intertwined with yours, grounding you in a calm you hadn’t felt in ages. It amazed you how something as simple as holding his hand could make you feel so safe, so grounded.

“You okay?” Drew asked softly, his eyes briefly flicking toward her before returning to the road.

"You smiled, squeezing his hand. "Just thinking."

“About what?” he asked, his tone curious but gentle.

You hesitated for a moment, then said, “About how nice this weekend was. About how much I needed it.”

Drew smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Me too,” he admitted. “I didn’t realize how much I missed us until… well, until this.”

You looked back out the window, your heart swelling at his words. You didn’t want to get your hopes up when we first planned this weekend, but now, as we drove toward my apartment, you realized how much you wanted to keep building on what we’d started to rebuild.

They pulled up to the curb in front of your building, the lights of the city casting a soft glow across the interior of the car. Drew turned off the engine, his hand resting on the keys for a moment before he looked over at you.

The quiet hum of the city surrounded them, but in the small space of the car, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us.

“I had a great time this weekend,” Drew said, his voice low but rich with emotion. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, it was as though he was looking straight into her soul.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. There was something in his voice—an honesty, a vulnerability—that made your heart ache in the best possible way. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came. All you could do was nod, your smile soft and full of unspoken emotion.

Drew stepped out of the car and came around to your side before you even had a chance to move. He opened her door, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he helped you out. The warmth of his touch lingered, and as we walked toward my building, the air between us felt charged, thick with something unspoken.

We stopped in front of the elevator, the soft ding of its arrival breaking the silence. Drew set your bag down and turned to you, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with something unmistakable.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before you go, there’s something I need to say.”

You turned to face him fully, her heart pounding. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, as though gathering his courage. Then, he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you even as your heart raced.

“I love you,” he said, his voice raw, his words trembling with sincerity. “I’ve loved you for a long time. And this weekend… it just reminded me how much. You don’t have to say it back, and I don’t want to rush you. But I needed you to know.”

Your breath hitched, tears welling in your eyes at the sheer emotion in his voice. You saw it all in his face—the longing, the hope, the vulnerability. He wasn’t just saying it; he was offering it to you, baring his soul in a way that left her utterly speechless.

Your hand moved instinctively to cover his, holding it against your cheek as your lips curved into a trembling smile. “Drew,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly. “I…”

But before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate. His touch was electrifying, his fingers pressing into your hips as though anchoring you to him.

When you finally pulled apart, “I mean it,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m here. For however long it takes, I’m here.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks, but you didn’t care. You smiled through them, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “I’m getting there. I promise.” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “That’s all I need to hear.”

And then, without another word, you leaned in. The kiss was everything—passionate, deep, full of everything we hadn’t been able to say. It was slow at first, hesitant, but then it grew more urgent, more hungry. Drew’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. His fingers slid lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him, the heat between us growing with every second. The sensation of his hands on you made your heart race, every inch of your body responding to him.

You moaned softly into the kiss as our tongues met, the chemistry between us undeniable. Drew's grip tightened around your waist. His touch sent sparks through your skin, and you felt a longing that had been buried for too long.

We pulled apart, breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. You looked up at him, your chest heaving. Your voice was a soft whisper, barely audible in the cool night air.

You hesitated for only a moment before you said, voice soft but steady, “Do you want to come up?”

For a split second, Drew’s eyes darkened with longing, but then he shook his head gently. “Not yet,” he said, his hand moving to cup your face again. “I don’t want to rush this. Don’t want to rush you. When it happens, I want it to be because you’re absolutely ready.”

Your heart swelled at his words, at the patience and respect in his tone. You nodded, your hand resting over his. “You really are incredible, you know that?” You said with a soft smile.

He chuckled softly, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You make it easy.”

With that, he stepped back, his hands falling reluctantly to his sides as the elevator doors opened behind you. You stepped inside, her heart still pounding as she turned to face him.

As the elevator doors slid shut, cutting off your view of Drew, something shifted within you. The thought of leaving him standing there, waiting patiently once again, made your heart ache in a way you couldn’t ignore. You pressed the button to stop the elevator, and the doors reopened with a soft chime.

Drew was still there, exactly where you’d left him, his hands in his pockets, looking slightly surprised as the doors revealed you once more. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The city’s sounds hummed softly in the background, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart.

“Y/N?” he asked, taking a cautious step toward you. “Did you forget something?”

You stepped out of the elevator, closing the distance between you. “Yeah,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “I forgot that I don’t want to keep waiting. I’m tired of holding back when I know how I feel.”

Drew’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak, but you didn’t give him the chance. Your hand reached up, cupping his cheek, and you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was everything—the culmination of everything you’d been holding inside. It wasn’t hesitant or tentative; it was bold and certain, filled with the love you’d been too scared to fully admit until now.

He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. The kiss deepened, a quiet hum of relief and passion passing between you as the world around you seemed to fade away. There was no past, no future—just this moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, you rested your forehead against his. His hands remained on your waist, grounding you as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“I love you, Drew,” you said, the words spilling out with a confidence you hadn’t expected. “I’ve always loved you. I never stopped, even after everything that had happened. I was just… afraid. But I’m done running.”

Drew’s expression softened, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And I promise, Y/N, I’ll never give you a reason to run again.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but they were tears of joy, not sadness. You nodded, your hand covering his where it rested on your face. “I believe you,” you whispered.

He smiled—a real, unguarded smile that made your chest ache in the best way. “So,” he said, his tone lightening just a fraction as he held out his hand, “what do you say we go upstairs and start building that future together?”

You glanced at his hand, then back at his face, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and hope. Taking his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his. “I’d like that.”

This time, when the two of you stepped into the elevator, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken promise of a fresh start.

As the elevator ascended, Drew squeezed your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. And when the doors opened to your floor, the two of you walked out together, side by side, ready to face whatever came next.

Because this time, you weren’t just stepping into the future—you were doing it together.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291 @rafegf-real @matthewswifeyy @fangirl-magic @snowtargaryen @slut-era @leather-n-velvet @1mcrazybutcute

#drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x female reader #outer banks #obx season 4 #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey angst #fallingoutofframe the series #fallingoutofframe #starkeyslibrary

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velvetydream · 14 hours ago

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꒰ : 💋 [ Kissy Face ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Starstruck, his chocolate brown eyes stare up into yours as he waits for you to lean in again.

Pairing : Remus Lupin x fem! Reader

Word count : 1.2K Words

Genre : Fluff, James and Sirius are maniacs

a/n : I'm tired af so this is probably not my best work, also my first time writing for the marauders need to get used to write them.. https://www.instagram.com/reel/DD6zz_OIQ1T/?igsh=dWE1MTFsMGlyYXZt saw this Reel on Insta and can't tell me this aint Remus Lupin, so I had to take a short break from my Telemachus fic to write this!

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"He's down bad, Prongs; just look at that lovesick stare he bloody sports." Sirius groans as the two friends watch their best friend, who sits on the couch in front of the fireplace, hopelessly staring at you, who is in a deep conversation with Lily. "You think we should help him? Look how lost he looks, a wonder she didn't notice yet." James laughs, Peter looking at them confused from his spot beside Remus, before turning back to listen to Lily and yourself. "I mean, a little push won't be too bad, right? Like, help him move in the correct direction." Sirius smirks as he throws a knowing glance to James, before stalking over to their friend, plopping down on the couch on each side of Remus.

"You know, openly staring at her like that makes it pretty obvious." James shoves Remus slightly, making the boy finally cut his staring to look confused at his friends. He wasn't staring, was he? He simply listened to your and Lily's conversation. "Listen, mate, it's so freaking obvious to everyone but her; you stare at her like a lovesick puppy." Sirius throws his arm around his friend's neck, pulling him closer to himself, the boy scoring a bright blush now.

"Are you guys teasing Remus again? Leave him alone seriously!" Lily's voice breaks the hushed chat, all three boys looking over to the two girls now; your own eyes meet Remus's eyes, which quickly avert to the side, blush darkening even more. "We're not teasing him! Just helping him!" James protests to his crush, folding his arms in front of his chest now. "Yeah, we just want the best for him, anyways how about a round of truth or dare? Hm?" Remus's eyes widened, and shaking his head violently, he knew they were planning something. Those two would never do something to hurt him, but would definitely go miles saying it was purely done out of love for him. "Bet! Ladies first so.. Y/N, truth or dare?" Lily smiles over at you, confused as to why she decided to choose you immediately at the start. "Truth." Getting some 'boos' and 'boring' from James and Sirius, rolling your eyes. "Do you like someone?" She smirks, and by now, you truly think she is insane, a blush slowly creeping up your neck before you shyly nod. Remus stills at that, you had someone you liked? His heart was slightly breaking, feeling defeated without even trying to fight.

"Okay so.. James, truth or dare?" His eyes meet yours before he smirks, bravely muttering dare. "I dare you to kiss anyone in this room." Smiling, what Lily could do, you could too. Shoving her slightly in his direction, knowing exactly he was going to choose her. And just as you assumed, a soft kiss was pressed to the redhead's cheek. Before she scrambles back to her place beside you, glaring at you.

"Anyways.." James clears his throat before continuing, his eyes moving over to his friend beside him. "Remus, truth or dare?" Of course, he would choose him; the plan needed to move forward. "Dare.." He mutters quietly, catching both James and Sirius by surprise; he would never choose to dare; they basically had to pressure him every time to not only choose truth. "I dare you to get kisses by someone in this room.. with lipstick." Remus raises his head as James looks over to the girls. "Any of you got red lipstick?" Thinking for a second, you pull one out from your school bag, one of the other girls gifted it to you for Christmas. "Great, put it on, doll." James tells you.

"What? Me?" You look confused at him, why did he choose who it should be? Remus should choose, but before you could say anything, Lily applied the Lipstick to your lips and pushed you in the direction of the couch. This was definitely revenge for the shove you gave her not so long ago. Approaching the boy, you lean up on your knees, still not reaching Remus's full height, but definitely able to press a kiss somewhere on his face. "This okay?" You ask softly, not noticing the little sparkle in the boy's eyes as he nods.

Hands reach up to softly hold his cheeks as you pull him down a little further, before your warm lips connect with his chill skin to the side of his chin, before pulling away, giggling at the bright red mark on his face now. Eyes moving to look at his, gulping softly at the way his eyes look at you. Start struck like you hung the stars in the starry night sky, full of love overflowing.

"Geez, he's gone, I wouldn't have thought a simple peck would lead to that.." Sirius mutters but you pay him no mind as you stand up on your feet, Remus eyes following you, before you softly grab his hand to pull him along and up to the dorms. "That went better than I thought.." James grins triumphant, stretching his arms along the backrest.

Opening the door to the boy's room, you pull Remus in, giggling softly at the loving look he scored. It was adorable. A simple kiss and he was putty in your little hands. Pulling him along to his bed you make him sit down against the headboard before settling down beside him. "Do you want another one?" A slow nod is all you get as Remus stares at you. "You're adorable oh my god.." You giggle as your hands softly hold his face again, starting to plant little kisses everywhere. His cheek, his forehead, his chin, his nose.. all while he just stares at you lovestruck, his hands softly bunching the fabric of your shirt at your waist into his fists.

"Kinda glad those two idiots planned this, dunno how much longer I could've held off from kissing your cute face." Planting a brief kiss on his lips now, you think his brain is fully mushy now, his eyes barely wider as a small smile makes its way onto his lips as if he just realized what is happening to him. "You're okay, right? You haven't talked since down there." Thumb rubbing over his cheek, over one of the kiss marks, and to one of the scars on his face, those you took extra care to kiss as many times as you could. "I.. I'm fine.. I.. Thank you.." His words were mumbles, barely audible as his puppy eyes stared into yours. Giggling, you lean in again to plant your lips against his; this time, he closes his eyes, reciprocating the kiss.

"I think we have a lot to talk about tomorrow, but let's stay like this a while longer." He agrees with you quickly, enjoying some more of your soft touches and warm kisses. Embarrassing it got when the other boys barged into the room, making Remus groan in frustration, hiding his face in your shoulder as he hugged you closer to him. "Damn Moony! Look at you, like a lovesick puppy; really got yourself a keeper, huh Y/N?" Sirius calls over to you, making you roll your eyes. "Get lost." Flicking him off, they leave the two of you alone in the room again.

"They're gone now.." Fingers softly playing with his chocolate brown locks lovingly, smiling as he keeps hiding. You would definitely get back at all three of them for this.

#x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #marauders x reader #marauders #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #lupin x reader #imagines #imagine #marauder imagine #fluff

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ascianmoon · 3 days ago

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Unmasked

AO3: Here

Pairing: Lucanis x Crow!Rook

Genres: coffee sipping n flirting hehe, let spite join in

Rating: SFW

Summary: "He could practically feel Spite purr at this new view of Rook, behind the mask she clutched to her chest among him and the others back at the Lighthouse. What more could Lucanis do to peel it away?"

authors note: this is the first of many drabbles and chapters i'd like to write for my crow!rook & lucanis. pls lemme ♡/share and lemme know what you think!!

“I’ll clean house if that’ll make you happy, I have this under control.” A snide glare was thrown across the table, “Maybe you could try doing the same, De Riva.” Illario didn’t deign them with a farewell, shooting up from his seat to storm out of the cafe.

Burning. Crackling ocean and tang. Crisp and burnt and ROOK-

He could practically feel Spite purr at this new view of Rook, behind the mask she clutched to her chest among him and the others back at the Lighthouse. What more could Lucanis do to peel it away? Petty jabs and snide comments like Illario’s were crossed from his list. He’d never forgive himself.

Sap.

The air felt heavy with a static charge, his own shoulders hunching from an unfavorable habit in tense moments before he forced himself to shake them loose. Swirling his coffee once more he inhaled deeply, the aroma settling whatever else stormed inside him as Spite preened and cooed around Rook. “He’s gone. Drink your coffee,” Lucanis encouraged softly.

Rook slipped a hand around her own cup, fingers curling around it almost delicate and elegant if not for the tension making her move rigidly. A few tentative sips later and she was back to herself again, cradling the cup as if it comforted her and the corners of her lips no longer downturned. “He’s just so…” Her lavender gaze flickered over the vined awning above them, probably searching for an appropriate word to describe his cousin.

“Stubborn?”

“Yes,” heaving a sigh, Rook twisted in her seat to face him. “To put it politely, he’s very stubborn and would do well listening to us. It just makes no sense that Zara would be back in Tevinter so quickly. As far as I’m aware the Venatori don’t have eluvians like we do.”

Lucanis shrugged and sipped on his coffee, Spite badgering beside him at the mention of the Venatori witch. “He will come around, Illario’s always been clouded by emotions when it comes to family. He will see what we see soon enough.”

“Right.” Kohl lined eyes narrowed at him from across the table, clearly unconvinced but relenting in favour of keeping the newly acquired peace of their coffee date.

Date? With Rook? Let’s take-

“No.”

“I’m sorry?

“Spite is acting up as usual, ignore it.”

She seemed amused at that, staring into her coffee with a tiny smile, finger tracing the rim of the cup slow and methodical. A blanket of quiet settled over them, the soft hum of the cafe surrounding them filling the space between them. Spite thankfully sulked back into wherever he hid inside Lucanis’ head.

Lucanis fought (and lost) to keep his gaze from following the movement of her finger, trailing up her slender arm to her face. The way her mouth tilted at one side as her expression turned wistful, something cheeky and mischievous glinting in her eyes as she caught him staring. He flushed at being caught and escaped behind the rim of his cup to savour his remaining coffee.

“What was it you said the blend was again… bitter and sweet, like a kiss goodbye?” Had Rook leaned closer? Her head was tilted coyly, her hair falling over her shoulder as she inched forward. “I’m curious. What would you say a first kiss is then?” Another slip of her mask, whether it was genuine or teasing Lucanis couldn’t say and found in that moment he didn’t care.

“Honey and lavender cream,” he rasped in an effort to play it off coolly, head suddenly a thousand miles away from the quaint cafe and somewhere dangerously enticing. A lavender gaze twinkling at him in the dark. Spite poked his head from his refuge, the scent of a game luring him out. “It’s sweet and… intriguing.” His eyes dipped to her lips and back to hers again, cursing inwardly as Rook’s smile only seemed to widen, yet again caught.

Rook plays! You. Want!

“And you, how would you describe it?”

Sighing almost longingly Rook leaned back in her chair, lithe fingers toying with a strand of dark hair as her eyes roamed over him. Lucanis had noted she wasn’t shy when it came to staring and throwing looks when people weren’t watching, he was her main target as of late much to Spite’s enjoyment, preening from her attention. “First kisses,” she mused and let her hair twist around her finger slow, enchanting. “I’ve had a couple but it’s been a while. I can barely recall the last, perhaps I need a reminder.”

“Is that so? I see.” The insinuation wasn’t lost on him, he stared bashfully into his cup. After a moment he cleared his throat, gesturing to her forgotten cup, “How is your coffee?”

Rook flicked her hair back over her shoulder. She reached once more for her coffee, taking a final sip as she watched him from over the rim. “Bitter, dark… invigorating.”

His pulse jumped at the clear double meaning and teasing lilt of her voice.

Spite answered with a howl of elated and delirious laughter.

#lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #crow!rook #da4 lucanis #lucanis romance #dragon age lucanis #rookanis #dragon age rook

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jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka · 2 days ago

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Merry Christmas! 🎄Thank you again to everyone who has stuck with me through this. I hope you enjoy the last half of the last chapter, part 11.2!

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner *slash! Happy holidays!

Warnings and tags: 18+ only! Adult themes including: drinking, processing of feelings, important talks, little bit of fear and anxiety, big emotions, little bit of flirting, little bit of dirty talk over the phone, partying, smut including: drunk sex, lots of kissing, some fingering, unprotected sex, mentions of oral sex, even more dirty talk, dad Jake AU, uncle Danny AU

Word count: 8.2k

Jake got back into his Nashville life at full swing as soon as he arrived home. There were lots of new project plans to be reviewed for approval, budgets to comb through, and meetings to attend all before the new year. It was exhausting but he was filling the position remarkably well, at least as far as everyone had told him.

Most nights he was bringing work home with him, which made it even harder to also be staying in touch with everyone he’d promised to, but Jake made sure to carve out some time every night for himself. After dinner and putting Luna to bed, Jake would call Josh as he prepared for bed. Even if it was just a simple ‘hey how have you been’ or a venting of frustrations after a particularly difficult day, it felt good to get back into the routine of speaking with his twin every night.

After they both said their good nights, Jake would crawl into bed and open up his string of messages with Danny. Sometimes he wouldn’t even remember where they had left off when texting back and forth throughout the day, and some days he would be too busy to really even say much at all. Danny understood the text could be far and few between, and after a few abrupt silences he realized just how busy Jake truly was.

Part of Danny felt guilty for taking up some of Jake’s precious time, but he was exceedingly happy anytime he did get some of his attention which happened to most consistently be late at night. Tonight specifically he was surprised to be getting a call.

“Sorry, I’m too tired to text right now” Jake spoke quietly when Danny answered.

“That’s alright, I can let you go to bed” Danny replied, feeling a pang in his side at the sound of Jake’s sleepy voice. He remembered that voice all too well, only in his memories he was laying by Jake’s side not hundreds of miles away.

“Will you just talk to me? Want to hear your voice” Jake begged, his head already resting on his pillow with his phone on speaker beside him.

Feeling a bit on the spot Danny nervously asked what Jake wanted him to talk about, to which Jake responded with anything at all. “I got Emma a soccer ball and new shoes for Christmas, it's been too cold to go out and play but I told her when spring comes we can go to the park and I’ll practice with her. She’s already signed up for another team this year but she says you were the best coach”.

Jake smiled softly at the thought of Danny playing on the field. With his eyes closed he could easily picture it, the golden sun behind him making the russet highlights in his coily hair shine. Danny is smiling a bright toothy grin and the kids are laughing in the background as he kicks the ball towards the goal and misses. Jake cheers him on anyway and Danny returns to his side with a lopsided smile as he throws an arm over his shoulders.

Danny continued to talk about nothing really, until he stopped for a moment to see if Jake was even still listening. When Jake didn’t respond he realized the man on the other end had fallen soundly asleep, soft barely audible snores filled the silence and Danny stayed on the line for just a while longer to listen.

A month had already passed and things were finally starting to slow down on Jake’s end. He found more time to text back and forth, and Danny stayed supportive even when he himself had long days at the shop.

“How are things going with the baby?” Jake asked, having also gotten into the habit of just calling Danny after he finished talking with Josh.

“He’s the cutest little squishy faced alien I’ve ever seen” Danny replied making Jake scoff and chuckle. “Really, when they’re this young they don’t even look human. I love him anyway though”.

“I’m glad you’re there for your sister, babies are a lot of work”. Jake knew this from experience, having mostly raised Luna on his own since his wife had been too sick when their daughter was just born.

“My mom takes the early morning shifts, and I come by after work. I never realized how many bottles you go through in just one day”.

“And diapers” Jake added, to which Danny exhaled and heartily agreed.

“Little Robbie sure does know how to steal everyone’s attention though. Even Emma wants to hold him all of the time”.

“I can’t wait to meet him”. There was something Jake needed to ask Danny, but he had been waiting until everything was sorted out before he did so that he didn’t get anyone’s hopes up. “Actually, I was just looking at flights today”.

“Really?” Danny replied, trying not to sound too excited at the idea of seeing Jake again.

“Next month Josh is throwing an engagement party at the gallery. Would you like to come with me as my plus one?”

That was an easy answer, Danny didn’t even need to check his schedule whatever the date was he would make sure he was available. “I’d love to”.

“I can only get a couple of days off, so I’m flying in the day before and back out the day after. My in-laws are going to watch Luna here for me since it will be such a quick trip”.

“Well, I won’t take you away from Josh too much, but it will be good to see you. I miss you”.

“I miss you too” Jake sighed, “a lot”.

“Oh yeah?” Danny’s voice turned up in tone, a hint of mischief coloring the way he spoke. Now that he had something to look forward to he felt reanimated, which led him to playfully push their conversation a little further than it usually went even on their late night calls. “How much do you miss me?”

Jake blushed at the simple question with a not so hidden deeper meaning. With their texting coming more frequently their exchanges had started to become more and more flirtatious as time went on and they both began to grow comfortable with each other again. “Enough that it's getting harder and harder to not jump on a plane just to come see you”.

“Hmm, yeah I bet it is pretty hard” Danny pushed even further, heavily insinuating that there was something else he expected to be hard when Jake thought about seeing him. “Tell me Jake, do you fantasize about it?”

“About seeing you?” Jake tried to play innocent but his heart was already starting to beat faster, sending blood flowing through his body in places he’d been neglecting recently. “I think about it all of the time. I’m always thinking about you Danny”.

“What do you do when you think about me and I’m not there?”

“Well” Jake felt a little awkward talking about this over the phone, but he knew he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of so he told him the truth. “Sometimes I take a bath, and I close my eyes and I think about feeling you with me”.

“And does it work? Do you feel me with you?” Danny was starting to sound less teasing with his questioning and more serious as he too pictured Jake in the bath with his back pressed against his chest.

“Sometimes it does, and sometimes I just get frustrated and give up”.

“Oh no, we can’t have that” Danny clicked his tongue. “You know you can always call me for help. I wouldn’t mind walking you through exactly how I’d take care of you”.

Jake started to feel like his room was growing uncomfortably hot. He flipped his blankets off and sat up in bed, Danny noticing the sound of rustling in the background.

“Am I getting you flustered?” Danny snickered, though he hoped Jake wasn’t getting too embarrassed to the point he wouldn’t want to try a few more things over the phone at some point. Tonight didn’t have to go there yet, but he did think if they were going to make this long distance work they would have to break the ice on that matter somehow.

“Shut up, I know you’re getting off on this too” Jake shot back.

Danny laughed a little harder, and it eased Jake’s nerves. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point. Don’t worry we can work on it, but for tonight I think I’ll let you get some sleep”.

“That might be a little difficult now” Jake mumbled, still trying to get his mind, and body, to calm down. He was definitely going to have some steamy dreams but he couldn’t really complain about that. If anything he envied himself in his dreams since he was the only one getting any real action these days. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow. Sweet dreams”.

Jake checked himself in the full length mirror in the gallery bathroom, making sure his outfit was still perfectly in place before he rejoined the party outside. Josh and his partner had a brief ceremony that mostly consisted of their own vows and exchange of rings. Just enough to satisfy their families since they still planned to elope at the end of spring.

The artwork that usually hung on the expansive white walls were replaced with photos of the happy couple throughout the years of their loving relationship, and fresh flowers decorated surfaces in large crystal vases. One of the rooms that usually held sculpted pieces had been cleared and a temporary dance floor laid down where most of the guests were already putting it to good use.

“Are you going to dance?” Danny asked from behind Jake, startling him for a moment until he rolled his shoulders back and shook his head.

“I don’t dance” Jake replied, eyes searching for something else entirely. “But I do drink” he continued once he spotted the open bar, his feet already carrying him quickly across the room to place an order.

Danny followed him, ordering a beer of his own. “Something tells me after a few of these you might be changing your mind”.

“You’ll be sorely disappointed, but I’m sure you can find someone else to humor you”. There was a bite in Jake’s tone as he sipped from his glass bottle. He’d noticed a few guests eyeing Danny during the ceremony even as Danny stood closely next to Jake. Not that he could blame them though, Danny looked great with his black on black turtle neck and slacks paired with a deep wine colored jacket. His curly hair had been pulled back into a low knot with a few strands pulled free to frame his angular face. When it came to drinking, Jake was more worried about how he was going to behave with this ridiculously hot man following him around all night rather than making a fool of himself dancing.

A few more drinks in and Jake was leaned against the wall watching as his brother and his boyfriend danced without a care in the world. Jake could tell Josh had a few more drinks than usual, but this was his celebration and he was enjoying himself. As was Danny who finally broke away and approached Jake with a determined smile.

“Come on, have one dance with me” Danny pleaded with a pull of his hand. A slow song started to play next, and couples joined the dance floor together. With a huff Jake set his drink down and followed Danny, his feet feeling a little more heavy and tingly than he had registered while standing still.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Danny leaned in to ask once they had their arms wrapped around each other and started to sway with the music.

“I am,” Jake assured him. “Seeing Josh happy makes me happy”.

“He says the same thing about you” Danny chuckled like he was in on a joke Jake was unaware of. When Jake’s brows furrowed he divulged a little more. “Josh is pretty drunk, he may or may not have cornered me while we were dancing earlier to tell me he was glad we’re back together”.

“Ah” At one point in his life Jake would have been annoyed by any interference in his love life, but considering it was Josh who had convinced him to talk to Danny again he decided to let it pass this time.

Speaking of the devil, Josh interrupted their dance, which Jake didn’t complain about either. “We’re about to kick everyone out so we can close up, but a few people are coming back to my place for an after party. You two coming?”

Jake looked up at Danny, he could feel the flush in his cheeks already and because he had arrived so late last night they hadn’t spent any time alone together yet. “Yeah, count us in!” Danny cheerfully answered, his own drunken mind not realizing that Jake was actually trying to call it a night.

”Great! Give us about thirty or so minutes and we should all fit into the van. Danny, you’re more than welcome to stay the night in Jake’s room. Don’t want you trying to get home in this state”. Josh waved his hand around, his own body swaying slightly as he giggled when Jake’s eyes narrowed.

When Josh left them to be again, Danny’s arms circled around Jake tighter as he leaned in again. “Sounds like we’ve got his blessing”.

“I don’t need his permission to do anything” Jake grumbled, “I’m a grown man who makes his own decisions”.

“Oh I don’t doubt that one second”. Danny found Jake’s moody attitude endearing, knowing he was only being grumpy because he was embarrassed about Josh making it a point to invite Danny to stay the night. “I’m just glad those decisions include me”.

Jake cracked a smile, unable to imagine anyone else he’d rather be slow dancing at his twin’s engagement party with. The dance floor was starting to clear as most of the guests were preparing to head home, and Jake thought it the perfect opportunity to press onto his tippy toes and steal a kiss.

”Thanks for coming with me, for giving me another chance, I want to make everything up to you”.

Now that Jake had officially made the first move, Danny reached over to cup his face and pulled him into another deeper kiss. “You already are”.

After a quick restroom break, Danny washed up at the sink before using his wet hands to tame some frizz he hadn’t noticed was sticking up from his bun. He hoped he hadn’t been walking around for too long with it looking like that, his only relief being that everyone had been drinking so much since getting back to Josh’s house that surely no one cared.

Flicking the switch to the bathroom light, Danny stepped back into the dark hallway, no one having bothered to turn on the lights in this part of the house while the party was continuing in full swing elsewhere. The music emanating from the living room masked any sounds that would have clued Danny into the fact that he wasn’t alone in the hallway, and he was at peace until a pair of grabby hands pushed him against the opposite wall.

Lips attacked him next, and if he hadn’t at once been so familiar with their plush tickle then he might’ve faught the stranger off. This was no stranger though, but his lover having given into temptation and taken this opportunity away from the others to pounce.

“Jake,” Danny whispered his name in a laugh that formed deep in his chest as kisses were scattered across his chin, the corner of his mouth, and traveled lower to the small part of his neck exposed by his sweater. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Jake replied dryly, barely removing his lips from Danny to speak.

“I don’t know, it’s really dark in here”.

“Well, the bedroom is this way. We can turn the light on if you want. Or not, I don’t care, I just need you”. Jake pulled off, only to drag him deeper into the blackness of the hallway until he heard a door clicking open.

In all the times Danny had visited Josh’s house he’d never been in any of the bedrooms. Inside a small bedside lamp was on, and his eyes needed a minute to adjust before he could take everything in. It was a decently sized room, bigger than the spare bedroom Danny had stayed at in his sister's home. It fit a queen sized bed with a footboard bench that held a carry-on suitcase zipped opened, its contents strewn about.

Before Danny could even comment on the interesting piece of artwork that hung above the bed, Jake was already pushing him down into a seated position on the mattress. His attention was instantly ripped away from his surroundings and Danny was captivated instead by Jake as he stood in front of him and started to strip.

First his suit jacket came off, then he undid the mere three buttons of his vest. The same vest with the swoop neckline that exposed his chest and had Danny ogling him all night.

“Are you going to take something off too? Or are you just going to sit there and stare?” There was an alcoholic infused confidence in Jake’s demeanor paired with a smirk on his face as he reveled in the way Danny was mesmerized by the sight of him.

“Was hoping you’d take this off for me actually”. Danny matched his playful banter, his fingers dancing around the hem of his sweater as Jake bit at his lip in anticipation. “Considering you’re kind of taking the lead”.

Jake was suddenly hyper aware of his actions. They hadn’t talked again about being ready to be intimate, but he’d assumed by the way their calls had started to go from innocent flirtiness to borderline phone sex recently that he and Danny were on the same page here.

“Oh, well, I can dial it down a bit…” he started to fumble his words and his arms came up to cover his now bare chest. Had he gone too far too soon?

Danny quickly caught on to the sudden shift in demeanor and jumped up from the bed, cupped Jake’s face in his hands, and pulled him into another heated kiss. “Please don’t stop Jake. You don’t know how bad I want this”.

“Hmm” Jake hummed against his mouth in relief, “I think I really do”.

With renewed conviction Jake started to back Danny up against the bed again, only this time he joined him by crawling into his lap all while continuing to kiss him vigorously. Like Danny had suggested he broke away to pull his sweater off, tossing it onto the floor with the other discarded pieces and immediately went back to work pressing more kisses to his shoulders and collar.

“Fuck, I missed this” Danny groaned, leaving no more doubt in Jake’s mind about where they were both headed when he reached around and grabbed two handfuls of his backside and pulled him even closer.

Jake muffled a weak moan against the cave of Danny’s neck when their still clothed erections pressed together, and he rocked his hips back and forth to grind into him harder. “Want you Danny, want you so bad”.

“Will you show me?” Danny asked. The alcoholic elixir mixing in his veins swirled through his body and turned every nerve to fire. He needed more.

Jake was far past reservations as well, more than ready to please in any way he could so long as he got some much needed relief of his own. Before they could take things up another notch he knew he needed one more thing, which was packed thoughtfully at the top of his suitcase at the foot of the bed.

Silently he retreated from their embrace leaving Danny flustered and bemused alone on the bed, but only for a moment as he walked around and retrieved a brand new bottle of lube. When he turned around again, Danny was already sliding out of his pants with an amused grin.

“Came prepared this time did we?”

“I don’t see you complaining” Jake cocked a brow as he watched Danny palm himself through his boxers. It was certainly a sight worth beholding, and his mouth watered a bit at the outline of his length bulging through the thin cotton

“If you don’t get your ass back over here soon, I will be” Danny challenged, only accepting having to wait a few seconds longer for Jake to step out of his last bits of clothing first before climbing back into bed.

Greeting him with a kiss, Danny pulled Jake to the middle of the mattress and positioned him on all fours. Jake handed him the bottle, willingly giving over control like passing a baton with full trust Danny could finish the race for them. He heard the sound of the cap popping open and mentally prepared himself for the oncoming feeling of slick fingers lathering up his hole.

Danny was slow and meticulous with opening him up, making sure Jake was doing a good job taking the first finger well before adding another. Jake groaned when he started to scissor him open even wider, adding more lube as he went, the slick sounds of his fingers working filling the room.

Jake’s head was already swimming in pleasure as he angled his hips with an arch of his back and thrust backwards, trying to make Danny’s strong fingers hit that spot.

“Don’t be greedy”. Danny gripped his hip with his opposite hand, holding Jake steady as he leaned over and captured his lips again. As he kissed him, Danny slid his fingers free making Jake cry into his mouth at the loss. “Are you ready for me?”

Jake whimpered and rocked his hips back again, searching for Danny. That was his answer right there. Reaching forward, Danny grabbed one of the many pillows that had been stacked against the headboard and helped tuck it under Jake’s chest.

“Lay down” he whispered next, the hand still gripping Jake’s hip soothingly urging him down as he scooted aside to let Jake’s weak knees collapse onto the bed.

“Danny, please” Jake begged, wrapping an arm around the pillow underneath him and giving it a squeeze. “I can’t wait to be with you anymore”.

“I know Jake” Danny conceded. He hooked a thumb into the waistband of his boxers, the front of the cotton already damp with precum, and slid them off before positioning himself over Jake’s round backside. Slowly he used his hand to part his cheeks, his tip sliding across his entrance to gather some lube before pressing inside.

Jake gasped at the initial shock of being filled again but within seconds his body was already adjusting, relaxing and allowing Danny in deeper until he was buried to the hilt. Before he could move Danny grabbed a hold of Jake’s shoulder to steady himself, his eyes screwing shut as he concentrated on not busting right there.

Once he pulled himself far enough back from the edge Danny lowered himself like a blanket over Jake’s entire back, hooked his chin around his shoulder, and nuzzled his face next to his. Jake felt a fuzzy tingle spread across his body when Danny started to roll his hips into him, the pressure of the weight on top of him keeping his physical form grounded as the rest of him drifted into ecstasy.

“Fuck Danny, feel so full” Jake was a moaning mess now, hugging the pillow tightly with the rest of his body trapped and unable to move. In all other cases Jake might’ve been uncomfortable with the position leaving him completely vulnerable and helpless, but in this instance Danny felt like a comfort he’d never get rid of. An all encompassing shelter of love and affection he felt with each steady thrust.

“God you feel like heaven” Danny muttered, half in response to Jake, and half just a mindless uttering of the irrepressible feelings he had right now. “I’m already so close”.

“Oh Danny… Danny, Danny, Danny” Jake repeated over and over again, a mantra formed deep in his heart bleeding further from him every time it pumped against his ribcage. It was overwhelming the emotion he felt, and a singular tear slipped free that he quickly dried against the pillow before Danny could see.

Danny pressed a kiss to Jake’s shoulder and lifted up a little, giving Jake a bit more room to breathe which he needed now that Danny braced himself and started to thrust at full force. “I’m gonna cum Jake, is that what you want?”

Jake didn’t respond, only bit down onto the corner of the pillow now to save the rest of the house from having to hear what they were up to since disappearing together.

“Tell me Jake or I swear to God I’ll stop right now, flip you over, and fuck you until the sun comes up”.

Though the offer did sound slightly appealing, Jake was already exhausted and beyond ready for relief. “Fuck Danny yes! Yes I want you to cum in me”.

“Here it is baby, all for you” Danny managed to bite out before spilling inside, filling Jake with his warmth just as Jake came himself with nothing but the friction of Danny fucking him into the mattress.

Holding his breath waiting for Danny to pull out Jake let his eyes flutter shut, reveling in the post-high buzz. Danny managed instead to slide his arms underneath his chest and rolled them both onto their sides, spooning Jake while still tucked inside.

They laid there for a while, synchronizing their breaths back down to a steady pace.

“I don’t want to ever be parted from you” Jake confessed in a hushed tone. “You make me feel whole”.

“I’m right here” Danny whispered back, wrapping his arms tighter around the smaller man and barely twitching his hips, just enough for Jake to feel it and know he was still there.

Jake craned his neck back, looking over his shoulder to see Danny was already starting to drift off. They both knew what Jake had meant, he didn’t mean now but what about tomorrow when he went back home? What about next month when the pain of missing each other started to really set in? Then after that, when would they see each other next? Get to fall asleep in each other's arms?

None of those questions could be answered now, but what Jake could do was try to enjoy the time he did have with him. So Jake pressed his lips softly to Danny’s, leaving him with a promising kiss and nestled back against the pillows.

In the morning Jake slipped out of bed without waking a still sleeping Danny. At some point in the night they had become separated, and Danny had managed to get them both under the covers protected from the crisp morning air. After a quick stop by the bathroom, Jake stumbled into the kitchen expecting it to be empty.

“You look like you could use some coffee” Josh spoke up, startling Jake into full consciousness where he’d previously been walking around the house half-awake in a sleepy daze.

“What are you doing up already?” Jake questioned, his gaze zeroing in on the steaming mug Josh held in his hands. “And yes, I need some coffee pronto”.

“I haven’t really gone to bed yet”. Josh admit, watching through red-rimmed eyes as Jake pulled the largest mug he could find out of the cabinet and poured himself some of the black gold. “You missed quite a bit of party”.

“I was partied out, you know my social battery drains quickly” Jake tried to use a good excuse, but Josh’s lift of his brows showed he knew there were ulterior motives at play.

“Speaking of draining activities”.

Jake tried to take a sip of his coffee just as he looked up and saw Danny waltzing through the threshold to join them. He had pulled his slacks from last night back on which sat low on his hips, clearly no underwear underneath since they’d been ruined. His torso was bare still and he was stretching upwards as he yawned, the muscles of his shoulders and chest flexing. Memories from last night came flooding back to the front of Jake’s mind and he choked on the piping hot liquid making Josh snicker next to him.

“You look glowing” Josh accounted with his own sip, barely getting any in his mouth before Jake elbowed him in the side.

“And you two look like train wrecks” Danny responded, not even acknowledging the silly brotherly antics between the twins. It was too early for that. “Hey, you’ve got coffee?”

“Yeah! Want some?” Josh offered his mug, and before Danny could reach across the table to accept Jake was jumping up to find him his own to drink from.

“I’m going to take a shower and start getting ready. Josh are you still up for taking me to the airport or should I go try and find Sam somewhere?”

“Please, Sam was worse off than I was when he passed out on the couch last night. He’s not waking anytime soon. I’m fine”.

“I’m not worried about the ride there,” Jake continued as he handed Danny a clean mug and showed him where the sugar was. “but I don’t want you falling asleep behind the wheel coming back by yourself. The airport is pretty far from here”.

“Well then Danny should just come too,” Josh turned towards the man in question who had just been trying to mix his coffee. “I can drop you back off at your place after?”

“Yeah” Danny shrugged. He figured he’d just get a ride home with Sam later since he was the one who had picked him up the night before, but this way he could spend a little more time with Jake. “I’d love to come”.

“It’s settled then” Josh stood and placed his empty cup in the sink, stopping to give Jake’s shoulder a loving squeeze before excusing himself to freshen up.

“How did you sleep?” Danny asked, his eyes looking Jake up and down like he was trying to gauge whether or not he was physically okay.

“Really good actually” Jake huffed as he took another drink of his coffee before it cooled down too much. “Just woke up with a little hangover, I haven’t drank like that in a while”. More and more memories started to come back as he drank. Slow dancing at the gallery, taking shots with Danny and his brothers as soon as they got back to the house, attacking Danny in the hallway… falling asleep wrapped in strong arms.

“Yeah, last night was…” Danny paused to find the correct words he wanted to use to describe it, “a lot. So you’re okay then?”

Jake looked over his mug with a puzzled expression, thinking why wouldn’t I be okay?

Noticing his confusion Danny decided to explain a little more where his worry came from. “I mean things are still a little fuzzy, but I didn’t like crush you or anything did I?”

Jake’s cheeks flamed red embarrassment at the realization that Danny was afraid he’d hurt him during sex.

Danny immediately set to apologizing, “Sorry! I was drunk, and you were coming on really strong. It was really hot and I just couldn’t hold myself back”.

“Shhh!” Jake jumped up from his chair again and clapped a hand over Danny’s mouth effectively cutting him off and silencing him. “You didn’t hurt me” he corrected in a hushed voice, “quite the opposite actually”.

Hesitantly Jake removed his hand, revealing a shy smile underneath. “So, it was as good for you as it was for me?” Danny asked again, this time in the same quiet tone even though he was sure no one else in the house was even capable of listening to them right now.

“I mean, I’ve never done that before so yeah”.

“That?” Danny blinked at him, now being the one confused about what the other was referring to.

Jake glanced around the kitchen, making sure Josh wasn’t about to pop up from anywhere. When he determined the coast was still clear he leaned in closer to speak even quieter. “I’ve never, cum without being touched before”.

“Oh…” Danny’s mouth formed the actual letter ‘O’ before pulling into a wide grin, “Oh, so you really liked it then?” His arms circled around Jake’s torso and his lips tickled his ear with a whisper. “You were so fucking hot, all I’m going to be able to think about for days is how good I fucked you last night”.

“Danny” Jake hissed, trying and failing to pry himself out of Danny’s embrace.

“Say my name like you said it last night baby. Sounded like music when you moaned it over and over and over”.

Jake wasn’t sure if he was trying to get him riled up or not, but the front of his pants were growing tighter the more he teased him like this. “Need to clean up before we leave” he gave up on trying to free himself and Danny pulled back to look at him, glancing down at the half hard-on pressed up against his thigh. “Shower. Now”.

Danny spent about half of their shower making up for not having touched Jake last night, and Jake hoped the sound of the water drowned out his whimpers as Danny sucked him off. The other half was quickly washing up, Jake had to board his flight in three hours and it was going to take at least one to get to the airport.

Josh didn’t mind that Jake chose to sit in the backseat with Danny, in fact he kept smiling to himself every time he looked through the rearview mirror and saw them saddled up next to each other, their hands intertwined together in Danny’s lap and Jake’s head resting on his shoulder. His brother looked so at peace beside him and it warmed his heart to finally see him happy and content again.

“I’m going to find somewhere to toss this real quick” Josh announced as he pulled up to the passenger drop off area. He threw the car in park but left it on as he collected an empty bottle of water and started to wander off, clearly just trying to give the two of them some privacy to say their goodbyes.

“It's not long enough” Jake sighed as he turned and pressed his forehead to Danny’s who reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “It’s never going to be long enough”.

“It’s just temporary” Danny tried to console him even though his own heart was breaking to let him go. It was in moments like these he understood why Jake didn’t want to do this in the beginning, but he’d experienced the pain of thinking he’d lost him for good and that was far worse in comparison.

Come with me, I’ll buy you a ticket right now Jake desperately wanted to say, but he knew how big of an ask that was. “Until I see you again then?”

“I can’t wait” Danny smiled, his thumb gently caressing his cheek before pulling Jake into a bittersweet kiss.

Josh returned just as they were both getting out of the car. Jake hugged Danny then turned and pulled his brother into one as well and they both watched as he disappeared into the terminal. “You moving up front?” He asked and Danny nodded solemnly.

They made it a good few miles away from the airport in complete silence, not even any music playing, just the sound of Josh’s blinker clicking when he changed lanes.

“This must be hard on you guys” Josh finally broke, needing to talk now before his eyes grew too heavy.

“He’s worth it” Danny replied without turning his face from where he watched the landscape fly by outside the window.

“I of all people know that” Josh chuckled, checking his mirrors before passing another slow car on the highway. “But have you two talked about what you’re going to do? You can’t keep this up forever”.

Danny sighed, leaning his head against the rest in frustration that wasn’t directed at Josh, just at the world in general. “Not really. I know he’s busy but I think he’s been avoiding the topic”.

“Well, have you tried bringing it up then?” Josh felt partially like he shouldn’t be dabbling this much, but on the other hand he’d had to push Jake this far. Maybe Danny needed a little push as well. “What is it you want Danny?”

“I just want to be with him, support him, be there to drop off and pick Luna up from school, have dinner together every night. I want it all, just as long as it’s with him”.

“So you love him then”.

Danny looked at Josh now, studying the stoic face that looked so similar to that of his lover especially from this angle. “Absolutely I do”.

“Then you should go tell him that. I know for a fact he’s in love with you. I just can’t stand to see either of you like this, you’re torturing yourselves. I think you’ve both proven that this is the real deal, so why continue this way?”

“I guess I’ve just been trying to give him some time to sort everything out. I don’t want to impose or anything”.

Josh chuckled and shook his head. For two idiots in love they really did need a lot of guidance. “Jake always puts everyone else first. He’s not going to ask you to give up your life here to be with him. If it’s truly what you want then you need to just make it happen”.

Danny pondered Josh’s advice for a while. Could he really do that? There wasn’t anyone who knew Jake better than his brother right? So if Josh thought that was the best way then maybe he needed to take a leap of faith.

“Anyways, it's just something to think about” Josh shrugged. If he got through to him then great, and if not then he and Jake would just have to figure things out on their own.

“Thanks Josh” Danny replied, “Jake is really lucky to have you”.

“Hey, you’ve got me too. I already consider you like another little brother, just don’t let Sam get it in his head that he’s not the youngest anymore”. Josh flashed a smile, and Danny gave him one back. A genuine smile that showed Josh really had made a difference.

When Jake made it home he picked Luna up from his in-laws house. She slept in the car the whole way home and they had dinner together before she got a bath and headed back to bed, exhausted after a long weekend at the grandparents.

He had sent both Josh and Danny ‘made it home’ texts before laying Luna down. Josh hadn’t replied, but he figured he was probably still sleeping off the night before. Danny however, the message showed that it had been read but there was also no reply. Jake tried not to think anything of it and pulled his laptop out to prepare a bit for work in the morning before deciding to call it without any calls tonight.

In the morning he accidentally slept in later than he had planned to, still feeling jet lagged even after just one quick afternoon flight. He jumped out of bed and quickly got Luna dressed for school, rushing out the door without checking his phone.

It was lunch time already before he had a second to breathe. Locking himself in his office Jake pulled out his lunch that was sloppily packed in a hurry this morning and realized he had grabbed one of Luna’s snack boxes instead of his left overs. With a sigh he pulled his phone out, trying to find something he could get delivered before his next meeting. After placing an order he swiped out of the app and noticed he had a few missed notifications. Josh had liked his message about making it back last night, and Sam had sent him a link to an event happening in Nashville this summer that he’d talked about wanting to meet up for. He shot Sam a quick response that he was welcome any time then went looking for a notification from Danny. There was nothing.

That was a bit weird. Usually Danny always sent him a good morning text, but maybe it had slipped his mind, or maybe he had been running late today just like Jake was. Jake took the initiative himself then and saw his new message pop up right underneath his last. His lunch arrived before he ever got a response, and after that it was back to business until five o’clock.

Instead of cooking dinner Jake ate the leftovers he was supposed to have had for lunch. He washed the dish in the sink along with Luna’s bowl and cup and moved the laundry over from the washer to dryer before collapsing onto the couch to relax with a movie he wasn’t as interested in as his daughter was, but it was nice to cuddle with her after a long day.

Before he knew it he was blinking his eyes open and it was dark in the living room, the movie having long been over and they both fell asleep somewhere in the middle. “Come on princess, let's get you to bed” he scooped Luna up and carried her off to her bedroom, tucking her in and easing the door shut behind him.

It only took a few minutes to clear the dryer out, leaving Luna’s clothes folded to be put away later and carrying his laundry with him to his own bedroom. Jake tossed the clothes onto his bed when he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. Josh’s name and contact lit up his screen, not exactly who he had been hoping it was calling, but not at all unexpected at this time.

“Hey” he answered, putting the call on speaker so he could keep putting everything away as Josh spoke.

“I heard you guys got some snow today?”

“If you can call this snow” Jake replied as he folded pants and placed them in his drawers. “There’s barely an inch on the ground and everybody is freaking out”.

“Guess you couldn’t get away from it” Josh’s laugh was muffled like he was holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder.

“Are you at home?” Jake questioned.

“No, I'm shopping. Why?”

“No reason”. It was silly to be worried about Danny, but Jake couldn’t shake this feeling that he was missing something important. Josh picked up on his unease and paused what he was doing to ask him what was the matter. “It’s just I haven’t heard from Danny since leaving yesterday. I’m wondering if I should just call him”.

“Jake seriously?” Josh scoffed, “stop being so weird about it and just call him. I’m hanging up now”.

“But-” Jake tried to argue a point he knew would be moot but Josh really did end the call there. He debated just sending another text, but since the last two had gone unnoticed he hit the call button and let it ring. After just two attempts the call went straight to voicemail.

Jake frowned as he hung up without leaving a voicemail. Something was up, but he wasn’t sure what. They had left things on a good note, or so he had thought. Anxiety started to bubble in his stomach and irrational thoughts started to plague his mind. What could he have done to make Danny ignore him now? Surely he hadn’t decided after saying goodbye at the airport that this was all too much.

Trying not to jump to unlikely conclusions Jake plugged his phone in and left it on his nightstand as he did his nighttime routine in the bathroom and got ready for bed. Only about twenty minutes had passed, but he checked his phone again before laying down and still, nothing. With a huff he pulled the covers over his shoulder and turned the other way forcing his eyes closed even though he wasn’t tired after his accidental nap.

At that point there was no telling how much time had passed when he heard his phone buzz. For a second he tried to ignore it, focus on going to sleep so he wouldn’t be tired in the morning, but he couldn’t handle not checking who it was. Sitting up he unlocked the screen and Danny’s message sting pulled up.

Go look out your front window.

Jake’s heart thumped heavily in his chest as he read the message over a few times, thinking he might be seeing things then wondering exactly what this could mean when he determined it was real. Shuffling back onto his feet, Jake forwent his slippers and pad barefoot through his house, the small blue light of his cell phone screen illuminating his way to the front door.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for, and when he didn’t see anything at first he thought this was some cruel joke. But then his eyes focused in the dark and he saw it, on the ground carved into the snow was a heart.

Jake flicked the front porch light on and threw the door open, running out recklessly into the cold to try and catch whoever had been in his yard before they got away. He got all the way to the street before his feet started to ache and burn and he had to turn back empty handed, or so he thought until he saw the figure standing on his porch.

“I’m sorry, I was supposed to be here hours ago. My flight got delayed for the weather and I was too scared to tell you I was coming. Please don’t be upset with me-” Danny tried to explain when he saw Jake’s eyes grow round in shock.

Jake didn’t need any explanation though, he just needed proof he was really here. So he ran forward again, this time colliding with the body in front of him and smashing their lips together.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jake breathed, both hands cupping Danny’s face like he might disappear again if he didn’t have a hold on him.

“There’s something I need to tell you Jake. It couldn’t wait until I saw you again, so when I got home yesterday I spent the rest of the night putting things together to get here, and well Sam gave me your address”. Danny kept talking, nervously reciting bits and pieces of a monologue he’d spent too long at the airport trying to put together.

Even though he was freezing, Jake waited on baited breath to hear what Danny had come all this way to say. Nothing in the world could have moved him from that spot until he knew what was so important Danny needed to get on a flight to come see him in person.

“Jake” Danny began, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I love you, and it’s okay if you’re not ready to say it back. I just couldn’t let you go one more night alone without knowing that I am so desperately in love with you-”

Jake cut him off again with another swift kiss, this one lingering longer than the first.

“I love you too”.

“Really?” Danny sounded surprised, but happy nonetheless.

“Yes really! Danny, I love you so much” Jake repeated with even more emphasis and emotion before Danny captured his lips again.

“Can I come inside? You’re shivering” Danny asked, his numb fingers squeezing Jake’s sides.

“Of course you can. This is your home too”.

Danny’s smile faded at the implications of what Jake had said. “Can it really? Can this really be my home too?”

“It always has been Danny” Jake admit, moving to take his hand and guide him through the threshold. “When I was looking for a new home, I picked this one because I couldn’t help but picture all of us here, together”.

As helpless as it was, that was the truth. Even with his mind already having been made up to end things, when Jake found this house he was overwhelmed with the sense that this was where his family was supposed to be, and Danny was included in that dream.

“Well, sometime tomorrow you can show me around, but for tonight let’s go to bed”.

Jake couldn’t hide the smile that swept across his face even in the night as he continued back down the hallway with Danny still in tow. “Come on, our bedroom is this way”.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Jake never imagined his life would end up the definition of domestic bliss. The days were filled with boisterous laughter and happiness, the nights with whispered devotion and heartfelt promises. He loved his daughter, he loved his boyfriend, he loved his family. And life was never better.

Thanks for reading! @kultavalo @sanguinebats @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @lyndz2names @freyjalw

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van smut #jake kiszka #danny wagner #janny gvf

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karlachismylife · 2 days ago

Text

Five times Karlach and Soap didn’t celebrate Christmas together and one time they did

Through alternative universes and unfortunate fates. Brought to you by Modern Warfare OST I've been listening to instead of Christmas songs and this bloody perfect comission by @veeegaaas. I am deeply in love with their art style, the soft, often powdery or pastel colours and lines making it feel so touchable and comforting. My Christmas miracle this year is me being able to comission this piece, I gave them full artistic freedom and I am so happy I did. This is my heart here.

The way they're looking at each other makes me want to die a bit less.

CW: MCD (a lot), but happy ending, mentions and brief desciptions of self-sacrificing, coma, torture.

Frozen ground

Even the lower city of Baldur’s Gate feels like a shiny jewel when it’s covered in silver frost of approaching winter. Days closing in for the Solstice, early morning still feels like night, killed off and buried under the starless skies, thick smudge of fog and clouds painted over all celestial bodies. Karlach sniffles, cold air cutting into her nose like an icicle spell, and pats herself on her shoulders that are just starting to widen in a promise for her future massive build, once she’s all grown big and adult. Gortash noticed too, recently, told her he’s proud of her and is sure he made the right call picking her up from the dirt.

She sure as hell isn’t planning on proving him wrong, even if he sounds like a right prick when he gets all patronizing over her, as if they’re not friends.

SAS training is exhausting. There’s a part of Johnny that feels like turning into a mad rabid dog and falling on all fours to the ground to chew into the frozen soil, dirt mixed with ice crunching on bleeding teeth, last bits of sense escaping him due to sleep deprivation and bone-stinging cold. There are mere days before Christmas left, yet instead of warm lights and angels singing he’s only seen training ground’s cool floodlights and heard orders barked into the night, degrading words coming at the recruits in mist clouds from their CO’s mouth.

It's worth it, though. All worth it when he feels eyes blue as fine aged ice following his every move on the obstacle course – all worth being finally acknowledged as outstanding.

Her boots are cheap. Gortash promised her a new pair for the Winterday, probably already bought them and wrapped with a pretty bow on top – Karlach knows she’s already got a present for him, carefully chosen and clumsily packaged with a heartfelt postcard. The message inside is written by someone actually literate, but she dictated every word and put her signature underneath.

Who’s gonna tell him, thinks Karlach in the two seconds as she falls on the ice-covered cobbled floor, too slippery under her old worn boots with soles ground into nothingness by miles and miles of walking.

Who’s gonna tell Gortash there’s a present for him hidden under her pillow once she slips and doesn’t reach him in time to push them both out of the attacker’s way.

Who’s gonna tell him she tied a bow on it as red as the blood pouring from her cracked open skull.

Johnny doesn’t blame the poor lad who had probably frozen his fingers off long before they even reached this part of the drill. It’s cold, it’s so painfully cold that his own eyelashes crumble like hoarfrost on a wild pine tree that’s still waiting for someone to decorate it and put a blessed star on top, shining bright and pointing to the baby Jesus’s crib. It’s so cold that Johnny would’ve probably dropped the grenade himself if he wasn’t just so damn good with them.

Instead, Johnny drops himself, broad chest pushing against the threat and shielding others from a ticking death.

It’s so cold that his frozen, stale mind only has time to start regretting never finding a way to buy a Christmas gift for his Mam. As long as he remembers himself, he had always gotten her at least something.

His ID discs survive the explosion to hang at he very top of his Mam’s tree, right under the angel’s wings.

In the making

Soap has proved himself. Months of grueling training, years of hard focus on the task, unmatched persistence and constant pushing of his limits have lead up to this moment. Johnny passes the selection, having already earned his reputation, and even several seconds behind that Garrick prodigy can’t taint his triumph.

He’s the youngest candidate to pass it in British Army history, and this is his first mission under Captain Price’s command, a bright start of even brightest future. Johnny’s sun shines octilions of lumens, more than any light that came before him.

Like a hot-blooded dog freed from its leash, Soap pounces and returns with the cargo manifest countless lives depend on. Steel birds of prey tail him, deadly song of guns rattling behind his back, but he won’t let his grip on the prize slip.

A good hound doesn’t part its jaws clutched on the prey’s throat even in death.

Karlach’s heart is bleeding. Hell’s whips cut deep into flesh, drawing blood that boils immediately in the heat of war-soaked air of Avernus, flakes of sulfur ash clinging to the wounds to prolong her agony, but the pain Zariel’s minions can inflict cannot measure up to the one that’s tearing her up from inside.

Nothing hurts as bad as the shards of broken trust stuck in her chest, despair and betrayal spreading through her system like inflammation. Deep inside the young tiefling something precious is dead and rotting, poison and puss oozing out with blood and tears, throat too sore to cry out more. She’s akin to a wild animal butchered alive, dislocated shoulders screaming each time Karlach struggles against the restraints, mind set solely on freeing from this nightmare.

Zariel studies her acquisition and deems it ready. A red hot iron rod reflects in Karlach’s painfully wide open eyes.

It’s always several seconds. Precious moments dragging before the time strikes and he hears a beautiful melody of holy bells calling for the midnight mass. Old clocks ticking a few times while he waits for his turn to open the rustling packaging paper on a present. Four seconds setting him behind Gaz on the record list.

He’s only one second late to secure a grip on his Captain’s hand and avoid the destiny of a falling Christmas star.

Bering Strait is perfectly clear blue. Johnny’s eyes amalgamate with its cold, indifferent waves. Northern lights are his Christmas bells and Christmas lights now.

If John Price could, he would bring his body back home, but he can’t.

Pain has a way to make you confuse hot with cold, Karlach knows it well by now, countless burns in her throbbing skin feeling like there’s ice permanently etched into it. There should be a point when everything turns numb, that’s what they always said, but she’s been through so much and still feels a lot. Feels more than she would want to at this point.

Horrifyingly huge shears cutting into her sternum with a crunch of a festive caramel apple come as a relief.

Karlach’s heart aches even when it’s removed. She sees it, drugged on Devil’s spells and black opium of anguish, going still in a clawed hand, and then everything turns white.

Somewhere up there, on another plane of existence, it might be already winter. Fluffy blizzards throwing soft snowflakes into laughing children’s eyes, blinding them on a small hill they roll down from, clothes covered in snow and soaked, skin growing progressively numb from the cold – but not their hearts. Somewhere up there burning wheels roll down that same hill, celebrating Winter Solstice, and the druids keep children warm around huge campfires, pine and clove mingling with breathy smoke in the air.

There’s a fire burning in her chest, so tall than no one would be able to jump over it and cleanse for the new turn of the Year Wheel, and it still feels cold. Karlach’s fingers grow numb with no snowballs to throw.

She is nothing but a pile of ash, same as the Winterday campfire after a long night, after her body rejects Zariel’s engine.

We did it, soldier

If it wasn’t for the obvious matte colour showing under the timid sunrise of their victory, Karlach would believe that the ash carried by the breeze is a gently first snowfall, harbringer of upcoming winter and the festive joy it brings despite dark, unfit for survival nights. It’s been a long time since she’s seen snow, thin coats of crystal white on the rooftops and pavements seeming like a distant dream more than reality.

She does remember snow is supposed to feel cold, though. Nothing like the fever that makes the air around her quiver and ripple, mocking the uncalm sea waves bothered by fallen enemies and crashing into the dock that’s slowly starting to sizzle under her feet.

Engine’s finally cooked.

Karlach feels guilty for wanting just a little more time to pretend ash is, in fact, snow.

London is a big city, packed with money and even more – with a constant desire to earn more. Still, there’s something calming about seeing Christmas shopwindows in November. A very human hope to live long enough to see the day itself.

Task force 141 is there to ensure it happens for these people. Soap is there to protect Christmas from going out in a blazing hot fire of a terrorist attack.

The wire he’s supposed to cut is accordingly red; collect all red wires Johnny’s cut on duty – and you can weave a little Christmas garland, naked glint of copper insides mingling with the gold of ornaments and sparkly star topper. There is no cinematographic timer with a countdown, otherwise Soap could pretend the bomb is just about to douse them in confetti as the numbers hit all zeroes.

There are gunshots approaching from behind his back.

Friends are there to see Karlach’s radiant smile as she falls to her knees, succumbing to the flames. Shining brighter than the sun over this newly saved world, feeling warmer than a home’s hearth when the family lights a new fire for the new year and lets the old one burn out into a black spot, smouldering long into the new dawn.

Friends are there to watch Johnny spread Christmas red too early into the calendar, eyes full of wonder, devoid of anger and threat, staring up like a kid in a church. Trickle of blood frames his face like an expensive silk ribbon, only the best for the greatest gift people of London could receive so far in advance of the holiday season.

The city’s going to be alright.

Mind flaying

Karlach feels like her engine is still somewhere there, in her chest, now uncharacteristically narrow and devoid of all the muscle gain she worked for. Gone are the scars, testaments to her will to live; old steel grommets flayed off with the hot red skin; both horns fell off like that of a young deer before the upcoming winter.

But the fire that kept her blood hot and spicy like mulled wine is still dying its slow, drawn out, dishonourable death. Instead of a passionate flame, Karlach is just a fiery orange rim of a slightly warm coal now, breathing last breaths under the ashy skin of her new body.

That is, if she’s even still Karlach somewhere deep inside.

Johnny still looks like himself. His cheeks are undeniably chiseled now, jawline starvingly sharp instead of the adorable roundness everyone who knows him is used to; his mohawk is long gone, too hard to keep up in these circumstances; baby blue eyes stay closed and have lost memory of the happy crow’s feet that used to be permanently etched into their corners. But it’s still Johnny.

It's still his Mam’s wee lad lying there in the hospital bed, brain scans scarce with good news after a miracle – God himself standing between Johnny and the bullet as an early Christmas gift – allowed him to keep breathing even after getting shot straight to the temple.

Everyone in the family can see him silently withering away on that bed, but there aren’t many things as stubborn as Scottish hope.

Many things have already stopped worrying Karlach. Past passion, anger, fear, joy – seem less than distant memories now. She knows what they are, but her knowledge is as dry and flat as a library page, odorless ink burning up with no smoke, ashes so thin they barely leave a residue on fingers that smear them around.

When the campfire is already that weak, you just fall asleep, waiting for the brimming red somewhere in the centre to die down, and wake up in the morning to a completely cold pile of coal covered with untouched, senseless snow.

Karlach never notices when she slips away.

Johnny’s body responds less and less to things happening outside. At first his fingers twitched, stoking the fire of hope, at the sound of familiar voices. His heartrate responded to a loving touch, electricity in his system seeking a way to communicate through the barrier of his coma. The longer he stayed, the rarer became these answers.

They know he’s locking himself inside, disappointed in his inability to push through, like a stubborn kid throwing the towel after a particularly hard task doesn’t bend no matter the effort – Johnny’s never been one to give up.

His Mam knows he’s still fighting when they finally pull the plug.

Skullface

Karlach thinks of him, pulling the skull bandana further up her face in the cold November streets of London. She’s doing this for Johnny too – even if Soap would never approve, she’s doing it for the lad that’s been like a brother to her all the way, up until the day they split, deep ravine of incompatible views lodged between them by corrupt hands of those they both believed in. Molotov lights up nice and easy in her hand, liquid flame hitting a policeman kitted out into anti-demonstration gear.

It's for Johnny and all the other lads they send out to die not for regular people, but for the rich, powerful and utterly uninterested in what their profitable game of politics and war does to everyone else.

Johnny thinks of her, listening to the skull-faced voice in his ear in the cold November streets of Las Almas. He’s doing this for Karlach too – even though she went her own way, betraying what they both dreamed of and deemed righteous for the sake of her new worldview, the one that put them on the opposite sides without ever actually becoming enemies. C4 trap falls under the Shadows’ feet nice and easy, expensive PMC gear shattering into black shards with a splatter of a soldier’s blood.

It's for Karlach and all the other people whose lives will be ruined if Soap doesn’t get to the church and stop the goddamn missiles from starting something dangerously close to another world war.

Karlach knows they’re going to torture her, like they did to her other comrades, now rotting in prison, some with lesser time than others, health irreversibly damaged by the hands of so-called protectors. When they punch her till she barfs, she feels sorry for the brothers that were broken like this, ratting out her and her allies, signing empty protocols that would be filled with whatever the police needs. When they bag her horned head, she expects to be waterboarded like they did to others.

It's too late to cry out once she hears a dry chatter of a teaser. Karlach’s body only jolts twice before the pacemaker she earned in the military malfunctions and stops.

Johnny knows Ghost isn’t joking about what Narcos will do to them if they catch up faster than Shadows – videos or not, he’s seen the bodies first day he arrived here, and he doesn’t fancy looking like one of them when he leaves this rain-soaked place. Wouldn’t be the worst place to die, though, he thinks – at least he’ll come back on the Day of the Dead, sugar skull to match LT’s and all, right?

His one little selfish regret is that he doesn’t get a chance to see what’s under that skull before a lucky Shadow snipes Ghost from the top of the fence around the church. There is another bullet to guarantee they’ll stay in limbo that is the city of souls.

Together

Snow is falling in picture perfect, windless, snow globe manner, landing on their hair and immediately turning into little water droplets from the shared heat. Wherever eyes fall, there’s brilliant white, blue undertones of the tinies snowflakes neither of them is able to catch and hold.

Only makes more sense to hold each other instead.

Karlach’s tiger eyes burn brighter, reflecting warm yellow glow of the generously strung up lights on the giant Christmas tree they’re standing next to. At home, they unanimously agreed on a multi-coloured one, but the outside world is, as usually, much tamer than the artistic chaos that follows their shared life.

Was a hard enough task for Johnny to find a teddy bear extraordinary enough to suit Karlach – Clive has been getting lonely on the nightstand he’s permanently banished to in order to avoid getting kicked off the bed.

Karlach got him oil paint expensive enough to exchange for a wedding ring – her priorities as straight as their hair, both their outgrown hawks curling and shrinking the more they stand under the wet, warm weather snowfall.

They’re drinking each other as if it’s the only day of magical winter holidays they will ever get to spend together.

An invisible hand pushes them both at the same time, warm, slightly damp from the wet breath, lips locking in a sweet kiss, cinnamon and wine-soaked pear finding way to their tastebuds and forcing them to deepen the touch. Johnny breaks a second faster, strong arms wrapping tighter around her broad shoulders and waist and pulling Karlach in for a taste of festive desperation. An angelic chorus rings in his ears with the holy bells as he feels her toothy grin blooming into the kiss, giddy and unapologetically in love.

“We did it, soldier,” she whispers, opening her feline eyes just a little to admire the never-freezing waves of his gaze, shining against the sturdy dock of her flaming heart.

“Didnae even need tae steel mistletoe for that, aye,” Soap agrees, brushing his nose against Karlach’s. She’s trying to keep her cool so hard – her pulse is thrumming like crazy under his rough fingers splayed against her feverishly exposed back. “Let’s go home, lass. Ah’m fucking freezing mah arse even with ye in mah arms.”

“Wasn’t my idea to walk around in kilt when it’s bloody snowing, mate!”

“Aye, maybe ye’re gonnae say ye dinnae enjoy the view, too?”

People try to walk around them, rightfully scared to get pushed over on the slippery pavement as their fake argument gets heated and turns into hip nudging war. Loud laughter hangs in the air long after they pass, woven with mist into the twilight of upcoming wonder.

No matter the universe, no matter their fate, there is at least one world they’re together on Christmas.

#karlach x soap #soap cod #john soap mactavish #karlach #bg3 karlach #call of duty #cod #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #christmas fic #angst #cw mcd #tw mcd #mcd

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daaehq · 3 days ago

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Landoscar Christmas WIP - Just Like the Movies

This has been on my mind for months but I simply don't have enough time to develop this further which,, sucks. Anyway! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays for everyone!

Please let me know **kindly** if there is any spelling mistakes. I'm pretty stressed out and I don't think I can handle harsh criticism today, or ever. (lol)

Landoscar / 2.6k words / Inspired by Hallmark moves + my old post from my old acc / not beta read / Original!male!character / TW: toxic behaviour(Making someone cut off their friends), cheating(Not between the main characters)

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Lando yells over the phone. He is inside the comfort of his office but everyone outside seems to notice his rage. He could most definitely murder someone right now. He hasn’t felt this angry in a minute and it must show. Everything at work went incredibly smoothly for the holiday season so obviously something had to go wrong.

“I’m sorry! It’s just- I had something come up last minute.”

“Mark, we are going on this vacation because you insisted. I was fine- no, I wanted to stay in London for Christmas. I practically broke my parents’ hearts because you wanted to go to a fucking tree farm.”

“Come on, you know how important my job is-”

“Are you implying that our promise means less than taking a client?” Lando knows that argument is flawed and unfair but screw Mark and his workaholic tendencies. This isn’t the first time he broke off a commitment to go and mingle with a client, both professionally and literally.

People like to paint Lando as this dumbass who has zero understanding of his surroundings but he is a silent observer. Although the fact that Mark screws any client that blinks in his direction is so obvious to the point a person living four hundred and eighty-one miles away can probably detect it. Lando kept his mouth shut from October, mainly because of the fact he hates spending Christmas alone. Back in university, he would spend it with Oscar and before Mark, he would spend it with George and Alex but ever since they got together, it’s been awkward being their third wheel at most events. It was definitely a relief when he got himself a boyfriend to spend Christmas with.

“Lando, that’s not fair!”

“You ditching our planned date for the fourteenth time this year is not fair.”

“Please? I’ll make it there as soon as I can. Just, this is really important to me. I told you all about this case! I have to help Barbara,” Mark pleads and it just makes Lando scoff. So this new girl is called Barbara. He genuinely does not give a shit.

“You know what? Fine! Please, spend your Christmas with whoever this Barbara is. As a matter of fact, please don’t even fucking come, I would love to spend some time alone at the fucking farm where I made the reservations. I don’t see a problem in taking your name off the list.”

“Lando please, can you calm down for a second?”

Mark saying that was more than enough to send Lando off the edges. Who the fuck does he think he is, telling him to ‘calm down’?

“I’m hanging up. Unlike you, I have somewhere to go this holiday season.”

“Please, can we just talk like adults here?”

Lando stays silent on the line, fighting back the tears that form around his eyes. He knows that Mark is a serial cheater who uses him to spend time and disappears when he doesn’t need him. It still doesn't change the fact that he really, really did like Mark and was most definitely in love with him for a time. Now, he doesn’t know.

“We’re done, Mark. This can’t go on like this any longer.”

“Lando, please. You’re being irrational again.”

“Good! Either I’m calm and insane or irrational and sane. I choose the latter.”

“Lando, just listen to me!”

“No, you listen to me! We are done!”

“Lando, I swear to-”

Lando hangs up the call without hearing the end of Mark’s sentence. He can feel tears drop down his face and it hurts just a little.

When George walks into his office, he is basically a ball on the floor, his arms around his legs and just waddling about.

“Oh my god Lando! Get off the floor!”

“Fuck you, George.”

George rolls his huge eyes and grabs Lando from the back and puts him back on his feet. He sniffs his sorrow and stares at George.

“What happened? Everyone on the floor heard you scream over the phone, Is it the idiot lawyer again? I told you to break up with-”

“He’s not joining me for the Christmas trip.”

“What?” Alex yells from outside his door. Now everyone in the office is actively looking at Alex who just screamed, George who has his arms around Lando, and Lando with puffy eyes and sniffling nose.

“Sorry, what do you mean he isn’t joining you? I thought it was his idea to go on that trip,” Alex asks, quieter than before.

“He has a client to look out for this Christmas, so I called it off. We’re done,” Lando says, feeling his voice quiver just a little.

“Holy shit.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Yup.”

“What are you going to do? You know you should just cancel the thing and spend Christmas with your family instead.”

“They’re going on a trip together to Australia this year. I told them to book without me because, well” Lando gestures to the air just to emphasize he had someone to go on a holiday trip with just a few moments ago.

“You can spend it with me and George! You know, we’re having a double date, Logan with me and Lewis with George. We’re thinking about going to-”

“Alex! Shut the fuck up,” George says, cutting Alex’s sentence. Alex’s face goes just a little pale when he realizes what he has done. Lando just glares at him with murderous urges inside of him.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, patting Lando on the shoulders. Lando flips him off, also quietly.

“I’m just gonna go alone. Spend time with the trees, wallow about the fact that my ex and I broke up literally days before Christmas because he was a workaholic who would rather spend time working than with me,” Lando says. He sounds much more sarcastic than he anticipated. He’s glad that it at least hides the hurt in his voice.

“Seriously?”

“Yup! Fuck Mark. I was gonna dump him anyway.”

“This is the thirteenth time this year that you’ve said that.”

“And I’ve done it this time!”

George sighs and shakes his head in disbelief. Lando can’t defend himself any further- because it’s true. He has said he would break it off with Mark a thousand times throughout their entire relationship. He couldn't help that he was indecisive about it. Now it’s all done and he is finally free from all of this.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The car ride to the farm was calmer than he had anticipated. He and Mark would always start a fight during road trips- about the smallest things there could possibly be. From each other's clothing choices to the food they chose to eat, they kept fighting and fighting until they just both stopped talking. It was nice to have some peace and quiet with his Christmas playlist during a long road trip to some random location he’d never heard of before.

When he arrives at his destination, it’s just a small, rural town with almost nothing. No tall buildings, no people running into each other with coffees in their hands, it’s rather empty. Usually, Lando would hate being alone but strangely enough, he doesn’t mind it.

He waits for someone to pick him up like they said they would in their pamphlet. The farm is far away enough to not have a proper road going in. Lando hates walking but the air feels different. Freezing cold, but refreshing as well. Something is rather magical about this place and he can’t exactly pinpoint what.

“Lando?”

A not-so-American accent calls for his name from his back. He turns to find a guy a bit taller than him. Nice, soft-looking brown hair seems to fall perfectly around his face and his eyes look so comforting he thinks he can just jump right into it and never come out ever again. He is dressed a little too light for the weather, contrary to Lando who could definitely be considered overdressed despite the freezing weather.

The guy is so familiar but he doesn’t ring a bell immediately. He feels like he’s fallen for those eyes before. Where has he seen him before? Maybe around London? Maybe during the time he spent in New York a few years ago? Maybe during his time in Los Angeles. Maybe in school?

Oh most definitely in school. How could he ever forget that face of his?

“Oscar? Piastri?”

“It’s been a minute,” Oscar says in his usual flat, dull voice.

He and Oscar graduated from university together. They weren’t exactly in the same department, with Lando studying Marketing and Oscar engineering, but alas they were close. There were some sparks here and there during their time as friends but they never went further than their hands brushing from time to time.

Oscar was Lando’s first real love. It wasn’t anything like back in school- children mistaking horny interest for love. He enjoyed Oscar’s company, his laugh, his voice, his comforting arms, his dry sense of humour and just everything about him. He was more than devastated when he had learned that Oscar moved back to Melbourne after his study concluded, just days before he had set his mind to confess his feelings.

Oscar opens his arms for a hug and Lando invites himself back into his arms for the first time in years. His warmth hasn’t changed and neither did the comfort that comes from his embrace. Oscar always felt like home to him, and that seemed to have stayed after all these years. Oscar gives Lando a tight squeeze and Lando can’t lie, he loves it just as much as he did back when they were in university together.

“It’s good to see you again, Pastry.”

“Same goes for you, Landers.”

After they pulled away from their hug, they started walking towards the farm.

“So, you're a Christmas tree farmer now?”

“Not me, Mark is. He’s my mentor from back in Australia. He made a move to come here sort of recently,” Oscar says. The name Mark, despite not being his Mark, stings just a little. He can’t help but show it on his face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No, it’s just- my ex, his name was also Mark.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry to hear that. Was the breakup recent?”

“It’s not been two full days, so I guess? I was supposed to come here with him but we broke up right before we were supposed to leave.”

Thinking about it, Lando is pretty glad he called it off with Mark. It would’ve been pretty fucking awkward spending the holidays with his boyfriend and his ex-fling. He would much rather spend Christmas with Oscar and his mentor than fight all day and night with Mark.

“Oh. Again, I’m sorry to hear that.” An awkward silence falls between them. It gets under Lando’s skin. He quickly breaks the silence.

“Welp! Enough about me. When did you come back to the UK? Are you staying here just for the winter or?”

“I actually moved to London permanently, last September? It’s been a few months.”

Oh!

That is completely fine. Sure, obviously Oscar could have called Lando or texted him to let him know but nope, Oscar Piastri obviously kept that all to himself. He knows it is no longer his business but still, it would’ve been nice to get a phone call from his old friend, emphasis on friend.

“You could’ve called, you know. I would’ve loved to chat”

“I- actually, I did,” Oscar chuckles. Lando does not find that sentence funny because what the fuck?

“What? What- what do you mean you called? I never heard from you since- since you left!”

“Well, I called you the moment I landed in London, ‘cause you know, I wanted to catch up. A guy picked up the phone and told me that the number didn’t belong to you anymore. I didn’t have any of your socials so I couldn’t exactly reach you.”

The whole story sounds just a little too weird because Lando never changed his phone number after Oscar left. There is no way in hell that Oscar got the wrong number because they used to call each other all the time. So either Oscar is an idiot who hadn’t put down his number correctly on his phone, which is unlikely, or, perhaps someone had lied to Oscar.

Mark.

Fucking Mark.

Fucking Mark!

One of Mark’s toxic traits was chasing away Lando’s friends. It started with him banning Lando from going to his favourite cafe because the waiter was getting too friendly. When Lando realised the mess of a relationship he had gotten himself into, he barely had anyone to text after a day at work. Mark even tried to make Lando cut off George and Alex but it did not go very well. Mainly because the hatred was mutual and his two friends annoyed the living shit out of Mark until he backed off completely.

At first, Lando thought he was just dating someone protective and caring. He never realised that his over-protective boyfriend was overflowing his own little need with any girl(or guy) who looked in his direction. Setting up a double standard like it was an Olympic sport. The gold medal for being a manipulative little shit goes to… Mark!

Now Lando is absolutely glad that he had called it all off.

“That was probably my ex. He used to do that. God, that fucking arsehole! Why did I even date him for three years?”

“You dated him for three years?”

“Don’t call me out on it. I am also regretting it.”

“Well, at least I won't be in front of my mentor Mark. We're here!”

The farm is huge to the point where the word huge could be an understatement. Endless rows of trees are aligned behind a cosy-looking cottage. It’s what you would see in those hallmark movies, where the main character inherits a rundown farm and has to somehow save the damn thing to rescue Christmas.

“Wow,” Lando mutters quietly. Oscar definitely heard it, considering his adorable little laugh.

“Yup! The place is huge. It’s also pretty shit to clean.”

Oscar reaches for the doorknob and opens the door to the inside. There are so many things about this place that make his mouth drop. From the gigantic tree in the middle of the living room where you can see the entirety of the farm to the open kitchen that is neatly organized.

“Come on, I’ll give you a house tour in a bit. Let’s head to your room,” Oscar says, tugging on Lando’s arm a little. Lando follows Oscar upstairs where all the guest bedrooms seem to be located.

Oscar opens the door to a room at the end of the corridor. Just like everything on this farm, the room is also spacious. It’s nicely decorated with a couple of Christmas-related decors and a bookshelf filled with ancient-looking books. The bedding is red and green, decorated just for the holiday season. Lando wonders if he is dreaming just a little because the room is perfect.

“You did book a room with king sized bed but if you prefer a smaller one we can arrange-”

“No, this is perfect. What the- this room is incredible.” Lando can’t hide the awe in his tone. The house feels like something out of a movie and he wants to live in this room forever, just staring at the trees with Osc- Lando stops himself from thinking there.

“I decorated it myself,” Oscar says, blushing just a little bit. He’s always found that incredibly endearing about the younger one. It makes his heart beat just a bit louder than before and now he feels flushed as well.

“Oscar! Are the guests here?” A man yells from down the stairs. His accent is similar to Oscar’s.

“I’m showing him his room!” Oscar yells back.

“You ready to head downstairs?”

“I was born ready, Osc.”

#landoscar #op81 #ln4 #814 #oscar piastri #lando norris #f1 rpf #lando norris x oscar piastri

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shyamanuensis · 14 hours ago

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Boy at the Rock Show - 3

“Just text him that you’re down to fuck…”

Your eyes both widen and then narrow at Poppy’s bluntness with a hint of both confusion and disgust in them as you deleted, again – for the 43rd time the text message you were going to send Sebastian. Not that you were counting. It was three days after he’d given you his number and you hadn’t wanted to see too keen or straight forward with your interest in him.

Flicking your phone screen shut, you tossed it onto the middle of your bed and sighed, falling back against the mattress lazily. Texts with boys had never really been your strong point – hell texts in general you’d often struggled with. Rubbing your hands over your eyes and letting out a frustrated groan, it was the swishing sound of a text being sent that pulled you out of your temporary state of frustration and straight into one of panic. Sitting up, you noticed Poppy smirking down at your phone with a sheer expression of chaos plastered to her face.

“What did you do?” “Your dirty work for you. Relax, I know how hard it is for you to text guys and make the first move so I sent one to Sebastian for you.” “And what did it say” “DTF? … duh!”

The bed could have turned into a savage beast and swallowed you whole and you’d be happy right now for that to be the ending of your existence. Mind racing at a hundred million miles an hour, your thoughts ranged from ‘why would she send that?’ to ‘ugh, he’s going to think I’m only after one thing’ as the phone buzzed in Poppy’s hands your familiar three beep text notification that you weren’t expecting to hear at all, let alone so quickly. Poppy glanced over with a sly smirk as she flicked the screen back up to read the reply she just knew would be from him.

“He says – sure.” “WHAT?”

It wasn’t a few seconds later that the phone began to ring. Reaching out for it, you fell onto the bed; losing your stability which gave Poppy the perfect excuse to answer it with an undeniable smirk of mischief growing bigger and bigger across her lips.

“Hello?” “Mhmm….” “No she’s here – she’s sitting right in front of me.” “Free tonight? Yeah I think so.” “Uh-huh.” “Nine at Crowded Spaces – got it.” “No, no – we’ll see you there.”

What the hell had Poppy just agreed to?

“Would you let me answer my own phone next time?” the groan which sounded from you showed a clear frustration. “What, and have you act like a stuttering mess? Please – I’m your wing girl – just trust me.” “Ughh…” “Tsk, tsk… girl, you mean more like aaaaahhhhh!”, Poppy teases with a high pitched moan and giggle. “Your prince charming has invited us to band practice tonight at 9. Some place called Crowded Spaces just of Upper Hogsmeade. Room 5.”

It's a little after a quarter past 9 when the two of you arrive at the practice venue, shuffling down the corridor stepping over boxes and cases of musical equipment which have been left laying around. Room 5 is a testament to the venue’s name – crowded with girls piled in against the walls and on the floor listening intently to the band playing, or more so just messing about. Slipping in to a quiet space; it doesn’t take long for Sebastian to notice your presence and hint for you to come over with a wink and sultry beckon gesture using his drumsticks. The look in his eyes could make an angel melt if she wasn’t aware of his true intentions. Encouraged by Poppy who’d seen the interaction, you shuffle across the room, tripping over the microphone lead that Garreth was pulling toward him and fall short of a crash symbol, straight into Sebastian’s lap.

“I knew you were keen girl, but damn...”

His voice is low and teasing as you pull yourself back up from the awkwardness of being almost between his legs and Sebastian tugs you into his lap, seemingly unphased. Just as you think he’s about to wrap his arms around you; a teasing little drum roll snaps against the snare and you giggle only for a second before a lively double stamp of the kick pedal throws you forward from his lap in a startle. Just as you’re about to hit the drum kit Sebastian tugs you back again with an arm around your waist; this time, hard enough for your back to hit his chest.

“…couldn’t help myself.”

The whisper into your ear burns across both your hair and sensitive skin, clearly only meant for you however the eyes which glare your way from the other ladies in the room make it obvious everyone else both noticed and has heard.

“A regular fucking Yoko Ono…”

The comment is uttered by Imelda who rolls her eyes as if it’s a fulltime job and adjusts the tension on one of her bass strings; the scowl across her face not leaving.

“I should move and let you practice..”, you manage to whimper only slightly, voice caught in your throat with a choke as Sebastian shakes his head in impish protest into your hair. You can feel his heartbeat against your back and wonder if he’s noticed just how fast he’s gotten yours to be.

“Stay a minute – she’ll get over it.”

Oh, what you wouldn’t give right now for a little bit of privacy and maybe a cigarette. Listening to Ominis and Garreth chat about a new lyric they’d like to throw into a song, you both hear and feel Sebastian humming into you as his wrists tap along to the beat slowly.

“Glad you decided to make it”, Sebastian whispered quietly – conversation now definitely just between the two of you. “Yeah, glad we came.” “Mhmm – maybe save that for tonight.” “What?”

Hook, line and sinker you were lured into his innuendo with a hot flush cursing both your mind and through your veins before a firm but soft voice called for Sebastian from the practice room door. A pretty petite blonde wearing one of the bands shirts as a dress, heavily tattooed and the same piercings as Sebastian half stood in the way to call for him.

“Sebby – you got a minute?”

With hands at your hips, Sebastian nearly picked you up off his lap and handed you his drumsticks.

“Yeah..”

Any chance of further contact between the two of you broken momentarily. You were sure it was nothing until Ominis smirked and Imelda commented, “Ohh, he’s in for it now – make sure she doesn’t bite too hard ‘Sebby’.”

Garreth noticing your immediate demeanour change – tried to lighten the mood.

“Hey – let’s head outside for a smoke. What do you say?”

Your eyes flickered between the two boys; one now in front of you and the one you were lusting over, quickly out of sight.

“Ugh – sure…”

A smoke right – what harm could that be?

...thank you to @eva-fitzgerald for ensuring I kept my sanity while writing this. Here's the next instalment of drummer!sebastian. ugh.. i need a moment to comprehend this. Oh @bookie-bookdust because i have to keep my promise about the lap-sit of which there's is plennntttyyy more to come.

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #imelda reyes #au!hogwarts legacy #i think i've found my crack #alternative hogwarts kids #fml drummer seb might be the death of me

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mademoiselle-cookie · 1 year ago

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I hate to defend Peter B because he's far from my favorite character in this movie, and he's even questionable in this scene, but not for that.

Peter didn't trap Miles. Not willingly at least. He wanted to talk to Miles but Lyla managed to track them down (bc we know the Society tracks and monitors its members even without authorization). On the other hand, I don't know if Miguel knows that Peter was not at all trying to help them capture Miles.

It's obvious for 2 reasons: narration and logic.

Narration

First, the end.

If Peter wanted to trap Miles, willingly and clearly betraying him, then there's no reason the authors want him to be part of Gwen's group. Or for Gwen to want him in her group. It's a thing if he didn't betray him consciously - but just seek to help him and do the right thing (i.e. not destroying a universe) - but it's another to voluntarily choose to stab him in the back.

No one will give a "redemption" this quick to someone who behave like that. On the other hand, if he must above all question his philosophy rather than his actions, in these cases, it can pass (I still think it's a bit crappy, but that's not the point).

Secondly, if it was the authors' intentions, they would just have to show it. They wouldn't have shown Peter being shocked that Lyla announced that she had found them. His face would have been resigned, just like Jess when Gwen gets fired, because she knows what she's doing by refusing to intervene, she is not surprised.

Besides, Peter wouldn't have promised that he didn't know it was going to happen. Peter is not a liar, and he has no reason to do that when Miles is cornered. And he wouldn't panic. He's the man who's still able to kick ass after (during?) a big depression. He has no reason to act like that if he knows what's going on.

thirdly, it would have completely ruined the sincerity of the moment if it was only a manipulation to trap Miles. You can tell me that it's still a waste because they are interrupted and Miles feels betrayed. But no. Even knowing what's going on, seeing that scene again and its sincerity touch, and having it end like this is still tragic. On the other hand, if it is only a low manipulation, all the emotion disappears, and the spectator is just bitter during the whole scene. And that's clearly not the point. (even if the revelations that Miles is responsible for the birth of Mayday does not touch me, this scene remains strong after watching it many times)

Also, he didn't try to stop Miles when he's "discovered". He tried to talk to him. The one who stop the other? It's Miles. Someone with as much experience as Peter B could have outpaced a newbie like him, but he does absolutely nothing while his target is escaping.

Another small point but it's worth what it's worth. Peter is portrayed as a good father in the film. He wouldn't use his daughter as bait. He brings his daughter on a mission, yes, but it's used as a joke, it's not supposed to be taken seriously (even his wife doesn't care). He's in the same movie as a woman who fights while being heavily pregnant, which doesn't raise any concerns about the health of the baby either.

Logic

Why does Lyla audibly warn Peter? Plot reasons. There's no real logical reason behind Lyla's action, it just shifted the plot, to hell with logic. Miles need to think Peter betrayed him. Because really, if you tried to sneakily trap someone, do you think warning your target that he is cornered is a good method? In advance to give him time to escape?

And why bother to do that? Miles was hunted by the entire Spider-Society. Did he need to be trapped like that to be captured? Miles is a kid with a year of experience against hundreds of Spider-heroes, some with decades of experience. There is no need to corner Miles for the Society to get to him because the Society was already doing that.

When Peter makes the decision to use another method, it's not because he thinks that Miles will miraculously beat all this 'losers' (even though he doesn't yet know he has a plan, Miles seems to be content with flee). It's because he wants to convince him to not save his father. If Miles is no longer on the run, there's no more pursuit, and no need for violence. Period. He doesn't want Miles to get hurt and he think the Society is in the right. He had already managed to make him listen to reason before, so he was trying again.

Peter protested against Miles being locked up before the hunt, and he was glad he managed to trick Miguel on the train. It's not the bahavior of someone who really, really want him to be captured, to the point of betrayal.

Also, he never tried to immobilize Miles. Yes, he tried to give him his baby. But it's not a method to immobilize someone, at most to occupy his hands, so long as he keeps the baby. But if you want to immobilize someone, you IMMOBILIZE them. You tie it up with webs for example. LIKE IN THE FIRST MOVIE.

But no. Even though Peter nags him to take Mayday, Miles moves. He is free to move and he is looking for a solution to escape. Peter is not stupid, he sees that. He didn't corner Miles in the oven (?), Miles got in there on his own and the first thing he does is try to open the grill. Grill that he will indeed use to escape. I'm not going to be told that with the sources of information that Miguel has at his disposal, Peter couldn't have found a better place to corner Miles. Or that he doesn't have enough experience to drag him there.

Another small point, we agree that spider-senses react to danger. That's why Miles manages to run away from all his attackers. So if Peter wanted to cause him harm and Miles is using his spider-senses to the fullest, how did he manage to capture him and take him somewhere else? Because trapping him IS a danger for Miles. So why is it not reacting at all?

Y'ALL I'LL URGENTLY NEED YOUR IMPUT RIGHT NOW

BECAUSE LIKE AM I READING THIS WRONG

So in this scene:

Peter is consistently and very pressingly trying to get Miles to hold MayDay, before having a heart to heart with him.

When suddenly his watch says "We got your location, Peter."

DID YOU INTERPRET THIS AS INTENTIONAL OR NOT?

Since my first viewing, I believed it was fully intended and that Peter had alerted them that he was with Miles. I always assumed Peter was ratting him out.

But so far two people have told me they see this is accidental. Which shocked me. Do you think it's intentional, or a complete accident?

Here's why I think it was completely intentional:

So of course we begin the scene with Peter being VERY insistent that Miles hold his baby. Like.. uncomfortably consistent. He's deadset on getting Miles to hold Mayday. Insisting that it'll make everything okay.

They end up in a small enclosed area.

So they're in this enclosed space, and now Miles chances of escape drop dramatically. Going down seriously is the only way he can leave - and he can only do that if both his hands are free.

Peter knows for a fact if Miles is holding MayDay - 1) he can't swing and 2) he would never kidnap her.

I always interperted Peter's insistence not as a weird fatherly thing, but a ploy to get Miles to stay in one place.

In a space like this, Miles can't wallcrawl with a baby in his hands, and there's no place to swing, besides - Miles would never take her from her father anyway.

Plus there's the Lyla thing. Let me go on.

Peter gets down beside him, putting a hand on Miles trying to get his eye contact. And then MayDay attaches herself to Miles' arm. Peter is really close here - like MayDay doesn't have to lean much to cling on to him.

By the time he says 'And she happened-' MayDay is already on him, Miles just hadn't noticed yet. Peter isn't holding her anymore.

In one shot, MayDay is on the other side of Peter, then suddenly she's on Miles' arm. I assumed this was Peter putting MayDay on Miles, are at least getting her close enough to cling to him.

To me it looks like he literally passed her from one arm to the next in order to get her close to Miles.

Now Miles hands are full. He can't go anywhere. Now all Peter has to do is laugh and joke until they can get to him. Peter even judges the way Miles holds her - I assumed this was him trying to coax him into really holding her, calming down and not focus on leaving.

The better Miles grip on her is, the less likely he is too take off.

Right after this Lyla announces herself - saying "We got your location, Peter."

Now, I always took this as confirmation that yes, he set up Miles.

Why else would Lyla speak out loud to him if he's hadn't spoken to her first. If Peter didn't KNOW he was being tracked, why would Lyla just announce it to him suddenly? Her natural protocol probably would've been to just tell Miguel.

So I always saw Lyla speaking out loud like this as the sign that Peter spoke to HER first, letting her know to track his location, and believing it was safe to respond out loud, Lyla replied back.

Instead of Lyla just talking suddenly and giving Peter away.

As soon as this happened, I immediately understood why he was SO insistent on Miles holding MayDay and holding her well, and calming down.

Because he was intentionally trying to corner/ground him in time for The Society to get to him.

How else would they even know that he was with Miles - and to track HIM and not Gwen - unless he directly told them 'I have Miles with me.' someway?

From Day 1 I saw this as intentional, but I've seen multiple people now who believe it was an accident.

What do you believe? Cause I don't think Lyla would just speak out loud unprompted in a situation like this. To me I always saw it as her responding to Peter, AFTER Peter ratted Miles out.

I mean, look at Miles' face. He LOOKS betrayed. He LOOKS HURT.

Peter says he didn't know, but Miles doesn't believe that. Neither do I.

He says "I didn't know, I promise." But I was like-

Yeah sure, you didn't know the watch you've had for months and the sophisticated ass AI on it can track your location, sure bro.

Sure, Lyla just figured out on her own that you were with Miles and then decided to rat you out. Sure. Her voice recognition picked up Miles being there and she still spoke out loud uh-huh. STFU.

You not making no sense bro CAP. STOP THE CAP!!!!

Like...... Seriously, how else would Lyla know to ping Peter's location, other than him telling her. It's just him and MILES!!!!!

I don't know. That how I always read the situation.

And Peter using his baby to manipulate and corner Miles like that - It DO NOT sit right with me. It don't matter of face I'm sick to MY STOMACHHHHHHH!!!

But maybe I'M the one bugging. If I'm reading this wrong but who knows bit if he deadass ratted him out.....guitar. guitar. Hobie, the guitar!!!!

But how do you read this scene, you think he did it on purpose or nah?

Cause Lyla announcing herself like that is mad random unless he spoke to her first. She could have found him and told Miguel, but I feel like she told Peter too because he actively requested he be tracked.

Hm. HMMMM.

Thoughts, ya'll? We think he did it or nah? Let's hear what the audience thinks fr fr

#peter b parker #atsv #There are so many reasons to criticize Peter #why invent any?#a narration that does its job well is understandable directly #and this scene is not framed as 'Peter is trying to trap Miles'#It's 'Peter is trying to talk to Miles'#'And Miles is right to not listen to him'#Bc that's how the Spider-Society reacts to a reasonable way to stop him:#they don't try to be reasonable #And it's PETER who draws a lesson from this discussion

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